Mon voyage en Italie

Intense and prolific filmmaker Martin Scorsese did not seem to be satisfied with projecting the influence he drew from Italian films from the 1940s, '50s, and '60s on his own films. So, he spends four solid hours explaining the details and expressions of at least thirty films, all condensed into about ten minutes each. He analyzes and discloses trivia about each of them and pours out all of his passion into this like water bore over his shoulders that he can't bear anymore.

For awhile, I was wondering why he would spend so much time doing this. Why make a movie wherein most of the footage is taken from other movies? Why examine a condensed version of each film from beginning to end when we may want to see these movies ourselves? Well, after awhile, I realized the point of this. Scorsese had a very important reason why he wanted to make this epic documentary. It's because these films are what made him the filmmaker he is, not to mention the person he is, and their effects have not weakened throughout time. So, he wants to perpetuate their lives. He wants to interest younger generations, such as mine, in these films and their makers.

And I'll tell you what. It works. I am now very interested in seeing a lot of these movies. I realize I have not seen nearly enough films by Roberto Rossellini, Luchino Visconti, or Vittorio De Sica. And I plan to, thanks to Scorsese's film.

This is less a documentary than a visual diary of one man's selective view of Italian Cinema of the 50's & 60's. Of course, when that man is Martin Scorsese, it demands the attention of cineastes worldwide. In the introduction, one could assume that Scorsese will give a general view of the Italian films he saw as a child and as a young adult. But soon, he plunges into a hour plus mini-documentary of Roberto Rossellini. This is certainly understandable not only because Rossellini was a seminal Italian filmmaker, but because Scorsese in fact married into the family (via his ex Isabella). From there it's on to Visconti, De Sica, Fellini and Antonioni. And, that's about all. A few other filmmakers are touched upon briefly, but those five comprise the heart of the nearly 4 hour long film. Of course, rarely has a country given the world cinema a quintet as gifted as these five men. Still, it would have been illustrative if Scorsese had donated perhaps half and hour of the picture to a survey of the other Italian filmmakers of the era. These are mere quibbles, however. For no world class filmmaker (with the possible exception of Truffuat) has ever poured out so much emotion and depth of understanding for other directors as Scorsese has here. The portrayal of Rossellini in particular will be hard-pressed to ever be equaled - let alone surpassed. A demanding, yet essential film history.

Instead of doing commentary on the DVDs of his favorite Italian films, which he probably could do better than anyone else alive, being a masterfully adept teacher as well as the greatest working American director, Scorsese has decided to make his own film about them so he could relate them to his own development as a director. He relates how in the late '40s and early '50s, early Neo-Realist masterworks such as "Paisa" were shown often on New York area TV because of the large Italian-American population there, and what an indelible mark they made on him, a kid used to escapist Hollywood films. The films Scorsese's talking about, of course, are those of Rossellini, De Sica, Fellini, Visconti, and Antonioni. He leaves out some of the lesser known master directors such as Valerio Zurlini and Francesco Rossi, but does drop in a fascinating little visit to the beautifully dreamlike and nearly forgotten films of Alessandro Blasetti (1860, Fabiola) in his discussion of the common elements, born of a 2000 year old tradition, of Italian-made fantasy films and neo-realist films, as opposed to most Hollywood films.

Scorsese's sense of humor and eye for bizarre detail and the hilariously nuanced absurdities of some of these films are in top form throughout, and it's quite obvious from the get-go that he knows these films like the back of his hand. He's so passionate about these films that often his voice falters a little as you can hear him audibly moved to the point of tears in the voice-over!

The films he goes into in considerable detail are "ROME, OPEN CITY," "PAISA," "GERMANY: YEAR ZERO," "STROMBOLI," "AMORE," "ST. FRANCIS OF THE FLOWERS," "EUROPA 51," "VOYAGE TO ITALY," "SHOESHINE," "BICYCLE THIEF," "GOLD OF NAPLES," "OSSESSIONE," "LA TERRA TREMA," "SENSO" (Scorsese uses a breathtakingly beautiful restored print when discussing this technicolor Visconti film), "I VITELLONI" (the direct inspiration for "Mean Streets," as well as George Lucas' "American Graffitti"), "LA DOLCE VITA," "L'AVVENTURA," "THE ECLIPSE," and then closes the nearly 4 and half hour discussion with a brilliantly wide-scoped dissection of his favorite Italian film: "8-1/2."

Maybe if I lived in New York, perhaps I'd have the chance to take a master class in cinema; but I don't and I haven't. So warmly grateful I was along with a half-full house Memorial Day morning at the Seattle International Film Festival to absorb Scorsese's generous tutorial on Italian neo-realism. Of the dozen or more films filleted, I'd never laid eyes on three-quarters of them. The four-hour experience was like taking a double-tank dive to a sunken ship and coming back up with treasures. I'll definitely find a way to see "Open City", "Paisa", "Senso" and "Eclipse". Scorsese's gentle, loving commentary as he sends us sailing on a sea of images is so intimate and, occasionally, so humorous that I felt my heart grow inside me. This documentary will take you deep into a humanity that most Americans have never empathetically understood. This film is an event in maturity, an act of love.

Martin Scorsese has compiled a fascinating personal documentary in "Mio viaggio in Italia." What makes this so compelling is the compassion with which Scorsese renders his selections.

He admits to having discovered these films, from his childhood to adulthood, not through reading about them (as in a film textbook) but actually experiencing them in the theater. His passion for these works and their directors exudes with great enthusiasm, which becomes infectious.

The films are not superficially presented, but rather in substantial enough portions as to allow one to glean their essence--at the same time, without ruining seeing the entire work.

His interpretive commentaries reveal one who has been deeply affected by these productions, and who has given great thought to their meaning and significance.

For the film buff, this is a most engrossing journey; for the young person new to Italian cinema, this is a valuable introduction to an artistic treasure chest.