L'incompris

"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.

In the history of professional film-making,death of a charming family member is a serious yet innocent theme.It is a common knowledge that an amateur director will butcher the look and shape of the film by turning it into a shameless tear jerker.But things would surely be different if the same matter is passed on to a veteran cinéaste.In the hands of versatile Italian director Luigi Comencini death of a family member theme has become a film almost close to a masterpiece.He has shown that his film has no place for melodrama as he depicts human side of people who cope up with the death of a family member.This sad event has been portrayed in the character of a diplomat who has to look after his two young sons after the demise of his wife.Incompreso is an Italian film about the intellectual growth of people both young and old alike who have to face their daily lives in the wake of a death in their midst.Comencini must be felicitated for the manner in which he portrays how life goes on as people must become strong even if there is a somber event of death around.This is because there is nothing in this world for weak people. Everybody must find own ways of dealing with the loss of family members.This is the only sensible message of this film.

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.

"Sir John" (Anthony Quayle) is Her Majesty's consul in Florence. It's a job that comes with a gorgeous villa in a city of beauty and history that is home to his family. It's when a tragedy impacts on that family that he must come to terms with his own loss and continue to support his two young sons. "Andrea" (Stefano Colagrande) is the elder of the two and has been taken into his father's confidence, "Milo" (Simone Giannozzi) is much younger and so is initially left only knowing that their mum is away. These two lads get on like an house on fire, and have some considerable joy winding up their new nanny "Luisa" (Adriana Facchetti) who seems to insist that "Milo" spend as much of his time in bed as he can. Eventually, they manage to drive her to the door, but along the way it becomes clear to us that their father appears to favour his younger son. "Milo" is at an age where he wants to tag along to everything his brother does, and inevitably that causes some trouble for which "Andrea" usually gets the blame - just ask the bus driver or the mischievous "Uncle Wili" (John Sharp). Aware that he is becoming a little distant from "Andrea", the diplomat attempts to spend more time with him, and it's now that it we truly appreciate just how much this youngster adores his dad - but does his dad? This is certainly one of Quayle's more personable performances. Sure, he has the usual imperiousness, but he also exudes a rarely seen softer side as the story evolves. That said, the film belongs, entirely, to the two kids. They bring a wonderfully and engaging naturalness to their personas. It is quite possible that they really are brothers, and work effortlessly together - even when the younger is being a pain and the elder is seeking something more meaningful with his father. Their dialogue, and occasionally some of the direction, reminds us that their is recent grief to be dealt with, but that is very subtly expressed by a triumvirate of characters who are dealing, as best they can, with the hand fate has dealt them - but without always understanding just how this has affected the others. For a change, a film set in this finest of Italian cities doesn't dwell on the location at all, they could be anywhere, it's all about these three and though I really, really, did not like the conclusion at all, I really did enjoy the film.

In terms of status, Italian director Luigi Comencini reminds me of his American contemporary Sydney Lumet : as a director, he would embark in equal proportion into projects that were his very personal and others which were more like a studio contract thing. Yet (and that too is true of both directors), all along his fifty-year career, he has shown a remarkable ability to make personal, ambitious projects highly entertaining for millions of spectators, while on the other hand imprinting his unmistakable touch on projects that were meant by producers to be for the standard production. In other terms - and that again is true of both Lumet and Comencini - he's been, for more than fifty years, walking the tightrope between art and entertainment with outstanding virtuosity.

Incompreso, now... Well, Incompreso is not only an excellent movie. It is not only one of the many, many proofs that popular entertainment made in Cinecittà during the Golden Age (1950-1980) is exactly as outstanding, and perhaps even more, than all the "great-author" films that critics (including American critics, when it comes to Europe) automatically favor, while ignoring completely - back then, at least - the marvels of popular movie entertainment. Incompreso is not only one of the best movies ever made about childhood. It is not only one of Luigi Comencini's greatest achievements outside of "commedia all'italiana", the tragicomic new genre of which he was one of the three Grand Masters (the two others being Risi and Monicelli).

Incompreso is more than all this because all this - all that I have said so far - is about classification, status, polemics with those darned intellectuals, etc, the will to save a dream-come-true cinematography that was tragically underestimated not only abroad but in Italy as well - the country that for decades showed the greatest gap of all between the tastes of the critics and those of the public. All these are my personal axes to grind. But now, you must forget about this, and concentrate on watching Incompreso.

When you will watch Incompreso, and I know you will, something will happen to your heart : at some point, you will feel it cracking and you won't be able to help it. And then it will crack some more. Near the unforgettable conclusion, it will fall on the ground in thousands of little pieces. But unlike so many other melodramas, this one refrains from using one single cheap trick. I mean it. It never tricks the spectator into crying. The crying comes only too naturally, with no strings attached or pulled.

Luigi Comencini's Incompreso is the most intense, the most powerful, the most poignant melodrama ever put to screen. And ever means ever. Straight from the heart, straight to the heart, without one single cheap trick. Why use artificial tricks that treat spectators like puppets, while simple reality is enough to reach to their heart? Childhood is the best of times, childhood is the worse of times : both are equally true at the same time and there is nothing we can do to change this.

As a movie-goer, I feel deeply indebted to Mr. Comencini. But the children in me loves him even more. Thanks to the many french-speaking TV channels of my country (Canada), I grew up with the best movie ever made FOR kids, in six perfect episodes of 52 minutes each : Luigi Comencini's Le Avventure di Pinocchio, which made me laugh so much. Then I saw the best movie ever made ABOUT kids : Luigi Comencini's Incompreso - and I cried a river.

Luigi Comencini is 90 years old.