La fine del mondo nel nostro solito letto in una notte piena di pioggia
When Warner Brothers finally gives you a four-picture deal, you decide that the first of them (which would also turn out to be the last of them) should be about a relationship between a somewhat lost, layabout Italian communist and a slightly feminist American photographer: Wertmüller had real balls.
Looking back on this from a distance of forty-five years (writing in 2023), the film seems to occupy and embody some kind of midway point between May ’68 and the fall of the Wall: revolutionary hopes have already been dashed, what’s coming to replace them seems to hold little promise, confusion and disappointment reign, in short, an age of disorientation – at one point, Giancarlo Giannini’s character even says that time is out of joint. To some extent, one can understand the negative reviews – these kind of “international” films hardly ever fully work – but the filmmaker really tries to enter political and sexual territory that is almost totally avoided, and there are some beautiful scenes. Just one example: the short interlude with the writer and translator Paola Ojetti, filmed shortly prior to her death, playing Giannini’s aunt. A deeply melancholy film, and, it seems to me, one that contains much more significance than was recognised at the time.
Looking back on this from a distance of forty-five years (writing in 2023), the film seems to occupy and embody some kind of midway point between May ’68 and the fall of the Wall: revolutionary hopes have already been dashed, what’s coming to replace them seems to hold little promise, confusion and disappointment reign, in short, an age of disorientation – at one point, Giancarlo Giannini’s character even says that time is out of joint. To some extent, one can understand the negative reviews – these kind of “international” films hardly ever fully work – but the filmmaker really tries to enter political and sexual territory that is almost totally avoided, and there are some beautiful scenes. Just one example: the short interlude with the writer and translator Paola Ojetti, filmed shortly prior to her death, playing Giannini’s aunt. A deeply melancholy film, and, it seems to me, one that contains much more significance than was recognised at the time.
Mini Review: When Warner finally gives you a four-pic deal, you decide that the first one should be about a layabout Italian communist and a feminist American: Wertmüller had real balls. Embodies some kind of midway point between May ’68 and the fall of the Wall: revolutionary hopes already dashed, disorientation reigns – Giannini’s character says that time is out of joint. This really tries to enter unusual political and sexual territory and there are some beautiful scenes – e.g. the one with Paola Ojetti.
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