After Hammamet, his biographical portrait of Italian politician Bettino Craxi during his last days of self-imposed exile in Tunisia, Gianni Amelio unearths another forgotten corner of his country’s history which is far more fascinating and universal in import. In place of a controversial national politician, Lord of the Ants (Il signore delle formiche) turns a spotlight on the ground-breaking poet and playwright Aldo Braibanti, a protagonist perhaps too full of himself to be called likable, but whose unflappable courage in the face of unjust persecution is both admirable and inspiring. Played by actor Luigi Lo Cascio with unhesitating command and self-assurance, Braibanti emerges as a profile in courage and dignity who will recall, for many, the better-known life of another cutting-edge intellectual of the period, Pier Paolo Pasolini.
Viewed today, this lightly fictionalized true story feels like a piece of latter-day Victoriana, a sad rerun of Oscar Wilde’s trial for homosexuality in 1895, yet bearing uncomfortable echoes of present day attitudes. As Amelio has stated, ”even if, apparently, no one gets scandalized over anything nowadays, in reality nothing much has changed… prejudices remain.” The straightforward screenplay, which he co-authored with Edoardo Petti and Federico Fava, brings its points home sharply and without embellishment. Though not big on atmosphere or visual éclat, the film becomes progressively more engrossing as the net of the moral majority closes in around the nonconformist artist, amid general indifference. The Match Factory release should play a bit beyond the veteran director’s long-time fan club to include sizeable swathes of LGBTQ audiences.
The story opens one evening at the end of an outdoor picnic at the Festa dell’Unità, the popular summer get-togethers sponsored by the daily paper of the Italian Communist Party. Braibrant sits alone, a solitary figure at a long table meant for congregation, while a young woman volunteer cleans up before closing. The foreshadowing: one day she will lead the protests outside Rome’s Palace of Justice where his trial will be held. Another key character sits at another table – also alone – eyeing the pretty volunteer. This is Ennio, a lower echelon reporter at L’Unità, who comes to life with Elio Germani’s warm smile and sporty hat. He, too, will play a role in the future trial by insisting he “write the truth” while the rest of the liberal Left turns its back on the incriminated poet. This seems particularly unjust, considering that Braibanti fought with the partisans during the war and was a member of the Party for a spell. A brief scene showing Ennio and the editor of L’Unità exchanging heated words underlines the hypocrisy of the Left politicians, though all this is a bit too obvious and déjà vu.
Though most names are changed, the screenplay relies on real-life events and relationships. Braibanti runs an avantgarde theater workshop in a historic tower near Piacenza, where he tyrannizes his youthful students from the heights of his great intellect. But to others, like Ettore (winsome newcomer Leonardo Maltese), he is a guru whose every word is pure gold. Maltese’s stunning screen debut turns the story into a tender, believable and ultimately heart-rending romance, as Ettore defies his ultra-conservative Catholic family and moves to Rome with the older Braibanti. The fuse has been lit, and it leads to an explosion when his strait-laced, middle-class mother comes calling. Ettore, who has just reached majority age, is kidnapped by his own family and locked up in a psychiatric ward, where electroshock treatments are administered to “get the devil out of his head.” At the family’s behest, Braibanti is arrested for “plagio” or moral subjugation, a Fascist-era crime that was rarely invoked except against those outside society’s norms.
Catching the viewer up in a trial that is a travesty of justice, full of false testimony and damning silence on Braibanti’s part, the story really flows from this point on, albeit along far more conventional channels, cinematically speaking, than the gloomily lit murder trial in Fascist Palermo in Amelio’s Sciascia classic, Open Doors. Yet the two scenes are connected by the high moral issues that are at stake in the outcome of judicial decisions that can drastically change civil society.
Braibanti’s aged mother, the soul of dignity, is a one-note character but thank God she’s there, braving public opinion to support him loyally. Oddly, the media is largely absent, except for Ennio up in the balcony, who has to fight for space in the paper with an editor who cancels the word “homosexuality” from his articles. The turning point comes when Ettore is called to the stand. Debilitated by electroshocks and barely able to walk or speak coherently, he nevertheless projects the luminous power of the truth into the courtroom, insisting that his relationship with Braibanti was consensual with angelic innocence and some of the film’s best-written dialogue.
Apart from Braibanti’s theater work and poetry (still read today), Lo Cascio brings out his obsessive passion for entomology and specifically for his study of ants as a sort of miniature laboratory of human society. The screenplay only takes this metaphor so far, though it reveals how wide-ranging and unique the writer’s mind really was.
Director: Gianni Amelio
Screenwriters: Gianni Amelio, Edoardo Petti, Federico Fava
Cast: Luigi Lo Cascio, Elio Germano, Leonardo Maltese, Sara Serraiocco, Luca Lazzareschi, Alessandro Bressanello
Producers: Simone Gattoni, Giuseppe Caschetto, Moreno Zani, Malcom Pagani, Paolo Del Brocco
Cinematography: Luan Amelio Ujkaj
Production design: Marta Maffucci
Costume design: Valentina Montice
Editing: Simona Paggi
Sound: Emanuele Cicconi
Production companies: Kavac Film, IBC Movie, TenderStories in association with RAI Cinema
World sales: The Match Factory
Venue: Venice Film Festival (Competition)
In Italian
134 minutes
