The Way We Laughed

Just released on DVD, Gianni Amelio's 1998 film The Way We Laughed is a heartfelt chronicle of the fortunes of two brothers over a six-year period in postwar Italy that parallels the growth of the country from an agricultural to an urbanized, industrial society. Winner of the Grand Lion Award at the Venice Film Festival, the film derives its title from its constant reference to old-fashioned jokes on the back page of an Italian magazine from the fifties. Though I do not feel it is quite on the same level as Amelio's earlier work (L'America, Stolen Children), The Way We Laughed is a soulful and captivating film that evokes a world little remembered except in the great Italian neo-realism films from the 40s and 50s. But the film is far from being a historical or political drama. As Sokurov explored the complex relationships between mothers and fathers and their sons in his Russian films, Amelio investigates the bond between brothers and the issues that result from self-sacrifice in a close-knit Italian family.

The film is separated into six parts labeled "Arrivals," "Deceptions," "Money," "Letters," "Blood" and "Families", each taking place on one day during the period from 1958 to 1964. While this technique allows us to understand the events taking place in Italy during this period, the sudden changes in the lives of the characters is difficult to follow and we are left having to put the pieces of the puzzle together on our own. As the film opens, Giovanni (Enrico Lo Verso), a poor illiterate worker arrives from Sicily to visit his teenage brother Pietro (Francesco Giuffrida) in the industrial north of Italy who is studying to become a teacher. Determined that his brother Pietro will get a good education, he decides to remain in Turin to support him.

It is clear from the outset that all is not well with Pietro. He hides behind a pillar at the train station rather than meeting his brother, then goes out of way to help a Sicilan family who are lost until he finally gives up in disgust. He is very handsome but there is a haunted look in his eyes and it is never clear what his secrets are. Giovanni, magnificently portrayed by Lo Verso, is quite different. He is a giving person -- open and warm hearted. He sacrifices for Pietro, working low paying menial jobs but the younger brother seems unmotivated and does not take studying very seriously. Their love is not at issue, but each has an idealized picture of the other and they never fully come to grips with each other's reality.

As the years go by, Giovanni begins to move up the economic ladder and becomes a low-level Supervisor, then the boss of a cooperative. Pietro meanwhile has gone to a private teacher and has received his degree. The brothers remain close but when Pietro witnesses Giovanni getting into a fight with a presumed underworld figure, the consequences that result from self-sacrifice and the betrayal of morality are explored in a powerful conclusion. Like Giovanni's rise to a position of power through suggested shady dealings, The Way We Laughed seems to be saying that as modern Western societies have become rich, they have arrogantly forgotten the values it took them to get there.

In 1958, the illiterate and naive hard worker Giovanni (Enrico Lo Verso) comes from Sicily to Turin to visit his younger and spoiled brother Pietro (Francesco Giuffrida), who is studying supported by Giovanni. While Giovanni sacrifices his life and decides to stay in Turin working hard to give condition to his brother to become a teacher, the dishonest Pietro is an arrogant liar, skipping classes and failing in the exams. A couple of years later, when Pietro vanishes, Giovanni goes haywire. In the early 60's, Pietro has just graduated in high-school; he seeks Giovanni out and finds that his brother is married; leader of the local labor union organization; and leaning how to write, but has lost his innocence. Their lives will never be the same after their reunion.

"Così Ridevano" is a human movie about the relationship between brothers, and characters and fraternal sacrifices. The story is developed from 1958 to 1964, showing the economical situation of Italy, more specifically of Turin, and how the Southern immigrants from Sicily were treated and explored by their employers. It is touching to see how Giovanni respects the books and sees the importance of education contrasting in a counterpoint with the feelings of his reckless brother. The screenplay is divided in six chapters ("arrivals", "deceptions", "money", "letters", "blood" and "families") and uses ellipsis, jumping through the years and leaving many situations unresolved as if they were kept in secret. The storyline has many points in common with Luchino Visconti's masterpiece "Rocco e i Suoi Fratelli" (Italy in early 60's, the fight for survival of a family from the countryside in Milano and the relationship among brothers). However, the plot is never corny and the conclusion is totally unexpected and unpredictable. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Assim É Que Se Ria" ("That's the Way We Laughed")

Watched on Italian DVD (using the standard-Italian subtitles for the hearing-impaired to decode the Sicilian dialect) for the first time March 2005. Winner of the top prize "Leone d'Oro" at Venice. Actually available as of 2004 on a US code DVD.

The title, referring to an old joke column, is ironic. The film's review of Italian post-war economic miracle years is deeply tinged with sadness and a sense of the price paid in innocence lost to gain security and status. The whole focus is on the love between two Sicilian brothers, Giovanni and Pietro. The angel-faced Pietro (Francesco Giuffrida) from the first appears devious. When his brother arrives at the station, he slinks off and hides from him. He's lazy, a dandy, a liar, a faker, a bad seed. Yet he's worshiped by the innocent, muscular, illiterate Giovanni (Enrico Lo Verso), who has turned up with other southern immigrants at the Turin railway station intending just to visit his baby brother as the film opens and then stays on in the North to support him.

The mise-en-scène is visually beautiful but conventionalizes the period into a kind of grimy poetry more worthy of twenty or thirty years earlier, no doubt consciously echoing Italian neorealist films (Amelio has been called the new De Sica) or becoming a glossier color version of Visconti's mournful epic tragedy of southern Italians in Milan, "Rocco and His Brothers" (1960). My DVD's Italian jacket copy translates a paragraph from Stephen Holden's 2001 NYTimes review expanding one of its key ideas: "'Così rideveno'has the power to keep its own secrets," this Italian version reads. "Without ever being moralistic, by the end it becomes the metaphor for a whole society that makes a kind of tacit pact with itself never to look too deeply into the hidden effects social processes have on individuals and their destinies." The interest -- and yet the frustration -- of the film is that its sequences each appear revelatory, but shed little light on the intervening periods of time. It is organized in a "rather elegant" manner (Rosenbaum) into a structure of microscopic views of single days out of each year from 1959 through 1964, each day designated by a key word: "arrivals," "deceptions," "money", "letters, "blood," and "families." This neat structure masks a surrounding mystery in the relationship between the two brothers, and we deduce for ourselves from the way they seek out and avoid each other how alike and interdependent they are. Each cherishes illusions about the other; one is proud, the other ashamed. Vivid and touching as the film is, it's also highly artificial, notably in how little of the two characters' lives is made clear, how little the world outside their relationship is explored.

Metaphorical indeed, "Così ridevano" explores an inseparable (and ultimately false) dichotomy between innocence and experience, naiveté and sophistication that may go to the heart not only of North-South relations but of the Italian soul. Both actors, Amelio regular Lo Verso and newcomer Giuffreda, are remarkable, and the scenes between them are heartbreaking.

So far the only other Amelio film I've seen is "The Housekeys" ("Le chiavi di casa," 2004), which being a documentary-like chronicle of a short stretch of contemporary time, seems so different, and yet on reflection is so similar in feeling. Obviously Amelio is an extraordinary director and I must see "Lamarica" and "Stolen Children" ("Il ladro di bambini"), both also starring the intense, soulful Lo Verso, which have received the highest praise of any of Amelio's films.

A tower of strength in the contemporary Italian terrain, Gianni Amelio's Venice Golden Lion winner THE WAY WE LAUGHED (my second entry after TKEY KEYS TO THE HOUSE 2004, 7/10), his sixth feature, is an emotion-charged story at the end of 50s, Giovanni (Lo Verso), an illiterate Sicilian young man, arrives in Torin to reunite with his young brother Pietro (Giuffrida), who is studying in high school.

Captioned the chapters by years and key words, the film infallibly circles around the two brothers, about their incompatible interrelation, which can be approximately summed up as follows, Giovanni unyieldingly insists that Pietro should finish his study and become a teacher, to fulfil a dream he is unable to pursue, as if this means the whole world to him, while Pietro, under such pressure to excel in the class, has to live in the fear that he might fail to live up to his dear brother's expectation, which establishes a deep discord between them. Life rarely goes according to one's wishful blueprint, however Amelio's meticulous endeavour, sometimes perilously close to mushy and over-indulgent, is to testify that blood is thicker than water, no matter what, even you have to murder a person, there is a silver lining awaits you.

Attentively restoring a retro setting of a period ripe with absolute poverty and blatant opportunism, Amelio opts for an alternative to green-light the success of the uneducated- but-determined money-grabber other than the younger-but-intellectual generation, eventually it is the latter's voluntary sacrifice saves the former from going down to the prison, so that the former can secure his hectoring business and start a genuine Italian family, with a sincere guilt compelling him to make up for the latter, but in the coda, after a heavy-handed device to sabotage a formal farewell ceremony, it leaves us wonder, how the two brothers have changed internally during the time-span, the same four-elephants-in-a- fiat joke caps the film, yet, they have become more distant from each other both physically and mentally.

Enrico Lo Verso, the leading actor of Amelio's more well-received works (THE STOLEN CHILDREN 1992 and LAMERICA 1994), greatly elicits Giovanni's devoted affection towards his beloved brother, addresses the most cringe-worthy dialogue (in Sicilian dialect, sounds like an utterly different language from Italian) with unaffected candour. Giuffrida, the young actor, was only 17 during the filming, is a few notches below by comparison, his Pietro is less sympathetic and his emotional spectrum is more intangible to pin down.

Many a time, the chapter-to-chapter cohesion fails to be fluent, viewers are prone to feel disconnected and confused about the happenings, for example, Giovanni's intentional tantrum in Pietro's school is introduced abruptly since Amelio coyly refuses to lay bare what has happened to Pietro, similarly, from his disappearance to a miraculous triumph aided by a private teacher, Pietro's transformation is bluntly conjured up without any weight. For what it's worth, THE WAY WE LAUGHED feels a tad undeserving of its garland, nostalgic, mawkish and a run-of-the-mill drama falls flat on its face.

Beautifully photographed, and mostly very well acted (with a few over-the-top moments), this is a complex, odd, and often fascinating look at the relationship between two brothers in Italy.

It shows one day in their life each year between 1958 and 1964, avoiding movie convention by not filling in the details of what's gone on during the time in between. It's left to us to figure out, or imagine.

While brave and challenging, the characters never fully develop, sometimes feeling more sketchy and symbolic than full blooded.

Early on I thought I might be watching a masterpiece, but as it went on, I felt (to quote Chicago Reader critic Jonathan Rosenberg) 'guilty for not liking it more'. Still, a strong and original enough film that I'd like to revisit it one day, and see if it grows even deeper on 2nd viewing.