hunger
by Douglas Messerli
Mario Monicelli and Age & Scarpelli (screenplay),
Mario Monicelli (director) I compagni (The Organizer) / 1963, USA 1964
Italian director Mario Monicelli’s I compagni (“The Comrades,” translated
into English as The Organizer)
is a fairly realist fantasy that is beautiful to watch, at times comic and
heart-warming and at other times painfully touching. Yet ultimately this film
is utterly frustrating, for at its heart it is a portrait of stasis. Nothing
truly changes in this work despite all the hoopla of its beautifully portrayed
characters. If the film begins with a young teenage boy, Omero (Franco Ciolli)
forced to abandon his bed at 5:00 a.m. in order to join the others of this
Turin community in their daily trek to the giant textile plant where nearly all
of these poor men and women work from 5:30 to
Soon after Monicelli’s camera follows this 19th century workers to their
factory, we see them briefly enjoying their lunch before being called back into
their endless labor. By the end of the day, they have all become so exhausted
that one of their fellow workers nearly falls to sleep, mauling his hand in a
machine. A group of workers, the heavyweight Pautasso (Folco Lulli), Martinetti
(Bernard Blier), and the tough woman worker Cesarini (Elvira Tonelli) form a
committee to argue against their 14-hour work day, only to be entirely ignored
with the Dickensian-like management force who not only ignore their protests
but hurry off to their own leisurely lunches.
The
point, of course, is that these mostly illiterate and disorganized workers will
never succeed given their inability to work out logical alternatives; all they
can comprehend is they have to feed their families and themselves. Even in
their attempts to educate themselves in afterwork school lessons they find
themselves.
Suddenly
the comical-tragic fool Professor Sinigaglia (Marcello Mastroianni), evidently
a labor agitator on the run from police in Milan, appears in their midst.
Unlike the experienced labor leader Reuben Warshosky of the 1979 drama, Norma Rae, Sinigaglia is more a
Fellinesque-like clown, a man, as J. Hoberman describes him: “a hobo in a
battered hat and a greasy, threadbare cloak, a stooped fugitive on the run from
the police in Milan. In a movie where neither Karl Marx nor any of Italy’s
working-class heroes are ever mentioned, Mastroianni’s professor is a
stunningly perverse embodiment of revolutionary hope.”
He
is also hungry, in every sense of that word. Sharing a bed on the floor of the
local teacher, he awakes each morning to wake up the workers as well, using his
skills as a rhetorician to convince them that they have made all of the wrong
decisions. But when they leave for the night, one worker forgetting his
sandwich, the would-be “organizer” eyes the sandwich, grabbing it up with an
almost sexual relish. When the worker returns to reclaim his trophy, Sinigaglia
woefully gives it back, truly becoming another version of Chaplin’s Tramp.
Later, he eyes the window of a local chocolatier and restauranteur. He’s
clearly starved, even more than these poor provincials, for food and
companionship.
Finally, when Sinigaglia attempts to
re-energize his base by encouraging them to march in protest, they are, this
time, met by the police, the moment when Omero is killed. As if we are hit by a
sudden jolt of reality, the viewer can now only see the total futility of this
series of events, both comic and dramatic. We can only recognize La commedia è finita!
Hoberman argues that “although the movie closes with a long shot of
the defeated workers reentering their factory prison, including the child
forced to take his older brother’s place at the machines, the mood is not
exactly unhappy. The gates close, yet minds have been opened. The Organizer
is a historical comedy that demonstrates a very Gramscian (Antonio Grancsi was
the founder of the Italian Communist Party) formulation—'pessimism of the
intellect, optimism of the will’—as well as very popular one, to name another
Monicelli title: Viva Italia!”
I
wish I could see it that way. Even if we know that changes in labor laws always
come in small increments, and certainly did not happen overnight in Italy or
even the US, I can only see the film today as confirming the gradual erasing of
labor rights across the world. Italians may well live today but look at how the
right now regained control. In the US, immigrant workers are regularly being
turned away. Gradual change has seemed to be replaced by endless reversals.
Perhaps the honesty of this film is precisely Monicelli’s achievement. Things
in 1963 were perhaps not so very different different from the Risorgimento-era
this movie presents or are not so totally altered even today in the US. And we
all know what has become of the Turin—auto workers struck the Fiat plants in
that city the year before this film, which left that city in much the same
condition as the US city Detroit. People are still very hungry, even if governments
do not wish to truly investigate that fact, and they, in turn, will be forced
to steal even from those poorer than them in order to survive.
Los Angeles, June 25, 2018
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (June 2018).
No comments:
Post a Comment