There’s not much in the way of plot. As a protagonist Levi spends most his time wandering and observing and takes no part in any cause and effect structure as the events that have took him there have already happened. In the final third we get something approaching a plot when Levi, after been told he can’t practice medicine is convinced by the peasants to do so, but must convince the mayor to allow him, but even here Levi isn’t the central player that pushes events forward. Instead it’s just a sublimely photographed nostalgic paean to a part of Italy that doesn’t exist anymore, where nothing much happens except for inside of Levi‘s heart. It opens with Levi (Gian Maria Volonte), an old man, looking at his paintings of unknown people (later revealed to be the people he left behind) and talking of his regret that he never went back to what he calls “my Peasants”, a people who are “not swayed by what men call history”. Then we are transported via his memories to 1935, but this could be any year because this is the impoverished south of Italy, and as Levi has already told us, history is obsolete here. It starts with his journey to the town he later names ‘Gagliano’, first he’s watching the fields pass by from the seat of a train, later he takes a bus, then a car; there is a sense of travelling backwards through time as expressed through the devolution of his transport. On the way he is adopted by an abandoned dog, Barone. It’s a sign of the poverty of the area but also that that very poverty, and the nature that goes hand in hand with it, is going to cling to Levi whether he likes it or not, and he in turn will come to accept it. The town, when he arrives, is set out from a hillside, almost like it was grown instead of constructed, and is little changed since medieval times: animals are free to roam and the peasants seem to wander aimlessly. We hardly actually see anybody working, it‘s as if the whole place is contaminated with lethargy and carelessness. It‘s a lifestyle Levi himself takes up with nothing else for him to do except walk around, observe and drop-in on the locals (but he never stays long). The house where he stays, like most of the houses, is bare and unfurnished except for chairs, beds and a table, it‘s another example of the bludgeoning poverty. He then has explained to him by a tax collector how people are so poor that sometimes all he can take off them is bottles of oil as they have nothing else. Early on Levi rests in a dug grave to hide from the heat. It’s a telling scene implying he is so aghast at the place that Hell would be better, but you get the feeling that if he dug down he wouldn’t find Hell but something far worse and ancient but yet more humble. Levi’s concerns seem to be confirmed when he meets the town’s mayor (Paolo Bonacelli) who tells him not to trust anyone as their spiritual beliefs make them distrustful of people, and that malaria is rife - something we later find out he was told didn’t exist in the area. The mayor then introduces some characters such as the two useless doctors he will replace and the town priest who‘s in his own form of exile. It’s also revealed that the town is home to many political prisoners but none are allowed to speak to each other and we hardly see them. This means that Levi has no one in common to help him stick to his old ways and must become completely engrossed in the simple life of the area. The mayor acts as Levi’s opposite. He is the embodiment of fascism and is something of a lightly comic character fully representing, in an exaggerated form, all the things about it Rosi so obviously hates (I doubt that Levi in his book would have exaggerated the character so much for political purposes considering it‘s autobiographical nature, but I don’t know for sure). In one instance he says “I’m the mayor, I’m above the law!” to a young assistant, showing the corruption and megalomania that are so inherent within the system. The mayor likes to see himself as the equal to the intellectual Levi and plays up to him telling him he is a gentlemen compared to the other political prisoners, and you get the feeling in their conversations that the mayor wants the same respect off Levi, but he is none the less harsh is his censorship of Levi’s letters and reading materials, and this relationship provides the closest thing the film has to a conflict, but it‘s not an intense one. Levi eventually comes to see that the place is as anti-fascist as he is, although not through ideology as they have no allegiance to any state or government, but are too a-political to be dubbed anarchists; they simply want to work and get on with their lives. As Levi later argues with the mayor, all governments do is impoverish the town and villages through heavy taxing and care nothing more of them. In one scene they describe how New York feels more like their capital then Rome. They have family in America who send them money but they never get money from the fat cats in the rich Italian cities. They argue that Napoli is closer to being their capital because of its poverty, and therefore situational kinship. We never actually hear any of the villagers describe themselves as Italian which contrasts with a speech we hear from Mussolini where he declares a growing Italy of “Civilization, honesty and work.” None of these are present here (The village is medieval, no one seems to work, and they certainly aren’t honest). There are two Italy’s and Rosi makes it clear which he prefers and misses the most and implies fascism didn’t just exclude on race and nationality, but also class. The title comes from the peasants’ ascertains that Christ never travelled further south then Eboli (a place to the North of Gagliano), meaning that the Christian teachings never pierced as far as them. This though is one of the many contradictions that make the peasants unique. They are Christians in a sense; they have a church and a ruined cathedral near by, there is a priest, but it’s a bastardized form of Christianity, not worshipped outright but incorporated into their own pagan-like ways and ancient beliefs much like what happened with the Celts. They speak of Angels and Demons but as if they were fairies or evil pixies, the lexicon and images the only real indications of Christianity. There are also traces of Islam with the villages attitude towards women. The fashions seem based on clothes of the Muslim world and the single women are not allowed to be in the presence of single men (which poses a problem for Levi when he requires a maid). It’s as if the village picks up certain aspects of what has happened around it throughout time, but has never been directly influenced by any of it. It’s all hard for Levi to accept at first. When he reveals he trained as a doctor he is pushed into it reluctantly although he has never practised, but he can’t exercise the peasants ways such as when he visits an ill women and gets into an argument over her belief that a coin on her forehead relieves her pain. You can say they are a-religious as well as a-political, yet they have survived here without technology and progress and are immune to the passage of time and yet are somehow more true to humanity then the developed world. Levi says that he “feel as if I’ve lived here all my life” yet we have no long how much time has passed because the village is immune to its passing. Rosi lets the native colours of the landscape predominate, starting unremarkable but getting starker throughout as Levi’s heart warms to the wonders of his large prison and he comes to see it as the true Italy (something the colour palette enforces). The architecture consists of all whites and blues and greens and yellows possess the landscape, all naturalistic colours. The colour red, said to represent the blood spilt in the wars of independence on the Italian flag is hardly present except for on the bed sheet of the bed opposite Levi’s. It’s an indication of how the locals neither want war nor feel it is of any of their concern; the wars aren’t fought for their sake as they explain to Levi when Mussolini takes Italy to war in Abyssinia and only one person from the village, a young boy, enlists. The mayor at one point argues they are trying to fight for new land for the peasants but as one of them points out, the state spends a fortune on fighting wars but won’t spend any money to maintain the upkeep of the areas they already have. It’s ironic how one of the men who sleeps in the bed with the red sheets is a well off man from a large town. He says he knows people and will try and get Levi out of his exile and to Turin but nothing is ever heard from him again. It’s an example of the lies and hypocrisy of the part of Italy Rosi, and the peasants, so hate. One of the aspects that don’t quite work is in Volonte’s performance as Levi. He walks around with a constant look of amusement on his face, which never changes throughout the whole film and rarely looks serious. From the performance you get a sense that Levi goes from a feeling of inconvenience to snobbish respect, whilst Rosi’s direction implies despair to adoration and the two don’t match whereas they should go hand in hand. Also we’re never really sure when Levi starts to begin his acceptance of the peasants and their ways. He doesn’t seem to object to the place when he arrives and is incredibly polite, no hint of misery within him. We can tell when he has fully integrated himself within the community as he goes to dinners and gets a house where he begins to paint, but there is a lack of any gradual transition. Luckily Rosi is talented enough to present the feeling aesthetically, and Volonte is by no means awful, but doesn‘t get across the negative feelings when he needs to. It’s not a masterpiece. The camera work is remarkable in it’s subtlety, except for a few shots that break the mood purposefully, but lacks any real innovation, and as I have said, Volonte is average and his growth comes in leaps and bounds instead of steadily. It doesn’t drag which is a an achievement for any film over three hours, but it lacks any real narrative engagement. It is just, simply put, lovely. The photography is always beautiful, especially a shot towards the end, an extended tracking shot of the bright yellow fields whilst Mussolini’s victory speech is played over the top like light against dark. It’s as if Rosi is pointing out that there’s no need to fight for new territory when you have pure beauty right on your doorstep. Lewis Carter |
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Based on the famous autobiographical book by the anti-fascist Italian writer Carlo Levi about his exile within Italy to a forgotten village, Christ Stopped At Eboli was originally adapted by Francesco Rosi for Italian television. It was then re-cut for the cinema and a 120 minute version released in America. Thankfully the U.K. version I have seen is 200 minutes and closer to the original Italian cut (bar about 20 minutes).
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