The Conformist 1970
A Film by Bernardo Bertolucci 01:51:12  8,13 Gb
Subtitles English, Spanish, Portuguese
Drama  Nominated for Oscar  7 wins italy, France, West Germany
The conformist is 1930s Italian Marcello Clerici (Jean-Louis  Trintignant), a coward who has spent his life accommodating others so  that he can "belong." Marcello agrees to kill a political refugee, on  orders from the Fascist government, even though the victim-to-be is his  college mentor. The film is a character study of the kind of person who  willingly "conforms" to the ideological fashions of his day. In this  case, director Bernardo Bertolucci suggests that Marcello's desire to  conform is rooted in his latent homosexuality. In addition to its strong  storyline, the film is critically revered for the astonishing  production design by Nedo Azzini, which, together with Vittorio  Storaro's camerawork, recreates the atmosphere of Fascist Italy with  some of the most complex visual compositions ever seen on film, filled  with highly stylized uses of angles, shapes, and shadows.
IMDB
With The  Conformist, Bernardo Bertolucci delivered one of his signature  masterworks and joined the ranks of world-class directors. Based on the  acclaimed novel by Alberto Moravia (who greatly admired Bertolucci's  adaptation), this milestone of cinematic style concerns one of  Bertolucci's dominant themes--the duality of sexual and political  conflict--in telling the story of Marcello (Jean-Louis Trintignant), a  30-year-old Italian haunted by the memory of a sexually traumatic  childhood experience. As an adult with repressed homosexual desires,  Marcello wants nothing more than to conform to the upper-crust  expectations of Italian society, so he marries the dim-witted,  petit-bourgeois Giulia (Stefania Sandrelli), and willfully joins the  Italian Fascist movement, traveling from Rome to Paris with an  assignment to assassinate his former academic mentor, Prof. Quadri (Enzo  Tarascio). As he grows attracted to Quadri's bisexual wife Anna  (Dominique Sanda), who is in turn attracted to Giulia, Marcello's path  of duplicity parallels that of Mussolini's inevitable downfall. He's on  an irreversible course of self-destruction, on which his troubled past  and morally corrupted present will collide in a soul-crushing heap of  personal contradictions.
While the psychosexual aspects of Bertolucci's Oscar®-nominated  screenplay remain dramatically compelling, The Conformist is now better  known as a dazzling stylistic breakthrough, with sweeping camera moves,  oblique angles, and innovative editing brilliantly applied to  Bertolucci's rich themes of internalized conflict. In close  collaboration with master cinematographer Vittorio Storaro, Bertolucci  crafted one of the greatest films of the 1970s, offered here with its  richly relevant "Dance of the Blind" scene fully intact. This  five-minute scene was cut from the original American release, then  restored for the film's 1994 re-release. It's a welcome enhancement of  the film's suspenseful historical context, which is fully explored in  three bonus featurettes in which Bertolucci and Storaro discuss the  story, production, and innovative style of The Conformist in fascinating  detail. For serious collectors of important films, The Conformist is  absolutely essential.
An international art cinema success, Bernardo Bertolucci's The  Conformist (1970) turned the more straightforward Alberto Moravia novel  into an elliptically subjective story about the psychological birth of a  1930s Italian Fascist. To show how Clerici is driven and entrapped by a  past sexual trauma, Bertolucci cuts from Clerici's journey to kill his  radical former professor to flashbacks embedded within flashbacks of his  childhood, his marriage to dull bourgeois bride Giulia, and his blind  Fascist mentor. Renowned visual set pieces, such as Clerici's visit to  the Fascist headquarters and Anna's and Giulia's sensual tango,  underline the connection between sexual decadence and Clerici's  repressive conformism. Vittorio Storaro's lush cinematography lends  further insight into Clerici's disturbed psyche, particularly through  the imprisoning bars cast by the shadows of the venetian blinds in  Giulia's apartment, matching her striped dress. Criticized by some for  promoting a psychological explanation of Fascism over cultural,  historical, or ideological ones, The Conformist was nonetheless lauded  for its influential visual brilliance and complex narrative artistry;  Francis Ford Coppola paid direct homage with an image of blowing leaves  in The Godfather, Part II (1974).
Lucia Bozzola, Rovi
 
American film audiences have rarely had the opportunity to view Bernardo  Bertolucci's The Conformist in its original widescreen, non-dubbed  theatrical release version. Although a restored print of the film has  recently been shown at American film festivals, The Conformist remains  unavailable on DVD. Its faded, butchered, and dubbed VHS/laserdisc  release is long out-of-print, just about impossible to find, and a  desecration not worth viewing in any case. Fortunately, I happened to  view (and videotape) a widescreen, non-dubbed print of the film shown  some years ago on a cable premium movie channel. No film lover should  pass up an opportunity to see this film in any form approaching the  director's intentions.
A comparison of Bertolucci's The Conformist with the novel by Alberto  Moravia from which it was adapted illuminates much about the ambitious  style and structure of the film. For instance, Bertolucci chose not to  follow the novel's omniscient point of view. Instead, he uses the  intensely subjective and heavily unreliable point of view of the story's  main character, Marcello (Jean-Louis Trintignant), a child of decadent  aristocracy who embraces fascism, not from ideological commitment but  from a desire to blend in with his social surroundings. Bertolucci also  structures the film's plot in a non-linear manner rather than emulating  Moravia's chronological narration. This strategy yields a film  equivalent of the modern novel's characteristic  "stream-of-consciousness" technique, whereby the inner workings of  Marcello's mind, his desire for "normality" at all costs, are plumbed in  a fragmented series of recollections held together by psychological  association rather than direct cause and effect. 
Bertolucci's approach transforms Moravia's rather conventional,  socio-political novel into a much more intimate and complex  psychological study of the protagonist. The film's subjective point of  view emotionally intensifies the formative and revealing experiences of  Marcello's life such as his encounter as a young man with a male  seducer, his shamed alienation from his parents, his deliberate  courtship of and marriage to a shallow bourgeois young lady, and his  ambivalent relationship with his anti-fascist former professor and the  professor's liberated, bisexual wife. Two plot alterations from the  novel are also worth noting. One is in the manner and location of the  assassination of the professor and his wife, which occurs much more  matter-of-factly in the novel. Bertolucci changes the setting to an  isolated, snow-covered stretch of countryside where Marcello witnesses  the execution and, by doing nothing to prevent or protest it, becomes  morally complicit in the act. A second change involves the plot outcome  for Marcello himself. Whereas in the novel Marcello and his family are  killed by Allied bombing while attempting to flee Rome, the film's  ending is much more open and ambiguous. 
Technically, The Conformist's indisputably brilliant cinematography,  directed by Vittorio Storaro (Apocalypse Now), combines with some of the  finest low budget set decoration in film history to poetically evoke a  1930s European setting that seems simultaneously real and surreal. Such  scenes as the blind persons' ball, Marcello's meeting with his father in  a stadium-like insane asylum, his walk through the Italian fascist  government building, and the justly famous low-angle shot of blowing  leaves are either hauntingly lyrical or startlingly nightmarish or,  often, lyrical and nightmarish simultaneously. Many shots in the first  two thirds of the film are skewed by slightly oblique camera angles to  suggest that we are seeing a reality shaped by Marcello Clerici 's  selective, distorting memory. This visual style radically shifts once  the climactic assassination takes place and Marcello's consciousness is  absorbed entirely into the film's present time. George Delerue's musical  score and other elements of the soundtrack also greatly enhance the  wonderfully nuanced mood shifts within and between the complex narrative  strains of the plot. Quite simply, The Conformist is an unforgettable  masterpiece of the highest order.
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