Indagine su un cittadino al di sopra di ogni sospetto

The final scene in Elio Petri's 1970 Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion concludes with a quote from Kafka's The Trial: "Whatever he may seem to us, he is yet a servant of the Law; that is, he belongs to the Law and as such is set beyond human judgment." What Petri has left out from this excerpt is also that "to doubt his integrity is to doubt the Law itself". The "he" in question here is the man of the Law – the police inspector – played brilliantly, hair slicked back et al, by Gian Maria Volontè. Without any scruples, we see the Inspector coldly cut his mistress's throat with a razor between the sheets in a kinky role-playing romp, sans scruples, only to prove to himself if he is, as he believes, a citizen above suspicion and beyond the Law which he so firmly adheres to.

This complex film is a cinematic gem thanks to its multifarious tropes – at times absurd black comedy, at times vitriolic political satire, at times psychological study into sexual fetishism and power. Of course, all of these themes intermingle so effortlessly that you can't help but be taken aback by the richness of Petri's byzantine vision. The left-leaning director here depicts the autocratic terror that overtook Italy in the late 60s, an overture to the tense, decade-long period known as the "years of lead" in Italian politics – a time of fascist repression and a struggle between the equally-as-extreme left and right of center parties.

Beyond its political overtones (which are universal yet now paradoxically outdated, as we see rebellious students waving their little red Maoist books around to anger the "fascist pigs" in the police force), Investigation plays its strongest and most universal hand in its view of authority, and specifically, those that wield an ungodly amount of it. The Inspector, in a snug, black suit, commands and degrades his subordinates, yet in the way a responsible teacher would reprimand a naughty student. That is, he believes his own righteousness and position, and here, once he commits the murder of Augusta Terzi (the stunning Florinda Bolkan), he leaves the Law to spin its wheels of Justice, having full confidence in the organ of power that commands him. As the Inspector sits in the office of his boss, the Commissioner (a sleazy Gianni Santuccio), he trembles like a child, waiting for approval and acceptance. After the latter admits to having an affair with the murdered victim, the unperturbed Commissioner asks him amidst a smoke-filled smirk, holding a cigar in his fat fingers, "So, was she, you know? Any good?" Here we can make the link between power and sexual impotence, as the simple reason the Inspector kills his lover is because she has brought to light his personal inadequacies as a man. An individual who holds such dominance over others, who commands such authority, is an addictive aphrodisiac for Bolkan's underwear-hating heroine, but after a while, she sees her Inspector is nothing more than a capricious child obsessed and deceived with a position of power that holds no integrity and no truth. For her, his sexual appeal has vanished, the organ of dominance has grown limp, as the incongruity between the Inspector's projected image and his actual self begins to grow. She hates his little black socks, his dull black suit, and his overall bureaucratic appearance. In a few great satirical moments, we see the impressionable Inspector strolling the streets in a trendy new khaki suit, a purple silk ascot, fashionable sunglasses – a caricature of Italian culture to the fullest.

So what prompts Volontè's Inspector to make his final decision? Is he a stern follower of the Law who wants to test it and prove himself superior to his inept colleagues; a sadistic neofascist bureaucrat who lives for control and subjugation of others; an infantile with a bruised ego thanks to an untamable feminine force? Are we, as viewers, not to question his actions, but simply to accept them as necessary because he's "a man of the Law", superior to us, despite his faults, as Kafka leads us to believe…or is that just Petri's tongue-in-cheek humor getting the best of us? That's the fun of this great film, and the kookiness of Ennio Morricone's twangy score adds to the comical effect of a dark and witty étude into power, sex, and politics.

This 1970s Italian political drama opens with a compelling murder live show, a dapper man, Volonté (the head of homicide squad) artfully kills his erotic mistress (Bolken) with a sharp blade, and what's befuddling the viewers is after that, Volonté intentionally leaves many traces which could be implicated to him at the scene of the crime, all the more a face-to-face encounter with a witness when he leaves the building. Naturally, one has to divine his motivation of his deviant contrivances, but the film doesn't opt to give a straightforward answer to the illogicality, instead it unwinds itself into a sociological tirade aiming at the blazon compliance of the ruling power echelon, Volonté has been promoted to a more authoritarian post, politics-oriented, and the cover-up process degrades the whole investigation into a farce, lushly recorded by the agile camera.

Arguably, this is Elio Petri's most famous film, an Oscar's BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM crowner, and won him 2 awards in CANNES that year, Petri may not occupy an international cachet so high as his Italian peers, but the film can potently justify his talent, it is an authentic gas, wonderfully designed camera-work with a great architectonic predilection, astute sense of unpicking the tacit phone-interception dirty business, a twitchy sensibility towards the rotten authorities, and upbraids an undeniable self-awareness of being politically-biased.

Volonté is tailor-made for the leading role, a typical male chauvinist, over-cocksure by appearance while underneath he is a man haunted by his impotence and jealousy (Bolken has mentioned a few times he is only a child which effectively irritates him), although ambiguous about the raison d'être of his act, Volonté is confident, menacing and impressive out of his common Spaghetti image. Bolken is billed as the co-lead, but mostly appears in flashback and the film has curtailed her character to a sexy trophy, a power-worshipper and a dispensable pawn whose stupidity overshadows her own demise, nevertheless she is a stunner in all her shots. The standout of the all-male supporting cast is Salvo Randone as an innocent plumber, who caves in poignantly in front of power, a bona-fide scene stealer.

Last but not the least is Ennio Morricone's score, the repeated motif has a synthesized rhythm, catchy and indelible, throughout the film, it renders the film a touch of ridicule and never leave any chance for the audiences to be bored by the doctrinal tone the film unintentionally betrays.

I first saw this movie in December 1969 in New York. Apparently it did not open in LA before the year ended and, as a consequence, won best foreign film for 1970 (Z won for 1969). In the 1990's sometime IFC aired the film and I was lucky enough to tape it and then transfer it to DVD.

During the years following seeing the film, I would recommend the film to all my friends. What struck me when I had the chance to view it again was how well I had remembered the movie, every scene. Few, if any, movies ever made such a lasting impression from my first viewing and it still has that effect.

Besides the great script and direction, what made it complete was one of the finest performances by an actor I've ever seen. It is up there with the greatest work of such as Olivier, O'Toole, Depardieu and Mastroianni, to name a few whose work was staggering.

As to its unavailability, maybe someone should rattle IFC's cage asking them to air it again or maybe get TCM to air it.

Authority, Order, Power, these are Law's three pillars. Law protects citizens and defends them against crime. Law is made of values and incarnated by men. Those men serve Law, serve citizens and the mission's nobility lies on the fact that it applies to anyone. That's the basis of democracy and the strength of Law. No one is above it. Therefore, in a fair system, anyone can be theoretically suspect. But, the weakness of Law is that it paradoxically implies the use of its main dual medium : repression and punishment which are, after all, the only way to protect the good citizens ... as potential victims. So let's say to make it simpler that Law has two arms, one holding a shield to protect the good citizens and the other holding a sword to punish the bad ones.

One man, called Il Dottore, is holding the sword. He was the former Head of Homicide Squad and leads now the Political Bureau of the Italian Security Court. His speech in the beginning of the film, clearly announces him as a man with palpable fascist tendencies, although the overuse of the word 'fascist' kind of weakens its meaning. This man, incarnated by Gian Maria Volonte, exults the value of a powerful state above any consideration of individual rights. The state must be powerful, authoritarian and any ideas that threaten Law and Order, should be mercilessly fought. It's too simplistic to call this 'fascism', some would say fascism was born in Italy, which would explain that the ideas of a man like Il Dottore could be impregnated by a certain fascist vision but they'd be forgetting that Italy is also the country of Machiavelli, and the whole plot of this psychological political thriller could be considered as a deep, Machiavellian character study.

Il Dottore is fascist in his beliefs and Machiavelian in his acts, two contradictions that totally cancel each other out and makes him more of a very interesting pathological case of egomania. The man wants to prove that the very system that maintains Law and Order, Police and Justice, is flawed because it ensures the existence of citizens beyond suspicion. This man wants to denounce the main obstacle, the thing that makes his job ethically useless. The mission sounds noble... except that the way he chose to prove his point is the act of a maniac. A crime to denounce, to make the point he himself incarnates, that there are some citizens above suspicion. So high above this suspicion that they can leave clues to denounce themselves without never being worried. Because people believe in men who incarnate order. Power's aura seems more efficient than its use. Power relies on its own abuse.

And that's the theme of the film. What is power? Il Dottore incarnates it with such charisma and virile magnetism that whatever comes off his mouth sounds like the truth. If he says he's guilty, it can't be anything but irony or sarcasm. The simple thought that he could be guilty of the crime he committed sounds like a blasphemy. Indeed, the power is a deified notion. And like the power of God is perceived in our everyday life, the same goes for Law. Order is real, and can't be based on abstraction. The paradox is that an abstraction is not palpable enough to be respected. Fear of punishment controls people more than interests, as said Machiavelli. Therefore, it is no surprise that socialism is considered as an escapism from individual interests and therefore can understand only one language : repression. Il Dottore handles the questioning of the left-wing activists just as if he had personal reasons to fight them, because they're the most likely people to legitimate the use of repressive violence.

Indeed, it is personal. Jealousy, weakness, humiliation, power is represented by men, who are flawed. This is a brilliant character study of a man using power as an artifice to disguise his weaknesses. He's the Law but he's a citizen, he's power and he's powerless. His interactions with his victim totally deconstruct the character, and extinguish the aura and prestige he incarnates for his men. With this woman, his authority is like the toy the little boy proudly shows. Power allows him to run a red light or share some gross crime-related experiences, so voyeur it sounds childish. They're big children but they have the power. So, whom the power belongs to ? Women? Anarchists? Who's the leader? the system ? No, what leads the world is only human judgment ... The truth is in its appearance and this is what guides human perception.

Il Dottore denounces these fallacious perceptions in such an original way, we also can't believe this man has this status and is so respected, which makes us question the legitimacy of some our leaders ... after all, men are men, and behind every great man, there's a woman, and who really knows how these so-called great men behave with these women? Gian Maria Volonte gives us a hint through an extraordinary performance. In the cinematic world of character studies, Il Dottore is a living paradox highlighting our own weaknesses as men who believe in a system of powers, or our owns for the luckiest ones. His charisma makes him all the more pathetic in some key scenes and his pathos more admirable in some others. Elio Petri's investigation is a fascinating political thriller whose introspectively paranoid feeling is sublimated by Ennio Morricone's score.

"Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion" is an intelligent masterpiece denouncing the paradoxical nature of Law where the holders of the sword tend to fight those who hide themselves behind the shield while the shield protects only those who use the sword. Gian Maria Volonte is the soul of this contradiction.

Saw this film in New York at a revival. The tale of power and of right-wing/fascist politics corrupting is shockingly timely even today, in this time of global conflict, with enemies branded "unpatriotic."

The movie portrays the moral corruption of Italian police and politics in the 1970's, with totalitarian tactics wrapped in patriotism. The movie's lead policeman is swept up in the power of position. Sadly, it's only too easy for me to believe his ability to use his position and power to manipulate people and place himself above "the law".

The movie "looks" Italian and 1970's, with stark concrete and flat colors, which appealed to me. The story builds well, jumping backwards to fill in details, to climax in an alternate possible ending, very believable. I highly recommend it.