A
lot of heartsick Nineteenth Century Italian noblemen wrote lyric poetry, but
Giacomo Leopardi is still read today. He was a poet and a scholar but not much
of a lover, for reasons that will be sadly obvious. Mario Martone dotingly
dramatizes his short and infirm life of letters in Leopardi (trailer
here),
which screens as part of Open Roads: New Italian Cinema 2015.
Leopardi
was born in Recanti in what were then the Papal States. For years, the sickly
young man studied in the famed library of his illustrious father, the Count
Monaldo, but it was a gilded cage. With the encouragement of firebrand
classicist Pietro Giordani, whom Leopardi knew through correspondence, the
frail poet absconds from his ancestral home under the dark of night, commencing
a life of literary bohemianism in Florence with Antonio Ranieri, a Neapolitan
exile.
His
fame increases now that Leopardi freely writes the sort of verse his strict
mother never approved of, but his body will contract, perhaps the result of
Pott disease. Nevertheless, Leopardi will fall desperately in love with the
elegant and sophisticated Fanny Targioni Tozzetti. She is hardly an
empty-headed party girl, but she does not return Leopardi’s ardor. Alas, she is
more interested in Ranieri and any number of other lovers who present
themselves.
Even
though Leopardi is not widely read outside of Italy, there is not a vast bounty
of surprises to be found in Martone and co-screenwriter Ippolita Di Majo’s big
screen bio treatment. A brief description of the poet and his circumstances is
sufficient to suggest the general narrative arc. Yet, somehow they drag the
inevitable out beyond the two hour mark. Perhaps Martone was simply too
reluctant to leave Recanti. Granted permission by the heirs to film at the
Leopardi library and palazzo, the cast literally walks in the footsteps of
their characters. As a result, the film looks gorgeous and rings with
authenticity.
Elio
Germano also deserves great credit for his portrayal of the title figure. It is
rather remarkable how he slowly but steadily shows the poet becoming more stoop
shouldered and literally twisted. It is a seamless progression that never calls
attention to itself. He is also convincingly smart and sensitive as Leopardi, yet
reserved in a way that never trolls for cheap sympathy. Even though she is
dubbed in Italian, French actress Anna Mouglalis has the sort of earthy,
seductive presence that makes it easy to accept Leopardi’s yearning. However,
Michele Riondino’s shaggy Ranieri never looks like he belongs in the era.
Martone
successfully incorporates Leopardi’s poetry into several key scenes, including
his big emotional payoff. Nevertheless, he leaves a lot of slack in the first
two acts. The pop songs included in the soundtrack are also a calculated
mistake that are far less likely to “speak” to anyone interested in the life of
Giacomo Leopardi than period-appropriate arias.
