We always come back to the Godfather. In spite of the long history of Italian cinema’s portrayal of the mafia, dating back to the strange and sinister In The Name Of The Law (1949), and Rosi’s dramatic Hands Over The City (1963), still we return for our mafia clichés, to the Godfather. Perhaps those early films were too dark, their portrayal of organized crime too far from what we expect. Francis Ford Coppola’s 1972 classic gives us a memorable dramatis personae, some wonderful lines (“Leave the gun. Take the cannoli”); heroes we can bet on.
The Law Of Courage (‘Il Giudice Ragazzino’), 1994, based on the life and death of the young incorruptible judge, Rosario Livatino, was a beautiful portrait of the impossibility of heroism in Sicily. A truly humble person who confronts the mafia and still drives without an armed escort isn’t recognised as a hero until he is murdered. The banality of a gunshot puts an end to nights of terror, silent threats, messages and gestures.
Films about the Sicilian mafia have a great backdrop: Sicily’s dramatic mountains, rocky shorelines, picturesque small towns and dark church interiors provide a beguiling backdrop to the violence, threatened or real, of everyday life.
Sicily, tragically, is not short of heroes, but one of the most extraordinary figures of the anti-mafia campaign is Peppino Impastato, a young man of spellbinding creativity and courage whose radio programmes satirized the mafia boss who lived just a short walk from his house in Cinisi, west of Palermo. One Hundred Steps (I Cento Passi, directed by Marco Tullio Giordana, 2000) is an extraordinary portrait of the relationship between a father imbroiled in the mafia, and his rebellious son. Peppino was passionately opposed to the mafia’s destruction of the town and degradation of all who had dealings with it – including his father.
Impastato’s death was a terrible act of violence: he was hauled, unconscious, onto a railway line with a bomb strapped to his body. Police were quick to say he was plotting a terrorist act, but his friends, his mother and fellow campaigners worked tirelessly to expose the cover-up and after 24 years his killer was convicted.
But this is Sicily, and as usual, there are more layers to be uncovered in this crime. As the trial of the century grinds on, exposing the links between mafia and state (the “trattativa” or The Deal), evidence has emerged that Peppino Impastato had information about the murder of two carabinieri at Alcamo Marina in 1976. He had made a radio programme about it, but the night of his death, the files were removed from his house.
Journalist Ivan Vadori has made a documentary, The Voice of Impastato, about what Peppino knew, featuring interviews with his brother, and the magistrates, writers and journalists who have looked into the case. No lovely shots of Sicily here, no romanticisation of death on the rocks. We are listening to voices: from the past, which have urgent impact on the present. The film closes with an actor speaking the biting satirical lines Peppino Impastato broadcast nearly 40 years ago.
Pierfrancesco Diliberto (known as Pif) is a TV presenter, writer and comedian born in Sicily. His film about the mafia’s impact on a boy’s life (The Mafia Only Kills In Summer) is a refreshing look at the events of the “years of lead” in Palermo, when the mafia declared open war on the judges, police investigators and journalists that opposed it. He interweaves to great effect the romantic exploits of a boy growing up in the city with real footage of the “illustrious” murders that spattered the pavements with blood, shattered windscreens and despair. We’ve seen the footage a thousand times, but to see it through the eyes of a child is newly devastating. Diliberto’s character is no hero, he’s a lovable clown, but the events exploding around him drag him into consciousness. The screwball elements of this film recall Roberta Torre’s To Die For Tano (Tano Da Morire, 1997), filmed in the bowels of Palermo’s market, its energy and humour pure Palermo, its slapstick comedy always a hair’s breadth from violence.
I am very pleased to be introducing Ivan Vadori and Pierfrancesco Diliberto’s films at Riverside Studios next week (24 July 6.30), and interviewing the directors, with the Italian journalist Marco Varvello, as part of Italian Cinema London. We’ll see if we can shake the Godfather’s hold on the popular imagination.