Fellini's Nights of Cabiria on Netflix Instant Watch

Do you have Netflix? If so, jump at the opportunity to see Federico Fellini's masterpiece, Nights of Cabiria, with his wife Giulietta Masina, who also starred with Anthony Quinn in the director's better-known La Strada. Better-known, but not better.

The work is not what we consider Felliniesque, which is why I like it. It goes back to Fellini's neo-Realist roots. If you watch it to practice your Italian, be aware that most dialogue is in Roman dialect (Pier Paolo Pasolini contributed to this). Find out more about the film at the Imdb site.

If you don't have a Netflix subscription, you can have a free one-month trial, no strings attached. Afterwards, the standard subscription is about ten dollars, which includes two DVDs a week and unlimited Instant Watch movies. There are many Italian films available.

(In the photo, Federico and Giulietta in their younger days)

Colin Firth speaks Italian

British actor Colin Firth is quite the man now, what with his Oscar nomination for The King's Speech. In it he plays King George VI (father of Queen Elizabeth II) who overcame a speech defect to become leader of his country during the war; with Churchill, of course.

But the real life Colin has no such linguistic problems. Listen to him speak Italian fluently in this interview, complete with hand gestures, as if he were a real italiano. He speaks with a distinct British accent- that isn't too heavy, though. While fluent, his fluency is much less than his fluency in English, and he makes the usual small mistakes of many foreign speakers (wrong gender agreement, wrong prepositions). All in all, his Italian is more than adequate. The talented (and cute) actor has been married a good many years to a lovely Italian woman, Livia.

Scorsese, My Voyage to Italy-review

The other day was so damn cold that I decided not to budge from home. Fortunately, I had the two discs of Martin Scorsese's My Voyage to Italy on hand, so I settled in for the afternoon and watched all five hours.

This is a documentary the director made about his personal experience with classic Italian film (he goes no further than 1963), starting as a young Italian-American in New York. He goes into depth about Rossellini, De Sica, Visconti, Fellini and Antonioni. The commented scenes for the chosen movies are extensive. For the novice who has not seen these classics, there will be a problem with spoilers- you will know the plot and the ending of each film. If avoiding spoilers is important to you (it is to me), you should not watch this.

I would of course hesitate to challenge Scorsese in his assessment of technical prowess in filmmaking. But I was irritated by what I saw as an inexplicable overestimation of Roberto Rossellini, complete with a tone of breathless veneration when discussing his colleague. And his idea that neo-Realism was the "truth" is greatly misguided. Rossellini had an axe to grind, and how, as I've already stated in my review of Paisa'. Quite simply, the Roman director's view of Italy and the Italians in World War II misrepresents their role and shows it in a distorted light, flattering to his compatriots. It's almost as if the actions of the Allies were incidental, and the Italians liberated themselves by themselves. Not to mention the implicit idea that they had little or no responsibility to begin with. Lots of Italians still believe this, to this day. I was surprised that Scorsese fell for it.

Just when you thought that he had stopped with the Rossellini, he pops up again, with two works, Stromboli and A Voyage to Italy, both of which I have seen, and both of which I can do without. To bolster what he knows will be a minority opinion regarding the latter, he says that umpteen French directors and critics believed that the film was one of the best in film history. The French also think Jerry Lewis is a genius.

The disproportionate amount of time dedicated to RR could have been used to present directors such as Pasolini and Olmi. Generally, besides fleeting mentions, the five hours only cover the Big Five mentioned above. A major shortcoming. Italian filmdom is much bigger and complex than that.

So. The over-long documentary will be of interest primarily to those who admire Scorsese and want his own personal take on the Italian classics. I did not think that Scorsese shone as a film critic e.g. the comments on the notoriously difficult Antonioni were mediocre. Those who have not seen the major classics and do not want their viewing influenced by the director's opinions (and giving away of plot) can pass on this.

(In the photo, the little co-protagonist of The Bicycle Thief, who should have won an Oscar)

Omerta'- not just Italian

A few nights ago I watched Marked woman (1937), which I think illustrates more than many better-known Mafia movies the mechanisms of organized crime and why it flourishes and persists. It is based on the arrest and trial of Lucky Luciano, a Sicilian-born New York mafioso who was instrumental in establishing Cosa Nostra in America.

Significantly, I was watching the rather obscure film just as a major round-up was made on the New York mob. Which was seen (and is) a major accomplishment. But also indicates that organized crime is still very much with us.

The stubborn survival and pervasive influence of organized crime can only be traced to omerta', often incorrectly (or rather, incompletely) defined as the Mafia's code of silence. It goes without saying that if you're a criminal you're going to be quiet- you're doing something illegal. The omerta' that keeps crime and other forms of evil going is the silence of others, as stirringly presented by a young and handsome Bogie in his closing argument. He refers to a "supine and cowardly city" that expresses outrage at corruption but will do nothing to fight it. Placing the burden on the shoulders of the few witnesses who will come forward- in this case, an unlikely group of night club prostitutes, headed by Bette Davis.

Highly recommended. Watch out for the subtle but menacing performance of Eduardo Ciannelli as the villainous Vanning, and his psychologically convincing explanation that his real motive all along was not money but power- "I like to tell people what to do."

Roeg, Don't look now

If you've never seen this, a warning. Avoid reading anything else about it before you do see it (and you should), because many people (including critic Roger Ebert) just can't avoid spoilers. You want to maintain a rational, objective, unbiased state of mind. Just like our protagonist, Donald Sutherland.

But the real protagonist of the movie is Venice, as it should be. And particularly, Venice in the late fall/winter. If you've never been there, this will be a fine introduction, better than most travelogues. It brought me back to the Venice I first knew back in the early Seventies, which is when the film was shot.

Our film (based on a story by Daphne Du Maurier, who also wrote Rebecca and The Birds) concerns a loving married couple, Sutherland and Julie Christie, who lose their little daughter and are traumatized by the event. Sutherland plays a restoration specialist, and they subsequently go to Venice, where he is involved with the restoration of San Nicolo' dei Mendicoli (in the photo). This is a realistic touch, as the charity Venice in Peril really did restore the church (located in a far-flung area in Dorsoduro) in the Seventies. Christie (never more beautiful) meets two elderly British sisters, one of whom is blind and claims to be psychic. The blind woman speaks convincingly of the recently drowned daughter and claims that Sutherland himself is now in danger. But the rationalist Sutherland scoffs at all this. But then all sorts of things start to happen. Concluding in one of the more startling and effective endings I've seen.

The movie has fine direction by Brit Roeg (it was an Anglo-Italian production) whose early background in cinematography is put to good use. Keep an eye on the trail of red throughout the movie, from beginning to end, as if something implicit and ever-present were to become manifest. Fine acting all around, with a minor role by former Italian cinema heartthrob Massimo Serato as the bishop, still handsome at 57. And there's a wonderful love scene toward the beginning, expressive of the joy and satisfaction of a good relationship, as it skillfully entwines superior lovemaking takes with the couple's preparations to go out to dinner.

The movie is not about psychics and whether to believe them or not (I don't). It is about the fundamentally incomprehensible and mysterious nature of life, and the dangers that inhere in forgetting this. It will provoke thought about Venice and its attractions and symbolism, faith, rationality, hope, despair, death and love. A must see.

Dino De Laurentiis has died

One of the greatest producers in film history died yesterday at the age of 91. The word "amazing" is overused and abused nowadays, but Dino De Laurentiis was the real thing. Born in humble Torre Annunziata, near Naples and within sight of Mount Vesuvius, he made a professional and personal life for himself that was legendary. He participated in the birth and heydey of Italian cinema, with his signature mix of high and lowbrow entertainment and everything in between. Highlights of his Italian career were Fellini's La Strada and the excellent Nights of Cabiria.

When things were no longer to his liking careerwise in Italy, he had the gumption to move to the United States in 1972, at the age of 53, knowing little or no English. From there he produced films that were very different from his Italian movies (and very different from each other): from Serpico to Conan the Barbarian.

He also lived intensely in his private life, with a marriage to famed actress Silvana Mangano, a late-life (71) remarriage to producer Martha Schumacher, and various kids and grandkids, including well-known nipotina Giada De Laurentiis, the successful chef and TV personality.

The clip is taken from Steno's 1954 Un americano a Roma, in which wannabe American Alberto Sordi tries to replace red wine and spaghetti with milk and some made-up Yankee dish. He quickly gives in to the call of the spaghetti, which must have amused De Laurentiis, the son of pasta-makers.

For more on this little dynamo, see his Imdb entry (includes complete filmography).

Word of the week-avventura

Today's New York Times spotlights Michelangelo Antonioni's L'Avventura (1960) as part of its Critics' Pick series. And deservedly so, as the great film foreshadows the central crisis of our time, the disappearance of meaning and its consequences on human relations. Ironically, I also read a few minutes earlier in La Repubblica that Italians are the world champs in Facebook use, beating us (Americans) out. I hope you see the connection.

The word avventura is central to the interpretation of the film. It is a partial false friend: its primary meaning is in fact equivalent to the English "adventure," which would perhaps describe the protagonists' attempts to find their lost friend. But it also means "fling" or "passing, insignificant affair." Of the type that men often invoke when they're caught by their wives and swear "she didn't mean a thing to me!" Toward the end of the work, the male protagonist matter-of-factly informs the female protagonist that what they shared was an avventura. To her great dismay. I heartily recommend a viewing (or a second viewing, or a third...) of this masterpiece, although it's no crowd pleaser.

(in the photo, Gabriele Ferzetti and Monica Vitti)

An Italian looks at WWII

Have you ever heard the expression "I can't say enough about x person or x thing"? Well, this is a case in point. Except that I can't say enough bad things about Roberto Rossellini's Paisa'.

The movie is part of a three-film Criterion collection, called The War Trilogy, somewhat pretentiously. The two other films are Rome: Open City and Germany, Year Zero. Both of which I had already seen. So I saw Paisa' last night, and I'm still angry. Seldom have I witnessed such bad faith in cinema, a medium I love and consider an art to all effects.

The film is a neo-Realist treatment of the Allies' advance up the Italian peninsula, from debarking in Sicily in 1943, on through Rome and central Italy, ending up along the Po river in the North. One word describes it all: anti-Americanism. With a dash of anti-British sentiment for good measure- to the extent that he considers the British at all, almost as if they had nothing to do with the liberation of Italy, as opposed to the uniformly heroic/modest/effective/salt of the earth partisans.

The story is told in six episodes. In two of the six episodes, one third of the movie, there are two GI protagonists who are so drunk that they literally fail to recognize Italians they previously had extensive dealings with. Besides drunkenness, the GIs are ungrateful to the helpful and cooperative populace (what happened to all the Fascists?) as in episode I, prejudiced and dismissive (calling the Italians Eye-ties and Paisan), corrupters of women (in six months, Roman women go from being sweet and innocent to being seasoned whores), coarse, loutish, and none too bright.

The only American who is positively portrayed is a Catholic chaplain who is being hosted in a monastery, where the monks are in crisis about the presence of two heathens in their midst, namely, a Protestant and a Jew. Especially (you guessed it) the Jew. The good(?) brothers decide to fast at their common meal for the salvation of the souls of the two heathens. The finale of the episode, which left me incredulous, has the Chaplain thanking the brothers for their lessons in serenity and peace and all that good stuff. Hell, I could be serene and peaceful if I lived in a monastery, too. How convenient for a bunch of males to live in a monastery in times of war. And how absolutely distasteful that Rossellini presents these anti-Semitic monks (and by extension, the Catholic Church) in an angelic light, exactly one year after Nazi-Fascism practically destroyed European Jewry. With the non-intervention of Pope Pius XII.

And what did the Brits do as the battle was raging? According to the middle episode, they sat on a hill with their binoculars observing Florence from a distance and chatting about its monuments in a snotty voice, as if they were tourists, while the Fascists and heroic partisans fought it out. Read: it was really the partisans who liberated Italy. Many, many Italians still believe this pathetic lie to this day.

And as if that slap in the face to perfidious Albion wasn't enough, a later episode has an American OSS man bark: "these people [the Italians] aren't fighting to defend the British Empire, they're fighting for their lives." Yes, folks, the Brits fought WWII as an imperialist war to defend their empire. And they never had to fight for their lives. Unless we wish to remember Hitler's Blitz in 1940-1941, when the Italians were still squarely behind Il Duce because they thought he might still win. Oh, and while we're at it, have we forgotten Mussolini and his (attempts at) empire and war-mongering? And make no mistake: most Italians were solidly behind Mussolini, just as most Germans were behind Hitler, his ally.

After I saw this incredibly dishonest and opportunistic film, which attempts to suck in spectators by its pseudo-realism and sentimentality, I looked at the director's bio. How did he get started in film? Why, he was a friend of Mussolini's son, Vittorio Mussolini. And he made Fascist propaganda movies. Plus ca change, Roberto.

(In the photo, a dumb, drunken, selfish, big GI with a clever, sober and noble little Italian)

Iabba Dabba Du! Buon Compleanno, Antenati!

One of the joys of my childhood was The Flintstones. Google's doodle today reminds us of an important event- the fiftieth anniversary of Fred, Wilma, Barney, Betty, Bam Bam and Pebbles. Oh, and Dino.

Like almost everything else America has come up with, the Italians have adopted this cartoon prehistoric family, which they usually call "Gli antenati" (the ancestors.) However, when I moved to Italy in 1962 I underwent abrupt withdrawal from my Bedrock habit. At the time, Italy only had two TV stations, RAI 1 and RAI 2, both state-controlled. There was limited programming beginning only in the afternoon, with children's shows- "La TV dei Ragazzi." Along with being in Italian school and my little next-door neighbor Anna Maria Tartaruga (wonder where she is now?), this is how I learned Italian. The Flintstones and a slew of other American programming came to the Italians by the late 70's, courtesy of Mr. Silvio Berlusconi, and his private TV's. A lot of the hostility of the Italian Left to Berlusconi comes from his perceived role in the (further) Americanization of Italy.

(in the clip, Fred sounding like Fred, but Wilma not sounding like Wilma)

Marco Bellocchio-Vincere

I just saw Marco Bellocchio's recent film, Vincere, and I think it is the best movie to come out of Italy in memory. Or at least my memory. Not that he has a lot of competition.

It just became available on Netflix Instant Watch today, and has only strengthened my regard for ole Marco, a youthful septuagenarian who started making waves in the Sixties. And has never really stopped.

The ironic title means "winning" in Italian, and is a sort of Tom Stoppard-like view of Mussolini, in the sense that it is the tale of Mussolini and Fascism as seen through the little-known story of his lover and abandoned (alleged) first wife, Ida Dalser. In the film, Ida (played by Giovanna Mezzogiorno, as lovely as she is talented) not only secretly marries the Duce, but bears him a son, also called Benito. Both Ida and later her son are then persecuted, labelled as insane, and eventually die an untimely death in asylums.

Based on a true story, Bellocchio obviously espouses the truthfulness of Ida's claims- the young "illegitimate" Benito looks just like his dad. Not only that, but in an original twist, the director no longer shows the original actor playing Mussolini when he comes to power- replaced by footage of Mussolini himself. Except that the actor playing Mussolini reappears as Ida's son Benito as a young adult.

Bellocchio shows his roots in the Left of the Sixties and Seventies and one of its slogans: "the personal is political." The ruthless opportunism and disloyalty in the future dictator's personal affairs is reflected later in his political behavior. That Mussolini was indeed capable of such hypocrisy and heartlessness is shown by his record of later adulteries, including his death with his faithful mistress, Claretta Petacci. His wife Rachele escaped and survived. Shortly before the end, he did not hesitate to have his son-in-law Gian Galeazzo Ciano shot.

Thus, Bellocchio aims straight at so many enduring faults of Italian society. The tolerance of sexism and male adultery. The complicity and ambivalence of the Catholic Church. Extremism and political opportunism.

He even aims at himself, in a way. Throughout the film, the burgeoning role of the cinema is present as a counterpoint of reality (including Chaplin and The Kid!). If this work is primarily an examination of truth versus power, as I think it is, Bellocchio invites us to ponder on the insidious role of his own art as a possible ally to unreality and illusion.

Finally, something that I think has been neglected in the understanding of Nazifascism. That is, people's own responsibility in not identifying who is really deranged and dangerous- how could masses of people in Germany and Italy not have seen and heard that Hitler and Mussolini were crazy? This is brought out forcefully by the masterful caricature of the actor Filippo Timi as the now-adult alleged son Benito imitating the bizarre speeches of his alleged father Benito.

Check it out. While you're at it, have your own little Bellocchio Festival with his old movies- you'll learn a lot about Italy. Maybe more than you want to know.

(Inset, director Marco Bellocchio)

Viva la pappa col pomodoro!

Incredible to me that although I've had this blog for almost three years, I have yet to feature Rita Pavone, one of the delights of my childhood. When I got to Italy as a little kid in 1962, she was just coming onto the scene, with enormous (and justified success.) The petite redhead, who was still a teen, was nothing short of phenomenal: personality, talent, and a voice bigger than she was.

The clip is from the TV series adaptation of the story of Gian Burrasca (Stormy Jack), the supposed diary of a mischievous boy in an oppressive boarding school (apparently the Italian grandpa of Harry Potter.) In the song, Gianni is rebelling against the poor school food, and singing the praises of la pappa col pomodoro. Surprisingly, the show was directed by famed filmmaker Lina Wertmuller, who later went on to make some very different sorts of things- to put it mildly. Although it may not be so surprising, as Lina was herself a little hell-raiser who got repeatedly expelled from school. And in the seventies, her films reflected the same political and social issues comically addressed in Gian Burrasca. She worked on this along with equally famed composer Nino Rota, who wrote scores for Fellini movies and for the first two films of The Godfather trilogy.

Little did I know when I first heard this song at the age of nine that it was an actual dish, and a yummy one, too. I had very little interest in food at the time, apart from chocolate and Nutella.It's basically a simple bread and tomato soup, which can be eaten warm or cold. The Tuscans will insist that you use Tuscan (unsalted) bread for it, but it's not really necessary. However, don't even think of using soft, commercial bread. There are very many versions, but I'll refer you to the one by the knowledgeable Kyle Phillips, an American who lives in Tuscany. You can find it here.

Lyrics to the song are here.

Luchino Visconti- Le Notti bianche

Last night I watched Le Notti bianche (The White Nights) by famed director Luchino Visconti. Based on a story by Dostoevsky by the same name, which you can read here, it conveys the message that Life Is Disappointing and Love Is Fleeting. Which is not surprising, considering its source.

But amidst the generally dissatisfying nature of our existence, some moments of real joy and exhilaration pop up. These are expressed skillfully by the above scene, conveying both the advanced Americanization of Italy in 1957 and some unsuspected goofiness from the ever-gorgeous Marcello Mastroianni.

The film is not a crowd pleaser, but I found it well worth watching. Its background was a carefully-constructed set reproducing (of all places) Livorno, and not Venice as some may suspect, because of the canals and little bridges. The movie has been remade several times, most recently as Two Lovers, with Joaquin Phoenix and Gwyneth Paltrow.

Rocco and his brothers

I took my own advice about the availability of most of my Top Ten Italian movies on Netflix Instant Watch and saw Rocco and his brothers again.

I first watched Visconti's most famous movie as an undergraduate many years ago. I must say, that as compared to other top movies I've seen again, it hasn't held up as well. But it's still a major, major achievement. And any excuse is good to see Alain Delon (Rocco, to the right in the photo) in his youthful splendor. Co-star Renato Salvatori also does a damn good job.

The 1960 movie (long) deals with five brothers who come up from Southern Italy (Basilicata/Lucania) with their mother as internal "immigrants" to Milan, trying to escape the dire poverty of the South. It is a sympathetic treatment of the immigration question, and the five brothers illustrate the spectrum of reactions one can take to the difficulties of displacement, discrimination, alienation, exploitation, and assimilation (lots of -tion nouns, I know.) One of them turns to crime and ultimately murder.

The finale shows the brothers conflicted about turning in the bad apple. One of them finally decides to, thus breaking what has been called "amoral familism" and the ruinous practice of omerta'. I believe that Visconti, a Northerner, saw this as a guardedly optimistic sign for the future of Italy and the Southern problem (which still exists, and how). But fifty years later, in 2010, the new immigrants are mostly foreigners- and serious issues are once again raging.

Paolo Villaggio

I just finished watching Battleship Potemkin for the first (and last) time, and was irresistibly reminded of this super-famous scene from the 1976 movie Il Secondo Tragico Fantozzi. In it, first-rate comic actor Paolo Villaggio portrays his persona of an oppressed, submissive bookkeeper who finally, and briefly, rebels.

What causes him to finally blow up is that the company that has long made his life miserable mandates the viewing of the famous Russian propaganda film, because they find it morally and esthetically uplifting. Fantozzi does not. He gets up and in front of fellow employees (and management) yells: "La Corazzata Potemkin e' una cagata pazzesca!" (Battleship Potemkin is an incredible crock of shit!) This is followed by 92 minutes of applause by the captive audience (longer than the film itself). In a parody of the mutiny and uprising of the original, the oppressed workers set fire to the reels, tie up the managers, and force them to watch popular trash movies.

Like all really good comedy, there is a strong vein of truth in the scene. Going against decades of critical opinion of film critics is indeed liberating. But in real life (as opposed to Communist propaganda), the oppressed do not prevail. The scene concludes with the triumph of established order, as the cops come in and release the bosses. Who then force the failed rebels to repeatedly re-enact the Odessa Steps scene as a punishment. With Paolo Villaggio as the baby in the carriage. See it here.

Classic Italian movies on Netflix Instant Watch

This is a great time to watch classic Italian cinema through Netflix Instant Watch. As of today, most of the films listed in my Top Ten Italian movies are now available to watch instantly. The Bicycle Thief at number one has been on Watch Now for some time, but number two Umberto D (also by De Sica) and Pontecorvo's The Battle of Algiers just made the list today. I strongly recommend this trio. For those of you watching movies to practice your Italian: The Battle of Algiers is not in Italian (it's in French and Arabic). But it is a stunning masterpiece, technical and otherwise, of great relevance to the current questions of terrorism and the Muslim world.

If you don't have Netflix yet, it's easy to get a free trial. But finding out what is on Instant Watch, and when, is not so easy from the Netflix site alone. It's as if they didn't want you to know all of their offerings. Cool independent sites go to fill this gap, including Instant Watcher and Streaming Soon.

The video shows the trailer of The Battle of Algiers, with a memorable (as usual) score by Ennio Morricone (along with Pontecorvo himself.)

Update- several hours after writing this I remembered my numerous readers from outside the US (over half of you). I apologize profusely for not addressing the question of whether you can get Netflix streaming outside the United States, and humbly admit to being an arrogant imperialistic eggplant.

The answer for now seems to be "no" (at least legally). Even if you should want to (ahem) borrow an American's account and password, they would probably call your bluff due to your IP address. Netflix didn't get to be big and successful by being stupid. However, reputable sources within the company have spoken of an expansion of streaming in 2010, including the possibility of streaming abroad.

The Dollars trilogy free on YouTube

Some of you may already know that YouTube is now showing full-length movies. Right now and until the end of the month they will feature the famed Dollars Trilogy of Sergio Leone/Clint Eastwood films: A Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.

Sergio reportedly pissed Clint off by casting aspersions on his acting range, remarking that he had two expressions: with and without a hat. It makes sense when you think about it. Clint's squint would be worse without the hat, because of the sun.

Highly recommended, although you may have technical glitches, and there are a few commercial interruptions. If you are looking to watch them to practice your Italian, don't bother- they're in English (with a bit of Spanish thrown in).

Sorrentino, Il Divo

Feeling lazy, so I'll just copy and paste my own Netflix review of the movie, which is not recommended. At all.

Will somebody please tell me what the hell is wrong with contemporary Italian cinema? How come the Danes and the Koreans are making better movies than the Italians? When I think of The Bicycle Thief or Umberto D and then I see things like this I just want to break down and cry. What is bizarre (among many other things) is that the subject matter is eminently compelling: the life and times of Giulio Andreotti, by far the most important politician in Italy in the post-War period. His story is essential to understanding Italy as it really is. Some reviewers here have charitably suggested that one would benefit from a background knowledge of the matter. Not so. I know all about this stuff (unfortunately). This movie is a mess. Or if I may paraphrase the title of one of Ebert's books: Sorrentino, your movie sucks. I gave it two stars only because of the undoubted technical proficiency in filmmaking. The exact opposite of the neo-Realists. They made great films with small means. Sorrentino has made a small film with great means.

Mozzarella in carrozza

There is nothing in life that can't be solved with good food and a bottle of wine. Or at least the Italians think so, as you can see in this memorable scene from The Bicycle Thief, one of my favorites. In this case, the food in question is mozzarella in carrozza, or mozzarella in a carriage- the inspiration for the popular mozzarella sticks. I used to have it as a child in Naples, so I'm giving the version I had there, which has a savoriness to counteract the blandness of the bread and cheese.

12 slices fresh bread

1 large fresh mozzarella ball (Belgioioso is good)

2 eggs

6 anchovy fillets

Bread crumbs

Pinch of oregano

Oil (olive oil is optional)

Cut off crusts from bread, cut mozzarella in slices that are somewhat smaller than bread slices. Drain cheese slices on paper towel; they must not be watery. Place cheese slices on bread, place anchovies and oregano on cheese, top with another slice of bread. Carefully seal borders of bread slices. Beat eggs with some salt, dip slices thoroughly in egg, coat with bread crumbs. Fry in small batches in hot oil, keep warm. Eat promptly to avoid hardened mozzarella.

Everyone's a (movie) critic

Everyone's a movie critic, including me.

If you want to see more of my stuff (I can't really call them reviews) on movies, you can go to the Netflix site (only if you're a member). Hmmm. How to access my posts? OK, go to what is probably my best-received critique, on Nanni Moretti's Caro Diario. It should be among the first user reviews, under Smiling Eggplant (doh!). From there, you can find the others by clicking on see "smiling eggplant's other reviews."

There are about fifty posts, as of this writing. Not all are about Italian-related films, but many are. Including my trashing of Pasolini's Teorema, and various other reviews about him (squinting, in photo). Usually more positive.

Dino Risi and Son

Last year the great director Dino Risi died, and I didn't give him an obit, as I did for my beloved Bergman in 2007 (despite the fact that Ingmar came from the opposite end of Europe and strictly speaking had no business on this Eye-talian blog).

But recently I've gone back and looked at numerous Youtube clips of his. In particular, from his fabulous I Mostri, a 1963 episode film illustrating the "monstrous" inhabitants of Italy. Although I suggest that you watch as many of these as you can on Youtube, the one above struck me in particular because of its incredible timeliness. It's called "The Opiate of the People," Marx's famous reference to religion as a drug- but it refers to TV. We have excellent Ugo Tognazzi playing a stuporous husband, who despite the Italian male's hatred of being considered a cornuto (literally, "horned," cuckolded, cheated on) lets his beautiful young wife play him for a fool right in his own home. He's under the influence (of TV) and oblivious to everything else. Since then, the role of TV-as-drug has only gained power. But Risi was a genius to see this before anyone else, when the objective presence of television in Italian life was very limited.

Risi's son Marco has also followed his famous dad as a director. He has made numerous films about the many ills of the country, including his latest, Fortapasc, about a young journalist killed in 1985 because he was investigating the Camorra. Unfortunately, his movies are not widely available in the US. Marco Risi's website is here.