love, death, and transfiguration
by Douglas Messerli
In Luchino Visconti’s
1960 melodramatic film, Rocco e i suoi fratelli (Rocco and
His Brothers)—a work I saw for the first time the other day—the first scene
portrays the arrival of Rosaria Parondi and four of her sons from the south of
Italy to Milan, where they suddenly intrude upon the celebration of Rosaria’s
fifth son, Vincenzo, and his fiancée, Ginetta, at her family’s home. Despite
Rosaria’s insistence throughout the film that she is concerned only for her
boys, it is quite clear that she has no compunction for destroying Vincenzo’s
marriage plans and in demanding that he become the sole supporter of her and
his brothers.
A fight inevitably breaks out between the
more urbanized (and more cultured) Milanese family and the outsider Parondis,
as Vincenzo’s relationship with Ginetta is permanently damaged and temporarily
put on hold. It is only the first indication we have of how difficult any
expression of love will become for all of the Parondi children as Vincenzo
sneaks away to have sex with Ginetta in abandoned structures, Simone, the
second eldest, falls in love with Nadia, a prostitute, and, later, Rocco—in
love with the same woman—is forced to meet her nightly in an isolated, outdoor
spot. Only the second youngest brother, Ciro, seems to have any healthy
relationship with a woman, visiting her family. Love in this mean Milanese
landscape is necessarily hidden and experienced on-the-run.
Strangely enough, perhaps because of his
near complete passivity—he is often told by women throughout the film to “wake
up,” as if he is dreaming away the time he spends with them—Rocco is truly
successful in this world, if only through a series of unfortunate events.
Perhaps his early
In the military, he sends nearly all his
paycheck home—his mother having pled for him to do so, despite the jobs of her
other sons. Having served out his duty, he reencounters Nadia, recently
released from prison. Placid in demeanor and accepting of nearly anything in
life, he alone refuses to judge Nadia, convincing her instead that she is still
young and has great possibility, that she should embrace faith instead of the
fear in which she has been living her life.
Once again, Rocco, despite a developing
hate for his brother—a hate he ultimately displaces by agreeing to enter the
boxing ring—forgives Simone, convinced that his brother desperately needs Nadia
to help him better his life. His abandonment of her has fatal consequences, she
returning to alcohol and prostitution, Simone to his brutal pattern of abuse
and petty thievery.
The tender-hearted Rocco, who had
previously refused to fight, now achieves the success as a boxer that his
brother had failed to, which merely increases Simone’s jealousy of Rocco and of
all his siblings. Simone’s desperation leads him also to male prostitution, as
he agrees to accept the sexual attentions of the boxing impresario Cecchi,
ultimately stealing money even from him.
As Cecchi threatens legal action, Rocco
once more gives up any normal future by indenturing himself, against the
protestations of his two other brothers, to a boxing career for at least ten
more years. In a sense, Rocco, in his selflessness, prostitutes himself at a
level even greater than Simone and Nadia.
Another winning bout transforms him into a
local hero, which the family celebrates—reminding us of that first scene. In a
sense, he is now wed, like Vincenzo—to a violent career, however, instead of to
a beautiful woman. While the family toasts one another and their neighbors,
Simone has discovered the whereabouts of Nadia, seeking her out with the hope
that she may return to him. But she, having fallen to the lowest levels of
existence and facing, she believes, reimprisonment, reiterates what Rocco has
previously called Simone: a “disgusting” beast. Simone is completely undone,
stabbing his lover over and over as she pleads for her life.
into tragedy. As Simone
admits to Nadia’s murder, Rocco, lying on the bed as he holds him, howls in
pain, suggesting an almost sexual dance of death derived from a near-incestual
love that embraces all the sorrow and anger that the family has endured. While
Rocco wants only to attempt to hide his brother, covering up the family shame,
Ciro, realizing his civic responsibility, rushes off, Rocco and Luca trying to
stop him, to report the murder to the police.
Some critics have maintained that Visconti
allowed, in these last scenes, for his film to be pulled in two directions:
while obviously arguing for the rational assimilation of these figures into the
society in which they now live, in his sensitive portrayal of Rocco he presents
a seemingly conflicted representation of a nostalgic love for an impossible
past. Yet Ciro’s last conversation with his younger brother, Luca, I would
argue, makes it clear that if this family is to have any future, it must embrace
the new world, rejecting the familial and sexual gender-based priorities of the
South. Luca’s insistence that his brother return home represents a spiritual
awakening in this family, a simultaneous acceptance of both Rocco’s spiritually
inspired nostalgia* and Ciro’s more socially oriented pragmatism.
*It is interesting to note that Rocco tells Nadia of his plans to
abandon her for his brother’s sake, a nearly saintly act, upon the parapets of
the Duomo di Milano, that city’s major cathedral.
Los Angeles, June 1, 2002
Reprinted from Green Integer Blog (September
2008).
No comments:
Post a Comment