As many have noted, the technical aspects of this film --the cinematography in particular-- are quite striking and sometimes beautiful. Unfortunately, the work as a whole isn't as equally developed, especially the script; as a result the viewer is overly-conscious of Bertolucci's Important Message, to the detriment of the whole film. There are many scenes that are visually wonderful; for example, when the antihero Marcello, the Conformist of the title, visits his syphilitic father in a sanitarium. Bertolucci set the scene in the midst of fascist-era monumental architecture for a very surreal effect. However, Marcello's father isn't real at all--he's a mannequin propped up by Bertolucci to represent the Corrupt Old Political Order. The viewer isn't allowed to make his or her judgment about the character--apparently Bertolucci doesn't trust his audience enough-- so the demented father blurts out a confession about torturing people. Bertolucci has a POINT and in case you're too stupid to get it, he'll make it crystal clear. I found that annoying, and a constant problem in the film. Yes, the art direction in the scene is wonderful; but the dialog is so bad the viewer becomes conscious of Bertolucci's manipulations. It's off-putting.
Bertolucci is equally ham-handed when he deals with one of the central metaphors of the film, Plato's analogy of the cave from the Republic. This, supposedly, was the subject matter of Marcello's thesis as a young philosophy student under his once-admired Professor Quadri, whom the older, Fascist Marcello has been assigned to assassinate. It's laughable to suggest that any philosophy student would write a thesis on the cave analogy and have it taken seriously by a professor; yet Professor Quadri spouts nonsense about Marcello's promise as a young student. The cave analogy is the biggest cliché in Western philosophy. For film students, imagine proposing to your doctoral supervisor a thesis on the significance of Rosebud in Citizen Kane, and you get the idea. Bertolucci trots out this tired old nag to beat it to death once again with absolute seriousness. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. If Bertolucci had philosophical pretensions for this film, he should have enough sense to make it believable. This isn't. Bertolucci compounds his mistake by accenting the significance of the cave analogy with visual cues: the opening and closing of shudders. Overall, it signifies a sophomoric philosopher become too-clever film director.
Bertolucci isn't satisfied with just philosophical ambitions for his story--it has to be Freudian, too. Early in the film, the audience sees in flashback a young Marcello, dressed as a dandified schoolboy, pursued by a harrying pack of boys. They trap Marcello and proceed to remove his knickers until they are interrupted by a passing chauffeur, whom we later learn to be Lino. Lino befriends Marcello, they play together in scenic parts of Florence, and then --sigh-- Lino invites Marcello into his apartment to see his gun, in both the literal and, I'm afraid, the metaphoric sense. In case you didn't miss it, this is a PHALLIC SYMBOL. Lino caresses Marcello until Marcello panics and begins firing the gun wildly, hitting Lino in the head and apparently killing him. This is Marcello's CHILDHOOD SEXUAL TRAUMA, which is clearly offered by Bertolucci as an explanation for his compulsive need as an adult to conform. Throughout the rest of the film, Bertolucci drops hints that Marcello is a closeted homosexual. He's sexually awkward with his attractive wife, but he compensates by engaging in casual sexual bragging with other men. He's attracted to Professor Quadri's wife, but the attraction is more fascination with her sexual liberation (she's bisexual) than with her. In several scenes there is noticeable sexual tension between Marcello and Manganiello, his Fascist spy partner, including an extended embrace. Manganiello isn't very bright, so he doesn't get it, but it's hard for the audience to miss. The payoff for all this Freudian subtext comes at the end of the film. Marcello meets his friend Italo in the streets of Rome while both of the them are trying to avoid capture by vigilante anti-Fascist mobs. The two of them pass by an older man and a younger man engaged in a conversation. Marcello overhears the older man obviously trying to seduce the receptive younger man with promises of food. Marcello suddenly recognizes the older man as --surprise!-- the chauffeur/pederast Lino, who didn't die after all. Marcello realizes that he isn't a murderer, and thus all of his attempts to conform to society were unnecessary. In a rage, he loudly denounces Lino as a Fascist, a homosexual and (naturally, according to the blunt psychology of Bertolucci) the murderer of Professor Quadri. Lino flees; Marcello turns his rage toward a panicky Italo, and denounces him as a Fascist, too. Italo is swept away in a celebrating crowd of anti-Fascists, leaving Marcello alone with the younger man.
The final shot of the film pans over the naked backside of the younger man/male prostitute as he reaches from a bed to hand-crank a Victrola playing romantic music. Marcello sits against a nearby fence with his back to the younger man and the camera, then slowly turns head to gaze back at the male prostitute. Fade to black. This plot device is amateurish at best. Hitchcock handled Freudian themes (think Psycho) with a bit of irony and made them more believable and thus enjoyably creepy. In contrast, Bertolucci explores the Freudian theme of Marcello's repressed homosexuality with all the subtlety and seriousness of a first-year university student. As a character, Marcello is forced to conform to a psychological type, and that makes him less believable. Again, despite the visual dexterity of the film, I became very aware of Bertolucci's manipulation of the audience. Sexual repression is BAD and leads to Fascism. Oh, please.
This is a film worth watching because of the beautiful images. Do yourself a favor: ignore the plot and Bertolucci's annoying intellectual pretentiousness. Turn off the subtitles and the dubbing, and you'll spare yourself some disappointment.
Bertolucci is equally ham-handed when he deals with one of the central metaphors of the film, Plato's analogy of the cave from the Republic. This, supposedly, was the subject matter of Marcello's thesis as a young philosophy student under his once-admired Professor Quadri, whom the older, Fascist Marcello has been assigned to assassinate. It's laughable to suggest that any philosophy student would write a thesis on the cave analogy and have it taken seriously by a professor; yet Professor Quadri spouts nonsense about Marcello's promise as a young student. The cave analogy is the biggest cliché in Western philosophy. For film students, imagine proposing to your doctoral supervisor a thesis on the significance of Rosebud in Citizen Kane, and you get the idea. Bertolucci trots out this tired old nag to beat it to death once again with absolute seriousness. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. If Bertolucci had philosophical pretensions for this film, he should have enough sense to make it believable. This isn't. Bertolucci compounds his mistake by accenting the significance of the cave analogy with visual cues: the opening and closing of shudders. Overall, it signifies a sophomoric philosopher become too-clever film director.
Bertolucci isn't satisfied with just philosophical ambitions for his story--it has to be Freudian, too. Early in the film, the audience sees in flashback a young Marcello, dressed as a dandified schoolboy, pursued by a harrying pack of boys. They trap Marcello and proceed to remove his knickers until they are interrupted by a passing chauffeur, whom we later learn to be Lino. Lino befriends Marcello, they play together in scenic parts of Florence, and then --sigh-- Lino invites Marcello into his apartment to see his gun, in both the literal and, I'm afraid, the metaphoric sense. In case you didn't miss it, this is a PHALLIC SYMBOL. Lino caresses Marcello until Marcello panics and begins firing the gun wildly, hitting Lino in the head and apparently killing him. This is Marcello's CHILDHOOD SEXUAL TRAUMA, which is clearly offered by Bertolucci as an explanation for his compulsive need as an adult to conform. Throughout the rest of the film, Bertolucci drops hints that Marcello is a closeted homosexual. He's sexually awkward with his attractive wife, but he compensates by engaging in casual sexual bragging with other men. He's attracted to Professor Quadri's wife, but the attraction is more fascination with her sexual liberation (she's bisexual) than with her. In several scenes there is noticeable sexual tension between Marcello and Manganiello, his Fascist spy partner, including an extended embrace. Manganiello isn't very bright, so he doesn't get it, but it's hard for the audience to miss. The payoff for all this Freudian subtext comes at the end of the film. Marcello meets his friend Italo in the streets of Rome while both of the them are trying to avoid capture by vigilante anti-Fascist mobs. The two of them pass by an older man and a younger man engaged in a conversation. Marcello overhears the older man obviously trying to seduce the receptive younger man with promises of food. Marcello suddenly recognizes the older man as --surprise!-- the chauffeur/pederast Lino, who didn't die after all. Marcello realizes that he isn't a murderer, and thus all of his attempts to conform to society were unnecessary. In a rage, he loudly denounces Lino as a Fascist, a homosexual and (naturally, according to the blunt psychology of Bertolucci) the murderer of Professor Quadri. Lino flees; Marcello turns his rage toward a panicky Italo, and denounces him as a Fascist, too. Italo is swept away in a celebrating crowd of anti-Fascists, leaving Marcello alone with the younger man.
The final shot of the film pans over the naked backside of the younger man/male prostitute as he reaches from a bed to hand-crank a Victrola playing romantic music. Marcello sits against a nearby fence with his back to the younger man and the camera, then slowly turns head to gaze back at the male prostitute. Fade to black. This plot device is amateurish at best. Hitchcock handled Freudian themes (think Psycho) with a bit of irony and made them more believable and thus enjoyably creepy. In contrast, Bertolucci explores the Freudian theme of Marcello's repressed homosexuality with all the subtlety and seriousness of a first-year university student. As a character, Marcello is forced to conform to a psychological type, and that makes him less believable. Again, despite the visual dexterity of the film, I became very aware of Bertolucci's manipulation of the audience. Sexual repression is BAD and leads to Fascism. Oh, please.
This is a film worth watching because of the beautiful images. Do yourself a favor: ignore the plot and Bertolucci's annoying intellectual pretentiousness. Turn off the subtitles and the dubbing, and you'll spare yourself some disappointment.