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)