L'incompris

Since 1966, when I watched for the first time the beautiful "Incompreso - Misunderstood" of Luigi Comencini, I was moved to tears. I was 9 yo, had already red the book of Florence Montgomery and I was a little bit disappointed that Comencini had turned the story in Italy, in Florence, and adapted all the situations. During next years I grew up and I understood that the choice of Comencini was correct. I was always fascinated by the performance of Andrea (Humphrey), "actor" Stefano Colagrande... we are nearly the same age and I really felt in myself the same children's anxieties and passions that he shows so well, and acts perfectly, in this movie. I'm very glad that, thanks to internet, I found where Stefano Colagrande, who didn't act anymore, is today, and which is his job: he's a great Physician, and he's a Professor at the University of Florence. Sometimes life is grateful with sensitive persons! Thanks a lot for what you gave me, Doctor Stefano! GP

With a script based on a novel by Florence Montgomery, this is a tragic story, of a family torn apart by the premature death of the mother and the attempt by the husband and two young children to overcome this irreparable loss.

The father, believing that his eldest son would be more mature and better prepared to face the tragedy, seeks his complicity, to avoid further suffering for the youngest. But this decision turns out to be tragically wrong.

It's a well-made film (although the Italian dubbing, by British actors Anthony Quayle and John Sharpe, takes away some of the authenticity of the adaptation), centered on a child's perspective on family tragedy.

But the adapted work lacks the British spirit, that coldness that gives a certain nobility to the tragedy. Dubbed in Italian and centered on two mischievous children, with a clearly Latin spirit, the work is excessively melodramatic. A Latin fatalism, which does not fit well with the haughtiness of Anglo Saxon suffering.

I think the work loses strength in this Italian adaptation. A more formal and British treatment of these young orphans, with the rebelliousness and wit that should characterize them, would give more meaning and depth to the final outcome.

"It's not easy being a son"

These are the words Michael had to Fredo in "The Godfather Part II" and if there ever is a movie, fittingly an Italian one, that expressed to the fullest how tragically misunderstood a son can be by his father, it's Luigi Comencini's 1966 "Il Incompresso" or "Misunderstood".

I'm recollecting the two movies because I discovered them at the same time, 23 years ago during an Italian-themed month on TV during which Italian as much as Italian-American classics were aired, and while I wasn't mature enough to get into the "Godfather" films, I remember discovering "Cinema Paradisio" and "Misunderstood". And ever since that day I saw it with my father and my grandmother, I never forgot how upsetting it was. I hate situations of misunderstandings, so I really got my share during the film, not that it prepared me well for the ending. Like another Italian masterpiece, "Bicycle Thief", a father-and-son relationships is the inspiration of an extraordinary tearjerker, this time set in a rich and wealthy background as if the theme transcended any cultural and social barriers.

And now that I saw the film again and that my tears dried, I'm realizing one thing, I was sad at the age of 11 because I constantly rooted for little Andrew, especially since I had a little brother too, but now, I sympathized with the father, maybe because I became one. Or because there might be something more tragic than being misunderstood by someone you love: it is misunderstanding the one you love. In fact, it's not easy to be a father either. And the tragedy of the father, Sir John Duncombe, an English diplomat in Florence, is that he didn't understand his son at the worst possible time, when he announces him that his mother is dead and takes his silence and absence of tears as toughness while the kid is devastated inside and only let it go in his father's absence.

But Cinema is a tricky medium, because you never see any real interaction between John and Andrew, John can only observe the troubles Andrew causes, and Andrew, no matter how hard he tries to please John, puts himself in worse situations. The judo scene is a brilliant and quite realistic example: resigned not to see his father, Andrew actually wins the match until his father's last-minute arrival distracts him and he's immediately defeated. This is Andrew's story in microcosm, because he can't communicate properly with his father, even the positive moments end with incidents. "Misunderstood" is the chronicle of this failure of communication and as viewers, we're put in an extremely uncomfortable position because we know the problem, and we wish they knew how easily they could be closer to each other.

Andrew is played by one-hit actor Stefano Colagrande and is absolutely heartbreaking in that role, trying to cope with the loss of his mother, the quest for understanding from his father, and a bratty little brother, Miles, played by Simone Giannozi. Miles obviously idolizes his big brother but is too young to 'understand', being in a constant need of a playmate so when he doesn't get what he wants, pull some capricious tantrums and puts his brother in difficult situations. Anthony Quayle displays some remarkable dignity as a quiet, decent fatherly figure trying to instill some adult maturity and responsibility to his older son, like any father. He's certainly not an antagonist, and perhaps as much a victim as Andrew, blinded by his judgment, overestimating the toughness of Andrew's heart while it's his most vulnerable spot.

And the mother is a memory that haunts the three of them, maybe the sole force to unify them. From this woman, only a recorded voice and a picture are left but the voice is erased when Andrew accidentally types on the wrong button… causing his father to be more estranged to him. But the film relieves us from all this sadness and takes an interesting path when Uncle Will (John Sharp) comes. This is a pivotal character because he can see the father and the son separately, and the vulnerability of Andrew strikes him like a flash of light. He then gives a cynical yet wise advice to his brother: kids are like dogs, they need authority, don't tell your son you love him, have something to do with him. I mentioned Fredo Corleone, didn't he complain that he had nothing special to do?

The Uncle visit pays off and things go well until the little brother's jealousy starts the tragic chain of event. Resigned about his status as the ugly duckling, alienating himself for his father's love and endangering his life more and more, Andrew's self-challenging habit to hang on a dead tree above a river ends in tragedy, forever wasting the opportunity of a magnificent reconciliation. It's not totally wasted as John, as if God wanted to give him and Andrew a break, gave them one last moment of complicity, and the object of this final intimate interaction is just so painful I can't even write it without feeling a pain in the chest. I just have that face of Anthony Quayle in mind, a poor man who realized his mistake when it was too late. There is no bad guy in the film, only misguided people.

And if there is one thing to learn from Luigi Comencini's film is that 'understanding' is perhaps more important than loving and respecting, both depend on understanding and without it, they're just empty shells. And how sad that a film delivering such a poignant and powerful message is not more known... 50 years after it was released, there is only one thread on IMDb, eleven reviews (well, twelve now) and zero critic on Rotten Tomatoes, I want to say this is as tragic as the story itself.

Duncombe, cold and distant father, besides UK Consul General in Florence, carelessly applies his stark communicative methods with his first son Andrew after his wife's death, which Andrew had sensed well before his father's disclosure of the sad news.

Duncombe's several duties, which constantly keep him away from the family, force Andrew to look after Miles, his little brother. Andrew valiantly carries on, humoring his spoiled sibling, putting on the apparent front of a strong man, getting himself into a lot of trouble due to Miles' continuous mischiefs.

Unbeknownst to his father, Andrew silently suffers his loss; blame is all Duncombe lays on young Andrew, probably due to his incapacity to deal with such pain himself.

It will be at the end, as often seen in life, that the diplomat will experience his second loss, probably the ultimate one, the one he negligently couldn't prevent. His coldness will eventually hit him during the last moments of Andrew's early, shattered adulthood.

Comencini gives this young man the power to annihilate the lavish and colorful home and surrounding environment, reminding us that once it's too late there's no return. There's perfect synchronicity between the colors/tones/score and the setting of the picture, a rather clear representation of life in Florence during the late 60's where roles, both social and professional were well defined.

Using a term I have commented with for a different movie, we are seeing a positive-negative image of Comencini's Pinocchio, where the father is constantly running after his son, both for loneliness and to keep him out of trouble. I think some of us will agree with the fact that Miles' role somewhat reminds us of the fictional character.

The comment's title has, for the record, its ambivalence.

Excellent movie about a dumb father...

After the lost of his beloved mother a child has to bear that his father didn't die, too: "Everybody can't be an orphan." (Jules Renard) Better have wise enemies than stupid friends.

Among Comencini's movies how much more enjoyable is Bette Davis' sadism in " The Scientific Cardplayer" than Anthony Quayle's helplessness here.

Quayle's renowned ability to (dis)play an everlasting blubbering face was most important to directors, like: J. Lee Thompson for "The Guns of Navarone" Cyril Frankel for "No Time for Tears"