I'm not a critic and my surname is not Morandini.
I did not even "studied" film, but I, like many others in my same situation that you have every right to speak my mind on any topic of cinema.
Why? But because we, millions of people whose opinion is often ridiculed by so-called "experts", from people who read books about books that have "taught" what to think of Tarkovsky, Kubrick thing to praise, appreciate what Kurosawa, we We the public.
E senza pubblico il cinema non esiste.
D’altra parte non tengo nemmeno a drogare la mia testa, a piegare le mie opinioni a quelle di un signor nessuno che basandosi sul nulla ha deciso cosa è bello e cosa no, cosa è cultura e cosa è stupidità, cosa merita di essere visto e cosa no e perché.
Questa notte (beh sono le due del mattino) voglio scrivere qualcosa su tre film di Pasolini che ho visto di recente : Accattone, Mamma Roma e Uccellacci e Uccellini.
So che molta gente non sarà d’accordo con quello che scriverò, ma vi do una notizia: non mi interessa.
Non mi dilungherò molto con pesanti elucubrazioni ma mi limiterò ad esprimere my opinion.
The first film is The Hawks and the Sparrows (1966).
What about this film except that it is a heavy one?
Well there are other things you can say for example that what Pasolini calls "surreal fairy tale" is simply a corruption of the botched surrealism of Bunuel.
How was this surreal? A
Toto which were cut short wings accompanied by a stupid Ninetto Davoli version (which also plays masterfully) walk for hours along a road on the outskirts of Rome a prey to hunger pangs.
evicts people from a property in the outskirts of Rome and meet a crow that speaks Bologna (oh sorry, is the Marxist intellectual fallen as we would point out during the Pasolini film with the writing, perhaps conscious of the fact that no one would understand).
The film evolves between metaphors and images that evoke historical and political events and famous people of the time (Togliatti) performed with a static and a litany of tricks that perhaps befits the press, but bored and disappoint if returned to the screen .
Regarding Accattone (1961) and Mamma Roma (1962), my words can not do echo those of these critics is undoubtedly masterpieces.
is evident on both the influence of the famous novel "Ragazzi di vita". In
Accattone (as in Mamma Roma), there are shown views of Rome's poorest in the late 50. The immense spaces are adorned by the way of the humble cottages, whose alternative lives are reduced to hunger, theft, prostitution, or break his back to collect glass bottles from the landfill for a few dollars.
Accattone is a bully in the suburbs, a drifter who does not live, but survives maintained by a woman who goes into prostitution, many are his attempts to redeem himself, to change, but all result in failure.
People born in an abyss from the walls too smooth to be climbed.
The choice of sacred music that always accompanies Accattone fits perfectly with the environment and helps to drag the viewer into the atmosphere that the director manages to create.
Mamma Roma is almost an "evolution" dell'Accattone. There are the slums, prostitutes, "beggars," but there is something more.
Mamma Roma is a prostitute who decides to change his life. It takes the child, entrusted to a family living in the province, and went to live with him in a suburb of the capital.
Figure of Mamma Roma again we see once the humble attempt to trace, to get away dall'ignobile destiny that fate seemed to have drawn for him. The sense of responsibility, the meaning of this ex-prostitute did not know before getting to the comparison with the dissolute life which reduces the child develops slowly during the evolution of the film.
All of these elements, combined with the stunning final shot of her dead son with an extraordinary precision that recalls the picture of the dead Christ Keep making this film as a key player in the history of Italian cinema.
NB. It is not my intention to denigrate the whole category of film critics. I simply can not respect those who, considering himself above category, they let their critical sense is stifled suppressed and manipulated by the "theories" of others.
Here is a tribute to Pasolini.
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