La ragazza con la valigia

... the one where Lorenzo watches Aida dancing with that older man. She was supposed to go to the movies with him but she chose to have dinner with a group of other guests at the hotel, and after dinner they start partying and dancing. At one point there is a close-up of Lorenzo that lasts for at least one minute. He looks at them dancing, looks away, takes a sip from his drink, fidgets, with all these different expressions on his face: jealousy, frustration, anger, discomfort, despair. No dialogue. Wonderfully acted and directed. That scene is worth more than all car chase sequences since the beginning of Cinema put together.

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.

Zurlini introduces a familiar theme, a futile relationship with an older woman and a younger man, perfected in his later film `Violent Summer,' but here Aida, Claudia Cardinale, plays a nighclub singer who is jilted in the opening moments of the film and spends the rest of the film searching for a way out of the stereotypical relationship of a beautiful woman using, and being used by men, a dependent and unhealthy relationship. When Marcello, a cad who lives in a lavish estate, tells his 16 year old younger Lorenzo, Jacques Perrin, to get rid of the girl, the younger brother's interest turns from bewilderment to unbridled obsession, as the high-strung, free-spirited girl surprisingly is flattered by his attention and by her belief that he has money, contrasting the obvious class distinction between the two, he lives in a statue-filled estate with his family, she lives alone out of a suitcase in a hotel room. The adults in the film are overly stern and heartless, represented by the familiar Zurlini statues which can be seen throughout his entire body of work; this lifelessness is contrasted against the passion of youth. The relationship comes to a screeching halt with the intervention of the family priest who questions Aida's motives with such a young and impressionable boy, urging her to move on. This is a brilliant scene where they speak in what appears to be a museum construction area, broken statues lie about with other scattered debris as the priest tries to reconstruct the spiritual direction of the young lovers, urging them to go their separate ways. This leads Aida into the arms of another conniving man who attempts to seduce her with plenty of money and alcohol, but Lorenzo arrives, refuses to butt out, gets his butt kicked by the older man, which leads to this extraordinarily long, beautifully evolving scene on the beach where the two lovers are caught up in the mysteries of their own futility, a kind of existential despair, surrounded by the wonderment of nature. This film constantly shifts the focus on who is the victim and who is to blame, in the end there are no answers, just a continuous search.

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 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.