Le caïman

A movie on (or against) Berlusconi, the media tycoon which is presently also prime minister of Italy? This is the "leit motive" in these days, at two weeks distance from the general elections. And the movie was released just yesterday... Is the movie a political propaganda one? Nanni Moretti in an interview broadcast on the same date asserts that he had no intention to make politics. Maybe! Anyhow the scene of Berlusconi at the European Congress in Brussels when he shouted "kapò" to a German delegate and refused to excuse himself or the sequence at the Criminal Court of Milano during a process for mafia connections speak for themselves. Apart from politics, the movie is on the tradition of the Moretti ones, "Caro Diario" and "La Stanza del Figlio" in particular and it is worth to be seen.

First, I enjoyed this movie a lot. I loved the whole lot of film quotes and cameos of directors, including a couple of Moretti trademark takes (like the painting of the scenes while dancing). Someone could say before seeing it "Hey, here's another Michael Moore trying to turn some votes from the conservatives..." but this is TOTALLY wrong. Moretti is above all a director, and you can like him or not, but his movie is something completely different. You will continue to enjoy this movie in 20 years, while apart from some history students, I foresee no such a future for Fahrenheit 9/11... Back to "The Caiman". This is the first movie ever on such a slippery topic like our beloved Prime Minister (oh, yes, FORMER Prime Minister now...). As many readers may know, he was by far the main actor of Italian politics for nearly 15 years now, and no one dared to take a picture of the Italian society, so widely influenced by him and his TVs (good or bad, doesn't matter here). Why, you may ask? Because it's too easy to flatter or offend such a controversial guy; Moretti managed to softly skim over the whole thing, trying to take a picture of Italy in these years... Silvio Orlando's character voted for him, and he never quite criticizes him; the scenes of the would-be movie are soft, never judging, in some cases even childish. As Moretti said, the aim of the movie is not to let the people know the facts about Berlusconi; they are widely known, even by his supporters. But then it comes to an end. And here is no more softness or light. Orlando manages to have the money to shoot only the end of the movie, here Nanni is the actor interpreting the Caiman. He is impressive, bitter, sharp and his grin is something hard to forget. But, still, he is Him; freed from the restraints of physical similarities, it is the same Moretti we've seen as Botero in "Il Portaborse", only Botero now is not so fictitious or unreal. Botero has become the Caiman.

Much touted as Moretti's 'Berlusconi' movie, (and it does end, somewhat chillingly, on the trial when the 'film-within-the-film' has taken over completely), "Il Caimano" is a sweeter, darker, more personal film than the Berlusconi tag might suggest. Indeed the infamous PM isn't really a character at all, or rather that is all he is, a character in a film script. Instead, it's all about Bruno, a director of very cheesy exploitation pictures who hasn't had a hit in years and whose marriage has also gone down the tubes who suddenly finds himself energized again when a radical young lesbian presents him with a script which turns out to be a searing indictment of Berlusconi, (well, maybe not that searing). The film is about Bruno's efforts to get the bloody thing made in a conservative Italian film industry scared of its own shadow.

It's at its best in the domestic scenes and not in the film-making parodies, (which already have been done to death), and Moretti shows a real empathy for all concerned. Bruno, in particular, is beautifully played by Silvio Orlando as a basically sad, fat, unattractive little man bemoaning his lot yet finding a kind of redemption by making the one 'serious' film of his career. When finally he is able to finance a punchy film centering on the end of the trial the film-within-the-film shifts up a gear leaving us in no doubt where Moretti's sympathies lie.

Shot with very sharp and uncommon intelligence, Il Caimano mixes surreal fancy together with raw and firm realism. A film that marvels for its equilibrium, that moves you and makes you think. A fearless, experimental, very personal work that potentially might be vastly criticized, far beyond the standards of the average Italian film production in terms of quality, sometimes also very funny, full of quotations by Tarantino or by earlier Italian b-movies, maybe stating that this kind of Italy itself looks like a very ugly b-movie. I'd like that Italian critics would acclaim this great movie, but I doubt it will be like this: most probably, it will be fully appreciated abroad. It might be Nanni Moretti's masterpiece. And Silvio Orlando's acting is great. Thank you, Nanni.

I'd been looking forward to seeing this movie for so long I was bound to be slightly disappointed. And indeed I was. But I loved parts of it all the same. Silvio Orlando's performance as a bankrupt producer, for one, was magnificent. I thought his three or four minutes in "Aprile" were the highlight of that movie, and in "The Son's Room" he practically stole the show. So I was delighted to see Moretti giving him a leading role. Throughout the movie, you can see on his face the effect of the blows and of the suffering that have been his lot, but despite it all he's good-hearted and optimistic and enthusiastic about his work. The depiction of his growing friendship with the young director played by Trinca is also moving and natural.

And while our Italian friends may be known worldwide for their cultivation of "il dolce farniente," "Il caimano" happens to be a celebration of the joys of work. Some of its finest scenes are simply depictions of Orlando's producer talking to the people he needs to talk to get his movie made. In "The Son's Room," too, some of the best scenes involved Moretti's therapist at work, talking to his patients (one of them played by Silvio Orlando, as it happens). And now that I think about it, some of the Italian books I've been reading lately (by Primo Levi and Laura Grimaldi) also celebrate work. Strange. And here I was thinking that the only people who loved work in Europe were the Germans ("Arbeit macht frei" and all that).

Mindful of the gruesome fate of the critic in the B-movie excerpt shown at the beginning of "The Crocodile," I'll remain silent, for the most part, about the things I didn't like as much. But I still can't help wondering why our Italian friends throw such hissy fits about this former prime minister of theirs. Did his companies launder millions in ill-gotten gains? Did he corrupt the judiciary and the police and muzzle his critics? Did he make a whole generation of Italians cynics? Who cares! That's what politicians are supposed to do, isn't it? At least his government had the guts to ban smoking in bars and restaurants, and for that alone he can steal all the millions he wants!