The State of World Cinema (according to me)

PART I:
This post is prompted by a question I was asked by my brother over the holidays: "What's the deal with French cinema?" (it was more like a challenge, implying that it is in decline, that no great directors or films come from there anymore, etc. I disagree, as you will see in Part II). It is true at this writing the most provocative, talked-about foreign films and directors come from places like Mexico and East Asia (China, Hong Kong, Japan, Taiwan). And countries such as Iran, Turkey and South Korea have a wellspring of young, exciting directors making films that regularly appear on any discerning critic's top ten lists.

But European cinema is by no means dead. Its influence is forever diluted on the world stage, due in no small part to Hollywood's successful campaign of global market saturation and domination, but that is a worldwide plague (thanks, Jack Valenti). The perception in this country that European cinema is on life support is due to its competition at the local art house: the advent of world cinema from the above-mentioned countries, and with previously unheard-from 'national' cinemas springing up in art houses everywhere (films made in Thailand, Mongolia, Kurdistan even), foreign films from traditional European powerhouses get squeezed out. None of this is a bad thing: it just makes it harder for a film to get noticed...to gain traction in the American filmgoers' consciousness...to get talked about at the Evian vending machine. This is not to say that if another Bergman, Fellini, or Truffaut emerges, he would not get noticed; but their names are more likely to sound like del Toro, Kiarostami, or Kore-Eda.

The rise of American independent cinema (and its susequent usurpation by the major studio's new independent wings) further crowds the marketplace and dilutes the impact of a memorable, or controversial, European film. The glory days of the Sixties -- when the latest Swedish, Italian or French import was seen and talked-about by mainstream movie-goers in the larger U.S. cities -- are long-gone, never to return. [A silver lining: we won't have a repeat of a forgettable Swedish import like I Am Curious (Yellow) becoming a box office hit in 1967!! Factoid: Yellow represents the color in the Swedish flag; its less-successful sequel was logically titled I Am Curious (Blue).]

Before I counter the perception that French cinema is in a rut, let me suggest that the European country that we really need to worry about is ITALY. Oh, how the mighty have fallen! I'm not saying anything new: the death of Italian cinema has been lamented for the last decade and a half at least, the economic impact of Hollywood releases making Italy's decline more precipitous than elsewhere. If you consider Giuseppe Tornatore's Cinema Paradiso (1990) as the high-point of post-Fellini Italian cinema (I will acknowledge that is a debatable point without debating it), I can think of only a handful of Italian films and/or directors who have made a lasting impression since then.

Of all the major directors profiled in Peter Bondanella's excellent reference work, Italian Cinema (the BIBLE of Italian Cinema!) only Pupi Avati and Marco Bellocchio have regularly released Italian-language films during this period. [I am sad to say that since 1986's controversial "The Devil In The Flesh," Bellocchio's only film to gain international acclaim was 2003's "Good Morning, Night," which I missed.] Hard to believe, but Bernardo Bertolucci's last film in his native language came out in 1984, according to IMDB.

Who else can be counted on for consistent quality films?
* Nanni Moretti has made heartfelt, deeply-personal movies in the interim (but only Caro diario, from 1994, and "The Son's Room" from 2003 received widespread release).
* Il Postino (1994) starred the late, great Italian comic actor Massimo Troisi (I didn't realize the extent of his talent and charming star power until I saw him in good health in one of his light comedies, "I Thought it was Love" which he directed in 1991). Yet Il Postino was directed by a Brit, Michael Radford.
* Roberto Benigni has proved to be a one-hit wonder since 1998's Oscar-winning "Life Is Beautiful" (but what a hit! My enthusiasm for it has been tempered recently, when I discovered it is "Barbara Bush's favorite movie," according to the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston). Harsh, but hilarious, criticism of his latest export, "The Tiger and the Snow" indicates that he is still relying on his same schtick.
* Tornatore has tried hard, but has never re-created the magic of Paradiso. [His latest attempt being 2000's Malena, starring the lovely Monica Bellucci.] The movie that has come the closest to recapturing that Paradiso magic was 1991's Mediterraneo (another Oscar winner), directed by Gabriele Salvatores. He eclipsed that somewhat lightweight film with a more complex and topical drama, 2003's excellent "I'm Not Scared," a harrowing tale of a young boy kidnapped for ransom, as told through the eyes of his rescuer, another young boy.
* Gianni Amelio had a run of three good films in the early Nineties (Open Doors, The Stolen Children, and Lamerica). The rising star director Gabriele Muccino followed Amelio's success in America with two well-reviewed releases: the romantic comedy "The Last Kiss" and "Remember Me, My Love," starring the lovely Monica Bellucci. His reward for these hits? Inevitably, his latest movie is an English-language, major studio release that goes by the title "The Pursuit of Happyness."

How many Italian films appear in any of my 'Best of' lists in the last five years? Only One (but it is a superb example of the potential of Italian cinema): Marco Tullio Giordana's La Meglio Gioventu ("The Best of Youth"). A six-hour epic produced for Italian television, it follows two Italian brothers, Nicola (Luigi Lo Cascio) and Matteo (Alessio Boni) Carati, growing up amid the backdrop of Italy's tumultuous history from the 1960s to the 1990s. Released in two parts in the U.S. in 2005, it is a worthy bookend to Bertolucci's 1900. I cannot wait for his next work. Combined with the three other Italian-language releases from 2003 mentioned above, they provide a shining light at the end of Italy's long dark celluloid tunnel.

End of Part I.