Storie di ordinaria follia

I don't care much for Bukowski. All that romanticizing of depravity just seems like an attempt to excuse his misogyny, laziness, alcoholism, cruelty and vulgarity. Ferreri doesn't bring anything very interesting to the material, and basically leaves Gazzara to stumble around and wax poetic about death, souls, and dying souls. There's some hilariously bad lines that I assume come from the author himself. Gazzara is very good, though, except his boyish face has a tendency to look too smug.

Ben Gazzara recites and plays Bukowski -- that is enough to make me like this film, and he does an excellent job portraying the main man, replicating his characteristics very closely. This is a collection of Bukowski's short stories rendered through a feature-length narrative, and it feels very true to the author's mood and style. Not all of the stories are as good as each other, but if you're a fan of Buk you're bound to be a fan of this film.

It's a shame this isn't better than it is, because Ben Gazzara is an excellent actor who looks like and portrays Bukowski better than any other actor to have done so. Unfortunately the film is kind of a meandering mess that even Bukowski was apparently unimpressed with.

The plot has no dept and the acting is quite bad. Ornella is the best that this movie can offer, but she has better movies.

Gazzara is, I suppose, a better Buk than Dillon or Rourke, although Rourke was better at being a waster by far. This is a curiously interesting film that has bits that feel out of place with the subject matter (Ornella Muti, what the fuck?). More sleazy shenanigans would've been excellent, but it's still a good film.

Interesting Bukowski adaptation. Gazzara is great, and Ornella Muta is gorgeous as always.

A meandering story of a low life booze hound poet getting drunk and chasing women. There are many bizarre scenes and some nudity. The blonde was ugly and ridiculous. The whore was an especially unconvincing role, but she had a cute butt. He is basically a degenerate and a drunk. His poetry is nonsensical and uninteresting. The story is pointless and hollow. I was tired of the voice over as soon as it started, and I never saw the charm they so tried to display in him. Barely worth watching.

The best Bukowski film I know, because it gets his tone right and doesn't boast with the depravity. It rather strings together pointless incidents of boozing, stumbling, fucking, and self-harm, all under the cruel light of a sad, wind-blown Los Angeles. Especially the contrast with the sickening offices of the publishing company show that Bukowski's drunken life must have felt both hellish and heavenly to him. It was his art, his only refuge.