La corruption

This bears all the hallmarks of a film by Mauro Bolognini: stunning visual sense, literate script and of course, beautiful people.

Ruthless businessman Leonardo will stop at nothing to prevent his only son from entering the priesthood and once he has introduced him to the luscious Adriana, the young man's fate is sealed. Another nail in the coffin of his idealism is the realisation that a leftist intellectual writer whose works he admires has become one of his father's paid cronies. His fine ideals are eventually worn down and in the final scene he defiantly declares: 'I will defend my money, just like my father'. As he sobs in the car one is left wondering if he will ever come to terms with the life he is now obliged to lead.

Alain Cuny is tremendous and eminently plausible as Leonardo, the ultimate capitalist who believes that everything and everyone has a price(in which he is not far wrong) His son is played by Jacques Perrin. It is more difficult for an actor to play 'good' than 'bad' and he succeeds admirably in portraying young Stefano's moral and spiritual anguish.

Adriana, as played by Rosanna Schiaffino, lives according to her particular moral code whilst her beauty, energy and 'gioia di vivere' are intoxicating. This sultry, smouldering actress was not used to great effect in Hollywood and her best work by far is on 'home turf'. Isa Miranda impresses in a small but harrowing role as Leonardo's ageing, ailing wife.

The stunning images by Leonarda Barboni typify the perfection of black and white cinematography in Italian films of this period. The score is by Antonioni's favoured composer Giovanni Fusco.

The suicide scene at the office and that of the seduction on the yacht are tastefully handled. 'Style over content' is a criticism often levelled at this director's work but that certainly does not apply here. Based upon the novel by Alberto Moravia its theme of disenchantment is timeless.

The film's comparative commercial failure brought the first and most satisfying phase of Bolognini's career to a close.

Alain Cuny had recently played a haunting key supporting role in Fellini's 'La Dolce Vita', which had marked the Italian cinema's decisive break with concern for the underdog to charting the dissolution of the wealthy but aimless. Here he presides over an unholy trinity at sea reminiscent of Polanski's 'Knife in the Water', the younger man this time his vulnerable young son planning to take the cloth; a prospect his satanic father Cuny views with utter abhorrence.

Why is it that quite a few Italian masterpieces are forgotten ? Why is ' Il Mare ', ' Fists in the Pocket ' and ' La Corruzione ' all seemingly lost ? And especially why in the UK they are totally forgotten ? I am not even sure that this great film made it to the UK, and there is no reference to it being shown here. And yet we still have the Fellini films, Antonioni and a sparse collection of Pasolini. It makes no sense that ' La Corruzione ' should be unseen. Jacques Perrin gives one of his finest performances and so does Alain Cuny. The story to me is simple. Why do we all finally give in to the right of the strongest, while those of a gentle and caring nature are destroyed ? I do not see this film as being religious, but it does cry out for higher ideals and that society should not depend upon mechanical responses to life. The ending of the film is overwhelming and in its power beyond anything that Antonioni achieved. I will not spoil it but just to say that it says everything about how apart we are from each other. I disagree with one reviewer about the music. It is one of the best uses of sound, music and its addition to a film, and not its subtraction that I have heard. And why is Schiaffino's beauty mentioned and no mention of the beauty of Perrin during this period of his life ? It is the same old story here and I am not ashamed to repeat it; the ' Male gaze ' remains supreme. Perrin was beautiful, and why is that never voiced, and that he gives his all to every good film that he is in. His eyes alone say more than the dialogue and his greatness as an actor should be celebrated. But to all who can find this film please see it and question the materialist beliefs that this world clings on to. And please, please watch Perrin's face in the final scene, and see with him the ultimate futility of motion that we go through and how we accept its solitary state and the near military movements of our physical pleasures.

In the opening scene of 'La corruzione', the 1963 film by director Mauro Bolognini, the director of an elite Italian high school, he separates from the graduates with a speech in which he exposes a Manichean vision of the world. According to him, the society of the time has two options: the moral one represented by the Catholic faith and the materialist one embodied by the Marxist ideology. For the school graduates, children of the Italian bourgeoisie, the option seems clear. The hero of the film, Stefano Mattoli (Jacques Perrin), heir to an editorial empire in Milan, takes the moral option very seriously and plans to enter a life of priesthood. His father (Alain Cuny) opposes, wishing that his son takes over the business. Can there be a third way? Or perhaps in a crooked world, where principles are violated by everyone, just one, third alternative exists, that of compromise? 'La corruzione' describes a moral drama in simple terms and with a perfect cinematic execution, due to which this apparently minor film, survives very well the almost six decades since it was made.

In the conflict between the father's materialism (not at all Marxist, on the contrary, very capitalist) and the son's idealism there is a third character - Adriana (played by Rosanna Schiaffino), the father's much younger mistress, whom he uses as bait to distract the young Stefano from his priestly thoughts. The woman fascinates with her beauty but is she in control, or is she just another victim of a corrupt world, in which moral integrity and honor have no place? This is not about a love triangle but about an immoral triangle.

Mauro Bolognini's cinematic talent and professionalism manage to prevent this film from being a boring debate of ideas despite its serious substance. What we see on screen is a coming to age and family drama, with credible characters and a psychologically charged atmosphere due to the relationship between father and son, and sexual tension due to the presence of Adriana. At one point I wondered whether the story was moving towards the thriller genre. The story has a very modern open ending. Jacques Perrin intensely plays the role of the teenager whose dreams fall apart in the face of reality. Alain Cuny is distant and cold, as the father's role demands. Rosanna Schiaffino radiates beauty and magnetism. It is also worth mentioning the character of Morandi, the left-wing intellectual and the fallen idol of Stefano, a traitor to the ideals of the anti-fascist resistance. The role is played by Ennio Balbo. Leonida Barboni's cinematography is excellent, both when filming outdoors, at sea or on the streets of the early '60s Milan, but also when he takes us inside the functional headquarters of the editorial corporation or through the lavish but tasteful rooms of the Italian tycoon's villa. Giovanni Fusco's music combines jazz with contemporary classical tones, under the clear and positive influence of the soundtracks of contemporary films produced by the New French Wave. The acting and the cinematic quality make 'La corruzione' a film worth watching or re-watching.

Jacques Perrin has just graduated from high school and has determined to go into the priesthood. His father, Isa Miranda, is a rich industrialist who wants his son to follow in his footsteps. So he takes the youngster on a cruise on his yacht and invites Rosanna Schiaffino along, figuring that nature will take its course.

Mauro Bolognini directs the movie for beautiful images, both at sea and when looking at Signorina Schiaffino. If he is attempting to expose the corruption of the rich, I'd say that he has done so in a simple and obvious manner. What he has done for me is expose the essential black-and-white thinking of his young protagonist, in which everything is either all good or all bad, including himself. Except for that point about naivete -- and if he wants to become a priest, there's still confession -- the only thing stopping him is his own pride.