Rhapsodie satanique

A film that, let's just say it, has not aged well. The plot, however faustian it may be, barely deserves to be called a plot. And you can hardly understand it, were it not for some title cards: I mean, there is no visual efficacity whatsoever. Some title-cards only, just a few ones: the others are quite impressionistic evocations of vague states of mind, sometimes merely a series of sigle words separated by full stops, and expressed in a sort of antiquated Italian language that not only nobody speaks today (believe me, I happen to be Italian), but into which not even the best literates of 1917 would have dared to write. (Of course nobody expects the best literates to have partecipated in the movie).

The worst weakness of the film, however, is the acting. In you are interested in the topic, by the by, I recommend you watch the movie until the end, if you can stand its about 45 minutes of growing bore. Well: never, not in a single moment we can find a "natural" body expression or gesture. (Though I'm pretty sure the filmmakers expressily didn't want to have any; I think that was a facet in the time's esthetics). But, for today's audiences, it's really hard to follow and appreciate a never-ending plethora of sterotyped gestures, with the protagonist Lyda Borelli flinging hes arms around like crazy from beginning to end, whether she is happy or sad, or Mephisto lurking from the bottom of the shot, in his heavy clownish make-up, to insinuate deadly temptation.

Old lady Lyda Borelli strikes a deal with Mephistopheles -- played by Ugo Bazzini -- to restore her youth. She's supposed to destroy a symbol of love, but cheats him. Now young and lovely, she fascinates brothers Andrea Habay and Giovanni Cini. One kills himself over his unrequited passion, while the other seeks solitude riding his horse in the mountains. But Signorina Borelli comes o realize that she may have made a mistake in not forsaking love.

It's a variation on Faust from the woman's angle, with Signorina Borelli acting up a storm in the broad manner than Italian audiences still adored in their movie divas. I find it a bit too broad.

The print I looked at had been restored with many of the original tints left intact. They're quite lovely, except for a bit in which the image has been almost fully destroyed. The score which composer Pietro Mascagni wrote for the premiere -- and took a couple of years to write, causing the movie's release to be delayed two years -- is quite grand, recalling to me in part Richard Rodger's score for Carousel, while in other places it suggests Sir Arthur Sullivan's serious music.

This is an extraordinary variation of the Faust myth, with great lighting and beautiful compositions by cinematographer Giorgi Ricci, in which the influences of Italian aestheticism and German expressionism are harmoniously integrated, to offer a lavish melodrama, a beautiful example of the Italian cinema of great divas.

«Rapsodia satanica» is a hand-painted, tinted black and white silent film, restored in 2007 and performed by diva Lyda Borelli, known as "La divina Borelli." It tells the story of an old countess who makes a pact with Mephistopheles, recovers her youth, and mocks the love of two brothers who court her.

The story receives a fantasy approach and is kept under control by director Nino Oxilia, who finished the film, went to fight in World War I and died on the battlefield. It was also the only film for which maestro Pietro Mascagni composed an excellent musical score.

Of its 55 minutes only 45 have remained, but the film has coherence and is a fascinating opportunity to see the greatest of Italian divas in the leading role, who became a real contessa in 1918, when she retired to marry a member of Italian royalty and ended her film career. Highly recommended.

This gender-switched version of "Faust" has an elderly countess selling her soul to the devil in order to regain her youth and beauty. The only condition is that she cannot fall in love. Once back in her splendor, however, she behaves recklessly and does indeed violate that contract, to the ruination of more than one man, and the inevitable fate for herself.

Lyda Borelli was briefly a leading Italian screen actress-I'm not sure why her movie career ended so soon after this film-and she has an interesting presence here. But often the elegantly staged film seems over-indebted to the Theda Bara school in both her theatrics and her character look, even if the protagonist is ultimately more a tragic figure than pure "vamp." It's a handsome movie that benefits from attractive settings both indoors and out, some lyrical climactic imagery, as well as lovely color tinting on the print I saw.

There are two things you can say in favor of this film: It has a cool title - and it is mercifully short. The story is as trite as can be. Prologue: Some old countess makes a deal with the devil: She receives everlasting youth if she abjures love. Part one: Endless boring "parties" - interminably we have to watch dancing and flower throwing youths. Single small bit of plot: One of a pair of brothers falls in love with her and shoots himself. Part two: Now we have to endure her remorse in close ups and mid shots and in this gown and in that gown and some more senseless flower throwing until the predictable end releases us from this boredom.

The only somewhat interesting thing is the use of various coloring techniques: You get some green dresses, yellow butterflies in close-up and a red colored Mephisto. But the acting is mediocre and the direction is terrible: There is some unintended comedy now and then when Mephisto pops up like in a Punch and Judy show. But it's not hilariously bad enough to justify the waste of 45 minutes by watching this film.