Viva Italia! Four of Hollywood's Italian Fantasies of the Fifties and Sixties

Viva Italia!

Three Coins in the Fountain

As a young American girl growing addicted to classic films, I couldn't help viewing Europe as some sort of vast land of eternal magic, romantic possibility, and architectural wonder. The classic fairytales -- like Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Thumbelina, the Little Mermaid, Rumpelstiltskin, and Hansel & Gretel -- were all steeped in the European tradition. The adventures of Robin Hood, the Three Musketeers, The Prince & the Pauper, King Arthur, Pinocchio -- these stories came from England, France and Italy. To me, Europe was a Disneyfied fairyland, full of castles and moats, princesses and princes who rescued and adored them, deep forests full of witches and wizards, elves and knights. As I got older, that impression of Europe (the great and destructive colonizer that is is) has definitely matured, but I still love the magic of these movies.

As escapism, Hollywood's portrayal of The Old World is ideal. It's still the place of royalty and romance, judging by the heightened fantasies and technicolor adventures presented in the studio films of the 1950s. Many of these screen gems were targeted to women, and though I'm of another generation and another race, I was not immune. For instance, I feel like I've already seen most of what Rome has to offer in the way of historic sights, thanks to so many of these European travelogue stories.

Here are a couple of Americans In Italy tales from the Golden Age of Hollywood.

1. Rome Adventure from 1962 features fresh faced Suzanne Pleshette as Prudence Bell, a young American who is forced from her job as a librarian at an exclusive girls school because of her freethinking ways. Seems she has kept a banned novel about young love on the shelves, skirting the parameters of what the school board feels is 1950s decency for young ladies. So Prudence travels to Italy to experience life for herself, and immediately meets another young American graduate student staying at the same pensione, preppy dreamboat Don Porter (Troy Donahue). The two are quickly drawn to each other, and so begins a clandestine courtship conducted against a backdrop of gorgeous Italian vistas: curbside cafes, jazz clubs deep inside caverns (where New Orleans trumpeter Al Hirt holds sway), rustic village farmers markets, and alpine lakeside chalets.

Prudence is ripe to go all the way with Don -- something we take for granted today but in the 60s was a somewhat controversial move for a "nice" girl -- then discovers that he hasn't quite shaken his previous girlfriend, a needy, manipulative glamorpuss played by Angie Dickinson. Heartbroken, confused, and not wanting to miss her opportunity to become a "real woman" abroad, Prudence offers herself up to Roberto, the suave older Italian man (Rossano Brazzi) who tried to romance her when she first arrived. But wise Roberto knows true love when he sees it, and quickly reunites her with Don for a happy ending.

Rome Adventure is as much about the beauty, history, architecture and customs of Italy as it is about love, and these attributes are also stressed in a previous fluffy international screen romp.

2. Three Coins in the Fountain, from 1954, also features the eternal suave Italian, Rossano Brazzi. In this story, three American women share a flat in Rome for work and find love along the way. Dorothy McGuire pines after the eminent but reclusive American novelist she works for as a secretary; Jean Peters, who has a fiance waiting for her Stateside, agrees to a jaunt into the countryside with coworker Brazzi and soon finds herself falling for him; and spunky young Maggie McNamaraa, newly arrived, hatches a scheme to nail down a notorious Italian playboy prince (French charmer Louis Jourdan).

The plot is classic boilerplate (Where The Boys Are, How To Marry A Millionaire), but oh, the Trevi Fountain, the public monuments and sculptures, the Spanish Steps, the Colosseum, the pensiones, museums, and outdoor cafes! The colors, flavors, landcapes and vibrancy of post-war Rome are hard to resist, photographed in Technicolor. (Roman Holiday from 1952, starring Audrey Hepburn as an incognito princess and Gregory Peck as an American newspaperman, also showed all of the charms of Rome -- but in black and white.)

Italy is also shown to advantage in a pair of films that are slightly less sunshine and lollipops, and focus more on the romantic hopes and dreams of women in middle age.

3. A Light in the Piazza (1964) is a beautifully photographed bittersweet tale about Meg Johnson (Olivia de Havilland), a woman on holiday in Italy with her 26-year-old daughter Clara, played by blonde bombshell Yvette Mimieux. Clara is beautiful and vivacious, but has the mental capacity of a 10-year-old after being kicked in the head by a horse at that age. Clara's condition has driven a wedge between Meg and her tobacco executive husband Noel, who wants Clara put into a "special place" so that they can get their marriage on track. On their excursions around town, Clara draws the attention of a young Italian, Fabrizio (played by a young George Hamilton); though Meg tries to thwart the courtship, Fabrizio is persistent and soon Clara is obsessed with him. The two seem to truly understand and care for each other, to Meg's surprise. Fabrizio insists that the Johnson women meet his family, who greet them with open arms and see Clara's innocence as refreshing. Meg never tells the Naccarellis, who are clearly hoping for a wedding, about her daughter's condition.

Now Meg is faced with some major decisions. Can her daughter, whom she loves so much, be truly happy and successful as Fabrizio's wife? Should she defy and deceive Noel, who has no idea how serious the romance has become, by marrying her off without his knowledge? And, with Fabrizio's handsome father (Rossano Brazzi, naturally) making casual Continental overtures to her, Meg ponders her own life as a woman, a wife, and a good mother. De Havilland is marvelous, her big brown eyes reflecting every competing emotion and her sense that Italy itself is influencing her; its beautiful and seductive environment create love, desire, and a sense of drifting along (something also noted about Italy by characters in each of these films). As Clara, in bridal white, leaves the Italian church arm in arm with her groom, Meg assures herself: "I did the right thing."


4. The enchantments of Rome can also become a siren song that lead some to dash themselves on the rocks. So it seems in The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone (1961); an adaptation of a Tennessee Williams story, it can't help but be tragic.

American stage actress Karen Stone (a searing Vivien Leigh) has taken up residence in a gorgeous Roman penthouse. She framed it as an extended holiday with her husband, but she has escaped here from London to avoid middling reviews for her stagecraft and newspaper gossip that she's over the hill. To make things worse, her husband died of a heart attack on the flight, and now she is alone and emotionally adrift. Despite her best efforts to remain apart from the seamier side of Rome, she attracts attention as a wealthy widow of a certain age. Soon Karen is introduced by a moneygrubbing acquaintance, the Contessa (German legend Lotte Lenya), to Paolo, a handsome gigolo some 20 years her junior, played by Warren Beatty (sporting a similar look and similar fake Italian accent as George Hamilton in Piazza).

Karen falls for him, shelling out money at every turn even as she knows what he is; Leigh is expert at displaying her character's confusion, desperation, and self-loathing as she falls deeper into Paolo's insidious trap. She has become a ribald joke without a shred of self-respect or dignity left. Leigh is in nearly every scene; the gorgeousness of her costumes and the Italian settings only serve to highlight the heartrending narrative and frightening denouement.

For a more contemporary take on the transformative, seductive powers of Italy, check out director Bernardo Bertolucci's 1996's Stealing Beauty, as 19-year-old Liv Tyler comes to an artist colony in the Tuscan countryside to pose for a painting, and embarks on secret missions to both lose her virginity and find the identity of the father who seduced her now-deceased mother there. Or check out the far more recent Under the Tuscan Sun from 2003, when the charms of Italy lead newly divorced American Diane Lane to leap out of a tour bus to buy and restore an aging Italian villa.

And as recently as this year, a TV reality show titled "To Rome For Love" highlighted a group of black women who travel to Italy to find love with mixed results. Yes, Italy has a tight hold on our imaginations.

Ocean's Eight: Lady Rogues, Charms & Chuckles

Ocean's Eight (2018)
Directed by Gary Ross
starring Sandra Bullock, Cate Blanchett, Anne Hathaway, Helena Bonham-Carter,
Rihanna, Sarah Paulson, Mindy Kaling, Awkwafina, James Corden

Any subsequent entry into a film franchise suffers in comparison to the original.

The first Ocean's 11 that goes back to the swinging '60s is more famous for the off-screen antics of stars Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Angie Dickinson, Peter Lawford and Joey Bishop than its plot, which was a bit loose-limbed, awkward, and downright plodding at times. The charm of Ocean's 11 was the interplay between cast members, most of whom were top concert and film draws and were notorious for their drinking and carousing. As the epitome of that decade's idea of "cool," Sinatra easily led his merry band of funny, distinct hooligans to success at the box office.

It was this sense of wise-cracking cool that infused the 2001 reboot with George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Bernie Mac, Casey Affleck, Scott Caan, Julia Roberts, Don Cheadle and others. So many decades had gone by since the original Sinatra vehicle that the premise seemed fresh. The script allowed each of the eleven to clearly sketch out the parameters of their individual characters, their relationships with each other, and their roles within the heist. Clooney had his winking, criminal-with-a-heart schtick down pat, in a way that seemed to echo the ring-a-ding-ding ease of Sinatra; we believed that he was always looking for the angles in any situation, come hell or high water. As Rusty, Pitt was his unruffled foil, dressed impeccably in every scene and always consuming some sort of edible, a great little actorly detail that defined his character as the one cool head amid chaos. Damon is introduced as a commuting pickpocket drafted by this big league of con artists; his nervousness while playing his part in the big Las Vegas swindle is palpable. And that's another thing the reboot had going for it -- Las Vegas in all its glitzy, ersatz glamour was definitely a character in the story, same as in the original. There are some great moments of verbal and physical comedy in the film: Bernie Mac gripping the hand of the auto dealer and spouting about skin softening agents is priceless (similar to a routine he does as an addled prisoner in the Eddie Murphy flick Life); and the squabbling Laurel & Hardy antics of Affleck & Caan are hilarious. When Danny Ocean pulls together his entire crew, you believe the relationships. There is an easygoing sense of bonhomie about them. They're professional criminals, and for them, pulling off the biggest robbery in Las Vegas is not only dangerous, it's also sheer, edgy fun.

Unfortunately, the new Ocean's Eight has not mastered the same sense of fun. It tries very hard, though.

Maybe I am so much a victim myself of society's harsh judgment of women taking on men's roles that this all-female take on the heist genre feels forced to me. It's a given that women can take on any role, perform any job, and carry a movie. But for this franchise, the question is: Can a woman, even one as attractive and popular as Sandra Bullock, play a charming rogue on the same scale as George Clooney? Should it be on the same scale? Because it purports to be from the same universe, Ocean's Eight sets up that expectation.

Bullock plays Debbie Ocean, who -- as her brother Danny Ocean did at the beginning of Ocean's Eleven -- starts the film being released from prison on parole. And while she is witty and slick, she is not exactly charming. Further, the tone of the film is dampened from the start by the news that Danny Ocean is dead. This fact is not explained, and it casts a pall over all that comes next. Maybe this detail is meant to sever any expectation the audience might have that we'll get to see Danny, and gives Debbie more authority as the spiritual inheritor of everything Danny was while also being a strong player in her own right. However you cut it, his demise is dispiriting. And while the audience comes to understand that the Oceans all have a touch of larceny in their souls, Debbie's interests lie not just in enriching herself and her crew, but revenging herself upon the former lover whose testimony about their art fraud put her in prison. As such, though her anger is justified, her scheme comes across as more crass and contentious than crafty. She wasn't exactly innocent of the crime she was convicted for, and now she seems to have no concerns about being convicted again.

The action of Ocean's Eight is transferred to New York City, which gives it a different feel from the trilogy that centered on Las Vegas and Cannes. And it features a great cast of ladies, no doubt. But as fabulous -- and fabulously dressed -- as Bullock is, she barely holds the center in scenes with smoldering Cate Blanchett as Lou, her restauranteur partner in love and crime. Helena Bonham Carter walks the line between daffy and shrewd as a bottoming out fashion designer who joins the crew, Anne Hathaway is both arch and needy as an A-level young actress who is their dupe, while Sarah Paulson seems a bit out of her element as Debbie's former associate, a con artist, fence, and property master who has retired to the suburbs to play wife and mother. It's nice to see Mindy Kaling on the big screen doing anything at all, but we learn nothing about her other than the fact that she works in a jewelry shop under the thumb of her shrewish mother, and in a scene with Bonham Carter, she mostly just stands there. Also given short shrift, scriptwise, are Rihanna as a dreads-rocking computer hacker named Nineball, and Awkwafina as a street-smart pickpocket. Character development and backstory are both left wanting here. We never find out how any of Debbie's crew first met Debbie or what their history together consists of, and while there was an element of that in the 2001 version, the chemistry between the players never comes together in this outing, and most never get to stretch out.

Also many of the plot elements seem rushed, coincidental, and too easily tied with a bow. Debbie and Lou gain the confidence of their desperate designer a bit too quickly. Sarah Paulson's character is hired on the spot as the "inside man" at Vogue, conveniently just in time to set the ball rolling. Does Lou really have the impeccable credentials as a vegan chef to get a last minute gig at The Met Gala? And the robbery scheme's complication -- the crew suddenly learns they need a unique magnetic tool to unlock the catch on the multimillion dollar necklace they're after -- is addressed so quickly that I completely missed it. And I was sitting there staring at the screen the whole time! The dialogue went rat-a-tat and was over. (A genius solution is apparently provided by Nineball's smarter than smart younger sister, who shows up on screen for less than two minutes then bounces, as Debbie remarks to Nineball, "What do your parents do?") The limits of time and space are circumvented time and again as the characters make costume changes and suddenly appear just where they need to be to pull off the heist. And while all the details must be carefully adhered to, none of the players seem to emit a single drop of sweat in the process.

OK, so it's a heist film. It's supposed to be cool, and outrageous, and it's supposed to test the limits of credibility. And it does all of that, while showcasing some jaw dropping high fashion in the process. The pace is fast and frenetic. There are a few twists. There are a few brief flickers of comedy. There are a couple of celebrity cameos and brief, surprise character tie-ins to the previous films. We are on the edge of our seats as the heist is put in motion. And when an insurance fraud investigator, played by the amiable James Corden, steps in to hunt down the perpetrators, it seems our heroines may be in trouble. (Personally, who is scared of Corden? I would have been more concerned for the girls if the investigator were played by, say ... ass-kicker Jason Statham or someone equally intimidating.) Ocean's Eight has its own charms and chuckles. In the end, as the Bard would say, all's well that ends well.

Until we are reminded, yet again, that Danny Ocean is dead.

Did we really need that coda? I think not. It only reminds us to compare this flick to the ones that came before. That makes the surviving Ocean sibling a Debbie Downer.



[Check out the previous review of Book Club HERE.}