Nuovo cinema Paradiso (Giuseppe Tornatore, 1988, Italy)

An epic tale that has it all: humour, warmth, sincerity, drama, fantasy and most importantly a true sensitivity for its characters.

Nuovo Cinema Paradiso Is the story of Toto, a young boy growing up in small close-knit Sicilian village in the 1940s. The fatherless Toto seeks a father figure in Alfredo, the only projectionist in the village. Alfredo nurtures Toto’s love for cinema and educates him in the art of projection. The film is structured in a series of flashbacks with Toto, now known as Salvatore, reflecting on his childhood experiences and how they shaped his future.

There seems to be conflicting reports amongst critics on the best version to see; the original theatrical release, or the interminable Directors’ cut. Having not seen the original theatrical release I can’t pass judgment on which is the better of the two. However, what I can say is that all three hours of the directors’ cut seems necessary to me. There are a great number of films that would have benefited from greater editorial gardening, but I don’t believe this to be one of them. Admittedly, there is a minor lull in the middle of the film, which I assume was pruned from the theatrical release, but even so, it never feels bloated or becomes tedious. There are moments of Almodovar-esque melodrama that eek into the directors’ cut that perhaps distract slightly from the films core. That being said, I would happily have watched another three hours of footage, with or without the melodrama.

Despite how engaging and pleasing the film is both emotionally and visually it does suffer from a series of problems. From the beginning the film is unashamedly romantic and nostalgic, which works well for the most part, but there are moments where it becomes overly sweet and schmaltzy. Another problem is that the somewhat clichéd and one-dimensional representation of rustic village life renders it to be emotionally glib.

In spite of these problems, Nuovo Cinema Paradiso still manages to remain sincere and in its final scene delivers one of the warmest and most sincere moments in film history. It’s a love letter to cinema and will be thoroughly enjoyed by all film aficionados for its countless references to cinema of the past.

For those of you that are unconvinced about watching it, it's worth seeing simply because it's scored by Ennio Morricone! (see trailer below for a snippet of the wonderful score)

A Scene to Remember

Every week this section will be looking at a scene or moment in film history that has, for some reason or another, resonated with me and left an impression.

Pather Panchali (Satayajit Ray, 1955, India)

Often in film there are entrancing moments that are too ephemeral and unassuming to be properly described in words. Considering the point of a film blog is to communicate the seemingly ineffable, I have to admit failure for not being able to do so with the above clip.

Each and every time I see Apu's eyelids being prized open in unison with a young Ravi Shankar's sitar bursting into life, a shiver goes through me.

I can't recall any other film introducing a character in such an effectively beautiful and delicate way.

Jungle Fever (Spike Lee, 1991, USA)

With the recent anniversary of Spike Lee’s incontestable classic Do the Right Thing coming up under the media spotlight, it felt fitting that my first film blog review should be a Spike Lee ‘joint’.

Produced only two years after DTRT Lee continues in his examination of racial tensions in contemporary America. A theme that would continue to be explored again and again in Lee’s oeuvre.

It has been widely reported that upon the release of DTRT many government officials lobbied for the film not to be shown in theatres, fearing that it would spark violence and revolt in the black community. Whilst of course this was ridiculous, it said something for the raw power of the film. (Apparently pizza parlours across American genuinely sought security reinforcements!)

Though Lee clearly has something to say in the film (that being that interracial relationships are plagued with difficulties) the message is debased by the lack of subtlety employed. Instead of simply allowing the audience to feel and experience the tensions between Flipper and Angie, we are repeatedly told about them directly from the characters. A grave symptom of lazy and obtuse screenwriting.

The film is, however, interspersed with fleeting moments of brilliance. The most memorable scene being Gator’s baleful last dance, wonderfully performed by the always-impressive Samuel L Jackson. (see video below)

Overall the film felt messy and weak – both in vision and message. It lacks the vitality of DTRT and unlike its predecessor, it feels completely jaded in 2009.