zecca99
Joined Aug 2015
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Reviews19
zecca99's rating
Pieraccioni's films will never be remembered beside Chaplin's masterpieces, but they are amusing, funny and lighthearted. Usually, there is a naive, sweet and little doofus main character, portrayed by Pieraccioni himself, a woman whose beauty could vary between very beautiful and stunning, and a various outline of funny characters.
This is his recipe.
This film follows such a path: a naive music teacher, Benedetto, maybe a little dorky, who meets his "sister", Ariadna Romero, whose beauty goes beyond any measure, but, to be honest, with limited acting skills. In reality she isn't really his sister, lucky for him, considering her beauty and appeal; Benedetto's mother had adopted her from a distance; the girl is South American; the woman died and she wishes to visit her grave in Italy. From this base starts a tiny, really tiny, plot with misunderstanding, a picturesque tour guide, an excellent interpretation by Rocco Papaleo, (remarkable the scene in the hospital with Pieraccioni, where they are believed to be a gay couple), who is desperately in love with an unfaithful woman; a scoundrel orchestra director; a charming and ferocious former girlfriend, Mary, casually meet on a train (Michela Andreozzi, not even vaguely beautiful as Ariadna); the fiery girl aggresses Benedetto with the meddling of another passenger (Maurizio Battista, a television stand up comedian in one of his rare effective interpretation in film) in one of the funniest film's scene. The story goes on, quietly and vacuously, with splendid Sardinian landscapes, a bunch of nuns, the girl's former boyfriend and others amenity towards the absolutely predictable ending. All lighthearted, no messages, no stuffy moral lessons; only an hour and a half of fun.
This is his recipe.
This film follows such a path: a naive music teacher, Benedetto, maybe a little dorky, who meets his "sister", Ariadna Romero, whose beauty goes beyond any measure, but, to be honest, with limited acting skills. In reality she isn't really his sister, lucky for him, considering her beauty and appeal; Benedetto's mother had adopted her from a distance; the girl is South American; the woman died and she wishes to visit her grave in Italy. From this base starts a tiny, really tiny, plot with misunderstanding, a picturesque tour guide, an excellent interpretation by Rocco Papaleo, (remarkable the scene in the hospital with Pieraccioni, where they are believed to be a gay couple), who is desperately in love with an unfaithful woman; a scoundrel orchestra director; a charming and ferocious former girlfriend, Mary, casually meet on a train (Michela Andreozzi, not even vaguely beautiful as Ariadna); the fiery girl aggresses Benedetto with the meddling of another passenger (Maurizio Battista, a television stand up comedian in one of his rare effective interpretation in film) in one of the funniest film's scene. The story goes on, quietly and vacuously, with splendid Sardinian landscapes, a bunch of nuns, the girl's former boyfriend and others amenity towards the absolutely predictable ending. All lighthearted, no messages, no stuffy moral lessons; only an hour and a half of fun.
I saw this film on an Italian tv program that was aired on Saturday late night, many years ago; I fell in love with it; because this film is hypnotic, mesmerizing.
Don't talk about the plot: it's only a pretext for Jesus Franco to insert trippy lesbo&murder scenes.
What it's really important are the atmosphere, the shots; sometimes surrealistic, sometimes hyperrealistic, sometimes merely absurd; the incisive soundtrack; and, above all, the women; no,no; it's not correct: THE WOMAN. Soledad Miranda's presence goes beyond any description; she secretes sensuality, eroticism, lust, sex and love; she walks along the entire film almost always naked but it's not only her nudity; it's her magnetism that ties the spectator; they are her hieratic, hallucinated eyes that keep you watching on; passing upon plot's holes as large as craters.
A special mention is absolutely well-deserved by Horst Tappert; before being Inspector Derrick he regales us with the characterization of a useless, lazy, absolutely incompetent cop that couldn't find Al Capone in a beans can.
But Soledad... oh Soledad!
Don't talk about the plot: it's only a pretext for Jesus Franco to insert trippy lesbo&murder scenes.
What it's really important are the atmosphere, the shots; sometimes surrealistic, sometimes hyperrealistic, sometimes merely absurd; the incisive soundtrack; and, above all, the women; no,no; it's not correct: THE WOMAN. Soledad Miranda's presence goes beyond any description; she secretes sensuality, eroticism, lust, sex and love; she walks along the entire film almost always naked but it's not only her nudity; it's her magnetism that ties the spectator; they are her hieratic, hallucinated eyes that keep you watching on; passing upon plot's holes as large as craters.
A special mention is absolutely well-deserved by Horst Tappert; before being Inspector Derrick he regales us with the characterization of a useless, lazy, absolutely incompetent cop that couldn't find Al Capone in a beans can.
But Soledad... oh Soledad!