(Bella Italia: The Movie)
CAST: Philippe Noiret, Massimo Troisi, Maria Grazia Cuccinota, Anna Bonaiuto, Linda Moretti.
DIRECTOR: Michael Radford.
WARNING: Some SPOILERS and Mediterranean Romances (and Bromances) straight ahead.
Anyone who knows me or follows this blog knows that I simply love Italy. As I wrote in our review for BIG NIGHT (review # 104), I think of my life in two distinct phases: pre- and post-Italy. What I took away from living in Bella Italia for a total of 3.5 years is to cultivate an appreciation of the simple things that is almost Zen-like: the way the sun hits the side of a building like a splash of gold, or the way pasta arrabiata ignites in your mouth - then recedes - then ignites again, or how saltwater cakes on someone’s skin after a day of kayaking on Capri - and how it flakes off when you hug each other and roll in the sand reenacting that beach scene between Rachel Ward and Jeff Bridges from AGAINST ALL ODDS. Okay... maybe I should have left that last part out because it's kind of, well, gay.
Whatever. Bottom line: the Italians have perfected the art of sensuality, whether it be through action, gestures, or words. This last bit in particular is absolutely true. There is no more beautiful language in the world than Italian. Tell someone in Italian that you think they’re a colossal piece of shit, and it’ll sound to the untrained ear like you wanted to give them a “Happy Ending” massage. And if you actually told someone in Italian that you’d like to give them a “Happy Ending” massage, it’ll likely sound like the Marriage Proposal To End All Marriage Proposals.” That’s how lovely the Italian language is.
Italy’s language and the words that form it are at the core of our next review, the enchanting romance IL POSTINO, which translates to “The Postman.” This is because our hero is Mario Ruppoulo (Massimo Troisi), a sweet-natured and shy young man who lives (and loves) on a Southern Italian island in the early-50’s, who eventually ends up becoming one of the place’s postmen. This seems to be the best thing for Massimo, since he doesn’t hold any special regard (or ability) for the local industry, which - big surprise - is fishing. Massimo dreams of joining his cousins in America, but doesn’t have the means to make the jump. Which makes becoming “Il Postino” really the best thing for him.
Fortunately, Massimo’s new vocation is a relatively easy one: he only has one house on his route. But what his one customer lacks in quantity, this person makes up for in quality. You see, Massimo’s sole customer is Pablo Neruda (Philippe Noiret), the real-life Chilean poet who had to go into exile in the early-50’s because of his communist stance. Forced by the Chilean government to leave their homeland, Pablo and his wife, Mathilde (Anna Bonaiuto), pack it up and head to Southern Italy. Which, if you ask me, is more like going on vacation in paradise. But whatevs…
After several weeks of bringing Pablo’s fan mail - which seems to rival Will Smith’s - our humble Mario musters up the courage to try to befriend the famous poet. Which is kind of like the kind of friendship we saw in our recent review of KISS ME, GUIDO (review # 241), only Pablo is not a Greenwich Village gay dude, and Mario is a more rural version of a Guido. Eventually, Pablo shares with our lovable postman the secrets of poetry: metaphors. And how does one come up with metaphors? Well, by observing beauty, of course. And considering Mario lives on a gorgeous island in the middle of the most beautiful country on Earth, that’s going to be like trying to find a skanky ho or two on Hollywood Boulevard.
Pablo gives Mario his first assignment: take a walk on the beach and note all the beautiful things he sees - and turn them into metaphors. But as any writer or artist knows, the best way to be inspired and to come up with artful and vibrant turns-of-phrase is to… fall in love. Sure enough, our lovable postman finds his fancy tickled by the lovely Beatrice Russo (Maria Grazia Cuccinota), a barmaid at the local restaurant who looks like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model fused with a Roman Goddess.
It doesn’t qualify as “Most Unforeseen Plot Twist” of the western world when Mario starts spouting poetry like someone shoved a Metaphor Hose up his ass and turned the nozzle to “full”. Soon, this humble Italian is giving Pablo a run for his money in the poetry department. Will it work? Will Mario’s newfound sensitivity and sensuality win over the aloof Beatrice? Will Pablo’s poetry lessons succeed in bringing the lovebirds together? What happens when Pablo is asked to return to Chile? Will this affect his “Bromance” with Mario? Or will they remain in each others minds and hearts - even across vast distances? Or will their friendship disappear, like tears in the rain? Like a whisper in a crowd? Like a kiss before dying?
And you thought only Chilean Poets and Rural Lovable Guidos could bust out the poetry? Mo-fos, please. Anyway, what do you say we give Pablo a special gift to remember his humble and lovable Italian friend? See below:
BUT, SERIOUSLY: If you were to go by IL POSTINO’s poster and trailers, you’d be forgiven for thinking it yet another in the line of “Sophisticated Person Helps Humble Person Win The Affection Of Aloof Love Interest” flicks. We’ve seen this scenario before with ROXANNE, SECRET ADMIRER, JUST ONE OF THE GUYS, and SOME KIND OF WONDERFUL. With its “World-Famous Poet Helps Sweet Mailman Win The Affection Of Aloof Barmaid” set-up, IL POSTINO seems to be another riff on the formula, albeit an Italy-set one.
But, no. IL POSTINO is not primarily a love story between Mario Ruppuolo, our humble hero, and the object of his unrequited affection, Beatrice. That is secondary. What IL POSTINO is, first and foremost, is an examination of the unlikely friendship between two men who could not seem more different. Pablo Neruda is a real-life figure and world-famous Chilean poet who did go into exile at one point. Mario Ruppuolo, however, is a fictional character. It’s this whimsical attempt to blend fact and fiction that is just one of IL POSTINO’s charms. The film’s major appeal, though, is watching the connection blossom between the erudite Pablo and the simple (but smart in his own way) Mario, and how each transforms the other.
Massimo Troisi is winsome and compelling as the soft-spoken Mario. There is a tentative quality to Troisi’s performance that just wins you over. Not sure if Mario was written this way in the script (or in the original Chilean film, BURNING PATIENCE, of which IL POSTINO is a very worthy remake), or if Troisi chose to interpret the character this way, but the result is a hero who is extremely sympathetic and wins us over with both his humility and quiet passion. Sadly, Troisi was apparently suffering from a heart condition during filming, and had chosen to defer surgery until after production ended. He died less than a day after the film wrapped. IL POSTINO’s end credits are dedicated to him. Watching his performance here, knowing he died immediately afterwards, adds an added layer of poignancy.
As Mario’s unexpected mentor, Philippe Noiret turns in an equally strong and wryly comic performance as the real-life poet Pablo Neruda. I wonder if Neruda actually mentored many young men and women in his time and taught them how to be poets themselves, and if Mario is an amalgam of all of those people? Hard to say. What we can state for certain is that Noiret turns Neruda into a fine, assured counterpoint to Troisi’s more uncertain - but no less intelligent - Mario. They make a wonderful pair. And their “reunion” scene at the end is a heartbreaker. You’ll see.
As for the third major character, Maria Grazia Cuccinota fills in the role of Mario’s love interest Beatrice with a mix of classic Italian sexiness and girlish innocence. The scene where she silently wanders home in a daze and climbs the steps to her flat, right after Mario first recites poetry to her, is a master class in conveying a lot with only actions and gestures. From this point on, we know Mario is in there - and because we are so firmly on their side, we want to see this union succeed.
In the end, IL POSTINO is a valentine to all folks who have loved someone they thought was out of their reach, but with the help of a caring mentor, were able to find the confidence and passion to just go for it. It is also a valentine to those mentor-protégé relationships themselves.
In closing, I dedicate this review to the late Massimo Troisi, who chose to put this film ahead of his own well-being.
Ti salutiamo, Signor Troisi. Lei può riposi in pace.
