BFI Top 50: L’Avventura, Released in 1960, Directed by Michelangelo Antonioni

What I know going in

Not much, I know the film vaguely concerns the disappearance of a woman and her friend’s attempts to find her. This will also be my first Antonioni film, so I’m curious to see what he is all about.

 

Quotes

Patrizia: Islands I don’t get them, surrounded by nothing but water poor things.

 

Anna: Instead I think we should talk about it. Or are you convinced that even between us we are unable to understand one another?

Sandro: We’ll have so much time to talk. We’re getting married. What’s more time than a lifetime?

Anna: Under these circumstances getting married would mean nothing. Aren’t we already acting as if we were married? Giulia and Corrado, aren’t they living as though they were married?

Sandro: Why should we be here talking, arguing? Believe me Anna, words are becoming less and less necessary, they create misunderstandings.

 

Immediate Reaction

Near the beginning of L’Avventura one of the minor characters, Patrizia, played by Esmeralda Suspoli, states the following: “Islands, I don’t get them, surrounded by nothing but water, poor things.” Technically she is talking about the rocky peaks jutting out of the Mediterranean Sea, but she may as well be referring to humans surrounding her. The characters in the film are totally isolated from each other, lost, and incapable of conveying their true emotions. Antonioni does a masterful job of conveying this visually during the first portion of the film. The characters sometimes appear in danger of fading into the background, as if their passion for life is so dampened that they no longer have the will to differentiate themselves from their surroundings. During a few moments in the film, the cinematography takes on a faded quality where the sky, the sea, clothing, and skin almost become the same indistinguishable shade of gray.

 

The central plot point of the film is the disappearance of Anna, Lea Massari, the best friend of Claudia, Monica Vitti, and the fiancée of Sandro, Gabriele Ferzetti. She is gone almost immediately after having an argument with Sandro. This sudden tragedy forces a million questions through the other characters’ heads. Is she a playing a silly game to get back at Sandro? Did she slip and fall on the rocks? Did she accidentally drown? Did she leave of her own accord? Was she kidnapped? Did she commit suicide? Perhaps she was just so burned out from the apathy surrounding her future marriage that the imposing environment swallowed her up? The film refuses to answer these questions. The weirdest part is that the characters don’t seem anymore lost after this incident than before, and they are shockingly quick to move back to old habits.

 

The most disturbing of these habits is Sandro’s uncomfortable pursuit of Claudia. Not only does he at first force himself onto her, but there is also the disturbing subtext that he is simply replacing Anna with Claudia. Both have a similar look, and I was actually confused which one was played by Vitti at the beginning. This undercurrent continues in the film’s final act when Sandro makes love to a dark-haired ingénue who also resembles Anna.Sandro pursues Claudia aggressively, and at first she rejects him, but she eventually relents. Again, this brings up so many questions. Why is Sandro so quick to forget Anna? Why is he attracted to Claudia? Why does Claudia become attracted to him? None of these questions are answered, which can be a bit a frustrating for the viewer. However, I think a quote from Sandro can help explain why the film takes this path. During his time on the island he states: “Why should we be here talking, arguing? Believe me Anna, words are becoming less and less necessary, they create misunderstandings.” Sandro, and by extension the film, seems to be stating that humans are incapable of communication. Sandro and Claudia’s romance is never explained because it can’t be explained. Human language is not advanced enough to convey the complex, confusing, conflicting emotions of the two leads. Mind reading would be necessary to truly decipher their motivations.

 

Further thoughts

The Criterion release of L’Avventurabegins with a short statement from the film’s premiere at the 1960 Cannes Film Festival, during which it was awarded the Jury Prize for: “The beauty of its image and creating a new method of visual storytelling.” Similarly, many of the reviews I read stated that L’Avventura returned moviemaking to the majesty of the silent era. They also delved into how Antonioni’s backgrounds reflect the psyche of his characters. I did not understand either of these praises after my first viewing. To be sure, there are plenty of striking images in L’Avventura, but comparing it to silent film? It does not have the bigness and boldness of a Metropolis or the dynamic fluidity of The General. Furthermore, almost every review I read mentioned Antonioni’s use of space, but few, except for Matthew Dessem’s Criterion Contraption articles, gave explicit examples.

 

Luckily, Criterion provided an excellent commentary by Gene Youngblood explaining why the film was so revelatory and helping to unpack the subtle way architecture and space is used in the film. After processing his thoughts, the symbols that so eluded on my first viewing now seem incredibly obvious. For example after Anna and Sandro have their argument on the island, Antonio uses a dissolve to transition to the next scene. On the surface, there is nothing about it that stands out. However, watching it again, I noticed that Anna dissolves before Sandro and before the environment. There is a second where she has disappeared, but her boyfriend and the environment remain. In the next scene, the other characters call out to her, and begin their ultimately futile search. In this sequence, Antonioni has used the grammer of film, in this case editing, not only to create a neat connection to the plot, but also to suggest the weakness of Anna’s personality.

 

The commentary also helped me pick up on how architecture is used in the film. The best example of this comes at the end of the film. Anna has just witnessed Sandro making love to the young ingénue. Anna runs out of the building, and begins to cry in front of a ruined building. She then stares blankly at a tree as the wind whistles ominously through it. I doubt I need to explain how these images reflect Claudia’s current state. They are so evocative that I simply need to point them out. This expressiveness continues to even the final shot. Sandro is aligned with a blank wall (a little harsh no?) and Claudia is aligned with Mount Etna, which I learned is a dormant volcanoe. This last, glorious moment reveals the buried heart of the film. Claudia, who is dry-eyed at this point, has worked though her issues of identity and realized the true nature of the fickle Sandro. She has come out stronger and will not fade like her lost friend.

Why is the film on this list?

Talking through the film like this has put me in total agreement with that Cannes quote. L’Avventure earns its place in history for fully embodying that old Hollywood mantra “show don’t tell.”