Allonsanfàn (1974) Mastroianni Dons The Mask of Anarchy (Review)

Once again, Radiance have uncovered another gem from 1970s Italian Cinema. They’ve dusted it down, smartened it up and packed it with extras and released it to Blu-ray this week. But this one isn’t a poliziotteschi or a giallo, this is Allonsanfàn, a classy period drama writer/director siblings Paulo and Vittorio Taviani and starring that icon of Italian cinema, Marcello Mastroianni. It’s a film that put me in mind of Stanley Kubrick’s acclaimed Barry Lyndon from the subsequent year. Like that film, this is a movie rich in flamboyancy and humour, yet remains unfailingly melancholic in its atmosphere overall.

Set in the early 19th century, against the backdrop of the Restoration and the Italian Unification, Allonsanfàn (its title derives from the lyric ‘Allons enfants’, literally ‘arise, children’, from the French national anthem, La Marseillaise – though it is also the name of a secondary character in the narrative) sees Mastroianni take the lead role of Fulvio Imbriani, a middle-aged aristocratic Jacobin veteran of the Italian campaigns of the French revolutionary wars. The film opens after the fall of Napoleon and sees a bearded, bedraggled and timorous Fulvio released from gaol, his captors having spread the false rumour that he has sold out his comrades – the anarchist revolutionary group known as the Sublime Brothers – in exchange for his own freedom. Immediately abducted by the Brothers, Fulvio faces the prospect of a trial, but the suicide of their revolutionary leader, disheartened by what he believes is a lost cause, sees the dejected group disband and a reprieved Fulvio is left to return home to his ancestral villa and be reunited with his sister Esther (Laura Betti) and her family.

Now safely ensconced in palatial luxury, Fulvio believes his role in the dangerous revolutionary days of political struggle to be over and is content to cast off such anarchy for a quiet life of pampered privilege. It isn’t long however before Charlotte (Lea Massari), his anarchist lover and the mother of his infant child, Massimiliano (Ermanno Taviani), descends upon his peaceful existence with the funds to launch a campaign to liberate cholera-ridden Kingdom of the Two Sicilies from the Spanish Bourbons and the news that the now reunited and re-energised Brothers are on their way. This leaves the now dissolute Fulvio in a bind; how can he persuade the still-committed Charlotte that his own reluctance to return to the fight is the right course of action? Ultimately, Esther gets wind of the plan and reports the Brothers’ arrival to the Hapsburg authorities. In the ensuing ambush, several of Fulvio’s former comrades are slaughtered, including Charlotte, leaving him in sole custody of Massimiiliano. From here, Fulvio begins to plan their escape to America, where they can begin a new life away from the pull of revolution.

Oblivious to his betrayal, the remaining Brothers, including their old leader’s son Allonsanfàn (Stanko Molner), Lionello (Claudio Cassinelli) and his lover Francesca (Mimsy Farmer), contact Fulvio at Charlotte’s funeral. They tell him that the expedition is still going ahead, spurred on by the story of Vanni (Benjamin Lev), a Southern exile whose Cholera-struck wife was buried alive by the cruel Two Sicilies militia, and they look to Fulvio to organise their arms. Cornered, once again Fulvio ties himself up in knots with various plots and schemes to wriggle out of his obligations to the revolution, all the while hoping that his intentions are never considered less than honourable by his comrades. He wears only the mask of anarchy, if you will, a facade beneath which lies the reality of his duplicitous, cowardly and selfish intentions – intentions which lead to the death of poor Lionello, the bedding of the innocent and pure Francesca and a suicide mission that leaves the ideal-driven Brothers waging a revolution against the Bourbons without a single weapon to their name! Naturally, as each of his plans come to naught, Fulvio finds himself in Sicily, cravenly fighting to secure his own escape from the impending massacre.

Whilst it’s fair to say that some knowledge of this tumultuous period in Italian history may be helpful, in reality, Allonsanfàn is an all too familiar story that sees the Taviani brothers deliver a cynical message on universal politics. Said to be written as a means to exorcise the personal disillusionment they felt after the revolutionary events of May 1968 were not seized upon, Allonsanfàn takes no prisoners. It could be argued that, with the Brothers’ consistently naive faith in Fulvio and the revolution (to the extent that they genuinely believe victory can be achieved against armed forces when they themselves are unarmed; their reliance upon their belief that the choleric people of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies will join their march and fight alongside them), the film is highly critical of left wing figures and their idealogy, condemning them as gullible, innocent fools, their actions tragically, farcically futile. But look at the alternative the Taviani’s present us in the character of Fulvio. Granted, he is the film’s protagonist, but it’s clear that the Taviani’s do not intend the audiences to feel empathy with this coldly calculating, blatant coward. He is, as Mastroianni himself said, a “typical anti-hero character” and, politically, 1970s Italy was a time of anti-heroes and left wing revolutionary causes. The Taviani’s are definitely drawing parallels here with contemporary society and that of the 19th century. It’s in the great actor Mastroianni’s committment to playing such roles that keeps our engagement with Fulvio, despite his appalling actions, and with Allonsanfàn in general. His eventual fate is surprisingly moving, though wholly – and suitably – ironic.

Allonsanfàn is a beautiful, lavish film as befits the period drama genre. There’s a lot of earthy hues and tones on display, but the Taviani’s contrast this with splashes of colour, most notably in the Garibaldini-style scarlet red shirts worn by the Brothers and in several curious scenes that see the screen awash with a sickly green filter. Such peculiar fantasy often rears its head across the movie, with a sequence in which Fulvio tells Massimiliano a bedtime story about a demon toad beyond their bedroom door concluding with Fulvio himself mistaking a servant for the toad, the Taviani’s cross-fading from a close-up of the exaggerated amphibian to the innocuous old aide. The movie also boast a dynamic score from the prolific Ennio Morricone, with its main theme, ‘Rabbia e tarantella’, being immediately familiar to audiences as it was subsequently adopted by Quentin Tarantino for the closing credits of his 2009 WWII epic Inglorious Basterds.

Radiance’s release includes a brand new 2K restoration of the film from its original negative, an audio commentary by Michael Brooke, an hour long archive interview featuring the Taviani brothers, conducted by Gideon Bachmann, and a trailer. The set also contains a Limited edition booklet featuring new writing by Italian cinema expert Robert Lumley and a newly translated contemporary interview with the Taviani brothers, plus a reversible sleeve featuring designs based on the film’s original posters.

Mark’s Archive – AllonSanfan (1974)