Pietro Marcello made an imperfect, tortured and boring but altogether wonderful movie by a literal--to the degree I can judge from the synopsis of the book I had never bothered to read--rendering of early 20 century novel and transmitting its imagery in Italy, which has historical references to pre-WWI and pre-WWII world but with late 1940s or 1960-1970s car makes. Even the itinerant worker dressed as if he comes from the posh ready-to-wear stores in Milano is endearing. Nobody during, probably, a few decades of the movie story (several novels by the protagonist come in the interim) ages. How the story so anchored in the literary and social world of the late 19-early 20 century--socialism vs. anarchism, publishing houses as the towering pinnacles of public opinion, capitalists on the forefront of liberal reformism, war as "hygiene of society" borrowing Marinetti's expression, etc.--can touch us in the firth quarter of 21 century is a complete mystery but Marcello succeeded in pulling it off. The novel is semi-autobiographical and the actor playing protagonist has a definite likeness with Jack London but not so much as making it disturbing. No main character is played very well. Martin Eden and Elena Orsini are more of schematic cutouts than real people. Real depth of character belongs to Carlo Cecchi (Russ Brissenden) and barely touched Denise Sardisco (Margherita), Elisabetta Valgoi (Matilde Orsini), Autilia Ranieri (Guilia Eden) and Carmel Pomella (Maria Silvia). Acting predominance of the supporting cast is against all cinematic conventions but it adds to the movie's charm.
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