La ragazza con la valigia

This somewhat mediocre and meandering melodramatic film by Zurlini features Claudia Cardinale at her most exquisitely beautiful in every shot and what shots! Beautiful long takes that allow you to concentrate on whatever you want. Tino Santoni is a hell of cinematographer, whoever he was, a total master. If the script had been a little bit better the film might've ended up transcending into a superpoetic realm like Zurlini's awesome technicolor 1962 film "Family Diary"; as it is, it's very much a failure in an overall sense but still pretty good as probably the ultimate ode to one of the most beautiful actresses in cinematic history.

I watched this together with Eastwood's "Million Dollar Baby." I knew I would be challenged by that film (you can read my comment), and I wanted something that I knew would be a safe island after the offenses therein.

I chose this. Its between "Million" and "Nights of Cabiria" and more perfect than both in my view. The spine of this film is a story of a prostitute/dancer, an adventuress with few skills for the job. We see some encounters that provide insights, not into her character so much, but what limits her, and that matters because we discover many of those same limits in us.

Its a good film, largely forgotten today because its merely competent and not showy or overtly experimental as so many from that block were. But if you want an antidote to those bad films of good men, come here.

It has the economy of Eastwood, in fact this very tradition is where he learned his directorial craft. But its economy directed toward conveying the environment, the context in which our two characters find themselves. It's geared to the context not the actors, who after all can only tell you what is in themselves, not is what is in their world.

It has the depressing rootlessness of those early Fellini films, but it emerges from the real world we see instead of being an overt essay on what we know is Fellini's perspective that starts from the very beginning. This emerges.

Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.

Although Claudia Cardinale didn't achieve Sophia Loren's renown, there's no denying that she's an equally great actress. An example is "La ragazza con la valigia" ("Girl with a Suitcase" in English). The subtlety that Valerio Zurlini instills in the movie helps move this story of an accidental love triangle along at just the right pace.

It's the sort of movie that deserves a lot more recognition (especially given the current glut of franchise-driven cinema). I'm now hungry for other movies directed by Zurlini, or other Italian movies from this era. In the meantime, it's definitely a movie that you should see.

I have news for you. Claudia, as beautiful as she is, is not the most beautiful person in this film. That would be Jacque Perrin. He was 19 when the film was made (his character is 16), and the camera lingers on him in scene after scene.

The story is simple: Perrin's character falls for Claudia. She's an adult, he's not. She's poor, he's nobility.

Perrin's understated performance is a dead-on portrait of adolescent longing. His eyes tell the whole story. It's difficult to imagine that any man could watch him without experiencing flashbacks to his own adolescence. He doesn't know whether to hope, or not, but he can't help hoping anyway. He doesn't know anything about adult courtship, so he improvises as he goes along. He's unfailingly, achingly, kind and polite (see first clause, previous sentence). He's brave, as he pushes against, and sometimes breaks, the rules that bind a young man not yet old enough to make his own rules.

Claudia, meanwhile, also provides a deeply thought performance, as a young woman whose poverty constrains her every move. She wants some tiny measure of security-- her fear of of the very real possibility of being out on the streets in palpable. She has no way to reach safety without depending on a man, but men have been awful to her. And, she wants desperately not to cross the final line of degradation and become a whore. She'll take money, but only if she can satisfy herself that it is a gift-- that is, only if she can feel that she still has some measure of choice in what happens next. Several men, including Perrin, are trying to "help" her. We see her hesitate, and calculate, in almost every conversation: trying to decide if the safety offered is real, calculating what she will have to give up if she accepts. Claudia is not in glamor mode here: she is beautiful, and the men are swarming around her, but her clothes are cheap, and she's living out of her suitcase.

This is a fine film, but it's not likely to be in anyone's top ten. I think most people will find it moving and well worth watching.

Why not a GREAT film? I think this is not so much because of particular flaws of the film, as because of its modest dimensions. The film is not trying to make a grand statement. It delivers deeply felt and moving drama, and two completely believable and interesting characters. Enough for me. P.S.: On the dubbed version, the voicing is surprisingly good.

There are moments in this film when you feel your feet lift of the ground and you enter a pure state of movie nirvana. Only the Italians could bring together style, elegance, poise, wit, sensitivity and irony like this, and play it out in the real world with real characters. The amour fou seems original: the sensitive ingenue is nobility (Jacques Perrin), while the girl (Claudia Cardinale) - his older brother's cast-off - is an impoverished drifter. It's not so much the obvious contrast in their backgrounds that provides the tension so much as the directions their yearnings take, that flash across each others' paths like ungainly swordsmanship. The fresh faces of the leads are a delight. It's really the quiet dignity of Perrin that carries the film while Cardinale is the sudden whirlwind that blows into his life. Technique is employed to brilliant effect: the waist-level camera, Zurlini's signature artistic shadows on the walls, and, most tellingly, the way distant characters gradually draw close to our position, a trick established with the first shot of the film. There's no finer kind of cinema.