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#07 THE TWELVE LABORS OF HERCULES
05/09/2005
This long-awaited documentary on Elio Petri (1929-1982) comes as a surprise for the young generation and as a relief for older cinephiles. Indeed, the life and work of this great master, presented here in chronological order, is a crucial to the History of cinema as Fellini or Rosselini's films.
His twelve movies, all different, all brilliant, many of which won prizes at the most prestigious film events (Cannes, Berlin, Oscars...), appear not have lost any of their power: the huge crowd who attended the screening in Venice reacted strongly and laughed a lot. Bertolucci, Robert Altman, Ursula Andress, and Dante Ferretti, among many others, remember him as an aesthetical and a political pioneer, and someone whose passion for cinema made no doubt.
Yet, as the critic Aggeo Savioli underlines, 'his cinema was not only about cinema; there was more to it.' Petri was an un-conventional communist, a filmmaker who was proud of the fact that cinema is a deeply popular art form, someone whose freedom was always challenged by defenders of the system, to no avail —that goes without saying. His personality and his art actually cannot be evoked separately, which is why the documentary is so full of great anecdotes told by his collaborators, who were also his dear friends.
Why was this genius and immensely popular filmmaker who worked with Mastroianni, Ennio Morricone, Gian Maria Volonté, Vanessa Redgrave, and Tonino Guerra, cancelled from the collective memory? Why are there so few people who remember that his film I giorni contati beat Jules et Jim in Mar de Plata (1962). That is the question at the core of this documentary, which we can only hope will help 'rehabilitating' this beautiful man's masterpieces.

Interview with Citto Maselli
What do you think of the documentary itself? Is it accurate?
It is kind of difficult for me to have an objective opinion, for I have a similar personal history and I knew him. I resent some lacks. For instance, the film does not insist on how precocious Petri was, politically speaking —he was a true lefty from the beginning, represented the Sovex (Sovietic film export) in Italy, etc.— and of course artistically —he was already here in Venice in 1948, 49, and 50... So things are a bit more complex than they appear to be in the documentary. I also regret the biased angle taken in many interviews; it is a defect we, the authors, have, to be a little narcissistic and speak too much about ourselves. This being said, finally making a film on Petri is a heroic effort. This work does render substantially major aspects of Petri's career. It also shows unexpected sides of the character, such as his great sense of humour, for, while being an extremely sophisticated intellectual, he could be extremely bawdy, as if his sense of humour remained anchored in his deeply popular social background.
The issue at stake here is why Petri was cancelled from our collective memory? He was mostly obliterated by the system, but, as you say in the documentary, maybe other filmmakers are partly responsible?
Indeed, one really wonders for what reason he was forgotten, and my self-criticism is very sincere in this respect. When trade unionists attacked him ferociously, saying that The Working Class Goes to Heaven was dangerous, all of us, all agitprops, should really have defended him. I was not the head of the Author's Society so it was not necessarily my role to speak for Petri. Still, I feel ashamed. I think we filmmakers are all responsible.

Bénédicte Prot
www.cineuropa.org
In the photogallery, pictures by Michele Lamanna


Citto Maselli        Citto Maselli
Citto Maselli        Citto Maselli