La ragazza con la valigia

Valerio Zurlini (1926 - 1982) is a somewhat forgotten director with a small oeuvre (8 films).

In "Girl with a suitcase" the 16 years old Lorenzo Fainardi (Jacques Perrin) falls madly in love with Aida Zepponi (Claudia Cardinale) who has been dumped by his older brother. This older brother has started a brief affaire with Aida by promising her a film career.

During most of the film Lorenzo seems to be the victim of the opportunistic Aida, who gladly accepts his gifts and monetary donations. In a key scene a priest, as a sort of oral conscience, reproaches her for this behaviour.

The real tragic character however is Aida herself, who is using but also being used by men and therefore very dependent on them. We see this very clearly in the beautiful final scene.

The film starts very slow and only gets underway in the second half. Claudia Cardinale, who was at the peak of her career ("Rocco and his brothers", 1960, Luchino Visconti / "8,5", 1963, Federico Fellini / "Il gattopardo", 1963, Luchino Visconti), really makes this film.

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.

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.

This may not be a very intuitive observation, and it's even partially stolen from Pauline Kael (at least the Walken part is), but I think Claudia Cardinale has the same thing Christopher Walken has, where you're never sure if there isn't some part of the character you didn't see coming lurking somewhere, ready to jump out and surprise you, just the feminine version of it.

I assume it's (in both cases) not really a method thing, but that they're both actors who are able to bust out all kinds of moves, moods and vibes with ease, confidence and competence alike. Not necessarily coming from training, but raw talent.

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.