Bellissima

In "Bellissima" (1951) an overambitious mother drags her 6 year old daughter to a talent show. The theme of "Bellissima" has something in common with "Little miss sunshine" (2006, Dayton & Faris). In both cases the daughter has no chance against the barby dolls that are her opponents. In "Little miss sunshine" the initiative is however by the daughter herself (although her parents ought to do more to protect her). In "Bellissima" the initiative lays cleary by the overambitious mother.

"Bellissima" was the end of the neo realist period in the carrier of Luchino Visconti, after films such as "Ossessione" (1943) and "La terra trema" (1948). The film is situated in a workers environment but live in this environment is no longer as bad as it was in the heydays of neorealism. In fact live in the showbusiness of Cinecitta is much more ruthless.

The lead actress Anna Magnani is still a true representative of the neo realist age. Think about her role in "Roma, citta aperta" (1945, Roberto Rossellini). In "Bellissima" she is brilliant as the mother who is cheated by the Cinecitta employees but who is also cheating herself against other mothers and their "bellissima's".

The film tells a rather simple story but makes maximum use of facial expressions and close ups, especially those of Magnani herself and Tina Apicella (playing her daughter Maria). Especially towards the end of the film the close ups are tellng us more than a thousend words.

It was as if I had taken a time machine back to 1951. Sitting at the open theater of Tiberina Island in Rome, Anna Magnani's voice bounced off the ancient angles of this stunning roman spot. "Bellissima" is a timeless masterpiece. A rarity in Visconti's oeuvre. He puts all of his uncanny attention to detail to the service of Magnani's bombastic, tender, funny, extraordinary performance. Visconti knew how to bring the best in his actors. Even Maria Callas who, under Visconti's guidance, went from the greatest Opera singer to the greatest actress singing Opera. There are moments in "Bellissima" that can only be described as a love letter from Visconti to Magnani and vice versa. She has a few close ups that tells us how much love, respect and admiration existed between this two enormous artists. Look at her moments in the mirror, combing her hair naturally, debating under her breath the proper pronunciation of a word. She, not a conventional beauty, looks ravishing. The message about the dangers of immediate fame and fortune could have been written today. If you have a chance, don't miss it. If you love film, it's a must!

Anna Magnani is magnificent as a pushy show-biz mother determined to get her daughter into the movies. She's like an early prototype of Bette Midler but she's more down-to-earth and with a greater propensity for feeling. (Midler could do the comedy but not the pathos). The film is charming but for a Visconti movie, it's slight. It's a great director's trifle about the movies; he enjoys poking fun at the stereotypes he's worked with in more serious films. It's laugh out loud funny.

The film doesn't offer any insights into the movie-making process and even the wheeling and dealing seems perfunctory. At times you wish maybe Visconti had gone a little deeper. (At the end he makes a point that the movies can be shallow but we know that already). Take Magnani out of the equation and there really isn't much left. She's the life-force that holds it together. It really is a great piece of acting.

This is a very small story--a poor woman tries to make her daughter a child movie star--but it has a tremendous, operatic performance from Anna Magnani. Magnani is like all other stage mothers in that the success she desires for the child is really her frustrated ambition for herself (her tiny daughter has no interest in acting, and whines and cries all through the picture), but unlike them in that she never loses her sense of humour. When she realises she has been cheated, instead of becoming outraged, she laughs at her own foolishness, briefly relaxing from her usual blind intensity to become a normal, likable woman.

Her character's desperation to escape her life is understandable when one sees the dump she lives in with her husband and child. The small, dilapidated flat with stained walls, in a building full of fat, sour- faced harpies in hideous housedresses--one never sees such horrors in Hollywood films. Too bad this neo-realism became old-style realism--we could use some of this today as a counter to the candy-floss world we see on TV and in the movies.

One amusing note: The film-struck Magnani says at one point to her husband, "Oh, Burt LanCASter! Molto gentile!" Three years later Lancaster would be playing her lover in The Rose Tattoo.

A wonderful, poignant masterpiece by the great Visconti and Anna-the-Great-Magnani. On the surface, it is a simple story about a mother's obsession to use her little daughter's appearance to escape the poverty of post-war Italy. What transpires is the cruel truth about the beauty- and illusion-making industry (cinema), with all its inherent cynicism, at a time when hunger for the daily bread was equaled by hunger for fantasy and beauty.

I've seen this movie only once, ages ago, and it still remains with me as one of the most unforgettable films I have ever seen. In a world that has seen hundreds of thousands of films that is no small feat.