The Gang’s All Here

Last night, my wife, Daniela, and I sat through the widely acclaimed, 2008 Italian Mafia movie Gomorra for the fourth or fifth time. Each time we watch it, we rate it more highly than on the occasion before.

So, why didn’t Gomorra win an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film, or even Best Film? Why didn’t it so much as make the shortlist?

Because after decades of Italian cinema of a certain type, starting out with the tragic Bicycle Thieves (1948), moving on to the work of that lovable genius, Federico Fellini, coasting through the BAFTA and Academy Award-winning Il Postino (The Postman, 1994), and ending up with a banal pastiche such as cuddly old Roberto Benigni’s Life Is Beautiful (1997), America was simply not ready for Gomorra, Matteo Garrone’s film based on Roberto Saviano’s 2006 semi-documentary “novel” about gang life in modern Naples.

That is, Hollywood wasn’t ready, and here are some reasons why:

1. Americans judge Mafia films by Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather (Parts 1 and 2 of which are tops, while Part 3 was a total washout). That series was all about the members of a large family of Italian immigrants, and their second-generation children, doing the wrong things for the right reasons (i.e., honor, family unity, friendship, etc.). By contrast, Gomorra has no identifiable hero, no reluctant Michael Corleone stepping into the limelight to avenge his father, no “noble” code of omertà (that is, “right” behavior among the criminal class). It is all about the mean, dirty business of scraping by in a society (southern Italy) which is barbarous, totally corrupt, and without any hope of possible redemption.

2. There is no story, no significant development, no grand conclusion which leaves you pondering how things might have been in a better world. There is no worse world possible than the mean streets of Naples. The five stories that make up the mosaic of this movie are all dead-end options--you give in to the inevitable, or you die. The only character who says no--Roberto (Carmine Paternoster) rejects the chance of a job dumping toxic waste--is dismissed with the following comment: “Go on then, fuck off, go and be a pizza-chef.”

3. There is no moral to Gomorra. People kill and are killed because of the world they live in. Among the things Daniela and I do is teach writing to “lifers” in the high-security prison in Spoleto, Italy, most of whom are unrepentant “associates” of the Camorra, ’Ndrangheta, Sacra Corona Unita, and similar Mafia bands. They say, and Gomorra confirms, that you have no choice if you happen to be born into that world. As the film puts it, “Are you with us, or against us?” If you choose the latter option, you don’t live long.

4. Gomorra makes no concessions to the audience. The language is incomprehensible, even for Italians. The Italian print of the film is subtitled! You are in a jungle where the baboons act out their nasty rituals, no explanations given. Why do so many people die? Because they are expendable worker ants. The Camorra can find a thousand new soldiers every week in a world where there are no jobs, and every man is desperate to provide for his family.

5. Director Garrone (a genius, if ever there was one) simply watches what goes on. There is no tension, no controlled build-up, no narrative “style” in a “story” where anything can--and does--happen at any time. This is the film equivalent of Raymond Chandler’s maxim about pepping up a dull scene by throwing in a guy who jumps through the door and starts shooting. Remember how quickly Chandler gave up on Hollywood, where everything had to be carefully structured? In Gomorra, random shooting is not a device to avoid boredom; it reflects a fact of life. At least four or five shootings in southern Italy are reported every day on the national TV news.

6. The actors in this film are not actors. With the exception of Toni Servillo, there is hardly a professional face on the set. And yet, paradoxically, the performers are all brilliant, simply being themselves. Indeed, since this film came out, at least five of the “actors” have been jailed for belonging to “Mafia associations.” Why use actors when the street is full of criminals who will play themselves for a fair day’s pay? Isn’t this neorealism?

7. The situations described in the movie are devoid of all romance. Is there a love scene? A kiss? Perhaps a helping hand offered to somebody in distress? The film is totally driven by money, what it means to have it, or not have it. Sex is bought, not won. It is, therefore, and by definition, a squalid life. Think of the saccharine Life Is Beautiful and you will see how far the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences is prepared to ignore historical truth in the interests of palatable fiction!

8. Where are the mandolin players? The spaghetti eaters? The tarantella dancers?

9. What happened to friendly smiling Italians? Ice cream? Pizza?

10. And what about the Italian landscape, art, and culture?

As you will realize, I gave up trying very hard at about point #7. For any Italian, or anyone who has lived in Italy for 29 years, as I have, Gomorra is a riveting reflection of the bad news that we hear every day on television and radio. It is the Italian film of the last 50 years!

Just to put all of this in context: This morning I went swimming. Everyone at the pool was adorable, friendly. Then I went shopping, and I chatted with half a dozen people. Outside the supermarket a gypsy in a straw hat was playing the accordion beautifully (begging, of course, but, well, the scene was chockfull of folklore). I returned home, saw my 90-year-old neighbor, Signora Orlanda, and we had the same conversation that we have every morning. “How are you?” I ask. “How should I be?” she answers. Then, she wishes me “buon pranzo,” which means “Have a good lunch.”

It isn’t even 10 o’clock in the morning.

But there you go, that’s the “real” Italy ...