Spotlight: Francesco Rosi’s 'Christ Stopped at Eboli’
Christ Stopped at Eboli (1979)
PG-13
A remarkable 4.5 out of 5
(Announcement: With this review, I’ll be commencing my Spotlight series, where I will shed some new light on works from the more unexplored sides of cinema, as well some of your longtime favorites. Dedicated to my Nonna who has always fueled my addiction for film, and made me better for it. Enjoy!)
Throughout the history of cinema, countless filmmakers have carried a vast array of visions for their work, and goals to meet the pleasant eyes of the audience. Not only do artists focus on the instant quality and reception of their toiled labors, but (of course) they look down the line, for many more years to come, and only hope it will continue to imprint, as well as gracefully age with time. And as for this film, the crisp, sometimes humorous, and closeup view of an unfamiliar Italy in the early 40s, leans nicely towards an optimism, while still dipping into some rather tragic themes. I’m running on now; without further adieu, a look at Francesco Rosi’s 1979 cinematic adaption of the biography, Christ Stopped at Eboli.
We begin this story, following our main character, Italian political activist Carlo Levi (Gian Maria Volontè), where he has recently been sentenced to exile for his blasphemous judgements against the fascist viewpoints of their leader, Benito Mussolini. He is escorted to a small mountain village in the province of Eboli, Salerno, where an assortment of other political criminals, as well as where the local peasants live in unfortunate residence.
It is a beautiful place of history, with indescribable views it seems where painted by the hand of God itself. But as for the denizens, it appears a little more acclimation is needed for Carlo. The days of small town gossip, war speculation, and tall tales, stretch into months of the same old routine.
But in a strange event of captivity, greatly (and somewhat ironically) diverging from the free scapes portrayed in their surroundings, we watch as Carlo slowly begins to embrace a life of family and art amidst a world where common poverty is ignored by the leaders of their country. This is the story of a man who, rejected for his voice in an unstable world, went on to find another form of expression, which, ultimately, gave him, and those around him, an essential hope and new meaning in life.
Now abandoned, the beautiful town of Craco, one of more notable filming locations, stills graces and haunts the hillsides of Basilicata.
This film intimately portrayed a (almost point-of-view) reality I was not really aware of until watching (you hear of WWII, but between the Axis and Allies, Italy is probably the obscure of the nations to me). Both the difficulties and unique joys experienced by the many characters in this story are nicely depicted through immersive and lifelike cinematography, capturing a series of vivid impressions in a, including stunning views and ruins, ancient culture, and, of course, a charming people (hat-tip to the amazing cinematographer, Pasqualino De Santis). Volontè (Carlo) gave a very heartfelt performance, and strangely delivered no less intensity with his commanding personality. His character was built with a strong moral compass, and showed his unwavering dedication, even amongst the villagers, who likewise trusted and held “Don Carlo” in the highest of places in their humble community (a likable and influential human being). Among the rest of the cast, faint talents (whether known or not) including Irene Papas, and Paolo Bonicelli, also contributed some fine acting to the scene.
An uneasy sense of arrested development seats itself within this slow moving movie, that could drive even the most steadfast of character to close madness. This pertains not only to the storyline’s relaxed progression, but also to the picture as a whole. The runtime for this film nears 4 hours, and is told in four, 1 hour partitions. for “easier” watchability.
I find myself reasonably blind to a film’s runtime as long as it fully engages me for the given time (obviously. And I would refer the recent Avengers: Infinity War as an example, but it’s not really comparable, if you know what I mean). It moved relatively steadily, with no real peaks of thrill, but it did impart a sincere message and many visuals I feel, overall, are vital in a thorough education of cinema.
It’s amazing to see movies from, say, 60 years ago (not this one), contrasted to the products of present day. Each era, without a doubt, carries their fair share of both winners and flops, but I notice that films of the older days had a certain consecutive caliber of excellence (if you will) that matched no succeeding time. Just a thought. It pokes me that I’m not able to specify if [Christ Stopped at Eboli] plays any role of significance in Italian culture. NOTE TO SELF: Start digging more into that good history
Anyway, I think Rosi brilliantly, and subtly, brought this touching story to fruition by looking at our similarities rather than our differences. The Second World War brought on so much violence, chaos, and distrust around the globe, among many other devastations, and to instead look at the quiet and sincere sides of this time was really comforting, and interesting to watch play out. I recommend a watch if the chance arises, but as I mentioned before, it is a pretty long movie, so be make sure to plan this “event”, rather, accordingly. The plane of foreign cinema (last time I’ll use the sole word) is one that should be further explored and absorbed (on my part especially), and with the watching of this soft-spoken gem, I’ll begin step with my right foot forward in this intimidating direction.
I hope you all enjoyed this review, and for any questions or inquiries, contact me at contact@luminaryview.com. I’m still working on setting up a newsletter as well. Thanks all, and have a great week. Cheers!
