Like Maria Falconetti in "The Passion of Joan of Arc", Meryl Streep in "Sophie's Choice" or Gena Rowlands in "A Woman Under the Influence", Guiletta Masina in "Nights of Cabiria" displayed, with a poignant authenticity, the courage to overcome the adversity underlining her vulnerable condition.
Coincidentally, like Gena Rowlands with John Cassavettes, Masina was directed by her husband, Federico Fellini. And I believe this is the key of intimacy that liberates the actress in front of the camera and allows her to express every single emotion with intensity, and no fear of being over-the-top, the man behind the camera takes care of everything. And "Intense" to describe Guiletta Masina's performance is an understatement, so is the very word "performance". Masina lives Cabiria, with an endearing generosity and universal appeal. Rarely have I felt so much empathy toward a character who happens to be a loud-mouth thirty something prostitute.
Cabiria is introduced as a joyful woman living a passionate romance with Giorgio, she kisses him, embraces him, then he suddenly steals her purse and pushes her into the river, where she nearly drowns before being saved by a group of young men. The opening scene is intriguing by its setting, an industrial area far away from the city, and the broad daylight, and its cheerful tone followed by a tragic twist, then an optimistic resolution. Basically, after a first viewing, you simply realize how the first minutes, in their tragicomic aspect; represent the movie in microcosm. But the emotional trap not to fall in is to consider Cabiria as a pathetic woman on which bad luck keep going on, Fellini's film is the chronicles of a series of misfortunes punctuated with optimistic statements about human nature, and it's up to the viewer, to Cabiria, to see the half-filled or half-empty glass.
Cabiria's surprisingly ungrateful reaction after she's rescued is another indication of her unique temperament. She trusts any bad intentioned smooth-talking Don Juan over any genuinely caring person. In the following scene, her best friend Wanda seems very concerned and friendly before being harshly dismissed. Cabiria has the sweetness and the temper of a child, and her tragedy is that she never displays the right reactions at the right time, making the general mood of the film fascinatingly unpredictable. Cabiria never misses an occasion to dance, with her unique charisma; she steals the show and creates an eccentric cheerful mood even inside the prostitute's circle. Her positive attitude is a personal way to rise herself above her condition. As she likes to remind everyone: she owns her house. She has an almost childish way to brag about the fact that she's not like any prostitute. Indeed, we never see her in activity, she embodies the condition of being a prostitute, disdained, insulted, taken advantage of, and her eternal suspicious attitude toward any sign of kindness is an unfortunate professional bias. Both tragic and comic, Cabiria reminded me of two classic movies notorious for having inspired Fellini.
Cabiria's appearance is almost comical, she's short but doesn't embarrass herself with high heels, instead she has these white socks worn with very unlikely sandals, and eyebrows a la Mickey Mouse. During the Mambo part, every eyes stare at her. She dances and moves a bit like Chaplin in "Modern Times", Cabiria is a sort of female clown with the right mix of pathos and burlesque, the Tramp with the umbrella as cane-like accessory. And when she gets in the beautiful house of the rich movie star, and he starts developing a fondness on her, we expect a disillusion to come, like the Tramp with the Rich Man in "City lights". Mickey Mouse or Charlie Chaplin, Cabiria is the female incarnation of the universally appealing figure of "little fellow who does his best" in a quite hostile world. The music of Nino Rota embodies the playful mood of Cabiria's misadventures until the sense of urgency in her quest of a new life started to remind of another masterpiece: De Sica's "Bicycle Thieves". Like the new bicycle changed Ricci's life, a new love would transform Cabiria, and the desperation growing deeper and stronger as indicated in that scene where she joins the pilgrims and asks the Virgin Mary to change her life, was a powerful reminiscence of Ricci visiting the Wise Woman.
This is the dilemma that inhabits "Nights of Cabiria", romantic or realistic. When after having been so mistreated during a magic show Cabiria was approached by the kind accountant Oscar, played by François Périer, I wanted her to keep her guard up. And as he seemed genuinely in love, convincing her after several meetings, to marry him, and leave everything for him, my heart pounded as I was expecting the worst to happen. And then came the climactic scene in the cliff when Cabiria understood Oscar's dark motives, just like Giorgio's, and she started sobbing, my heart literally melted. Cabiria is the quintessential romantic person, in the denial of the world's reality, and the pain in her heart, was her realization that the vision she always tries to reject was true. But she pulled herself together, started walking when a group of happy young people dancing and playing music formed a cheerful parade around her. This was the "City Lights"-like ending the movie needed: the ultimate triumph of the faith in human spirit. Cabiria is like reborn in this scene, her eyebrows are natural, her smile genuine, her wounds healed, as she feels in security again, hence her quick glance at Fellini, behind the camera, or was she simply thanking us, viewers, for loving her?
Kabir' means 'big' or 'powerful' in Arabic, and I wouldn't be surprised, if the name was a derivation from that Semitic epithet. Cabiria is a character defined by a personality that transcends the limits of her tiny little body. Size-wise, she's everything but Cabiria, street-wise, she has one hell of a big mouth and as a human being, her heart is simply gigantic
Coincidentally, like Gena Rowlands with John Cassavettes, Masina was directed by her husband, Federico Fellini. And I believe this is the key of intimacy that liberates the actress in front of the camera and allows her to express every single emotion with intensity, and no fear of being over-the-top, the man behind the camera takes care of everything. And "Intense" to describe Guiletta Masina's performance is an understatement, so is the very word "performance". Masina lives Cabiria, with an endearing generosity and universal appeal. Rarely have I felt so much empathy toward a character who happens to be a loud-mouth thirty something prostitute.
Cabiria is introduced as a joyful woman living a passionate romance with Giorgio, she kisses him, embraces him, then he suddenly steals her purse and pushes her into the river, where she nearly drowns before being saved by a group of young men. The opening scene is intriguing by its setting, an industrial area far away from the city, and the broad daylight, and its cheerful tone followed by a tragic twist, then an optimistic resolution. Basically, after a first viewing, you simply realize how the first minutes, in their tragicomic aspect; represent the movie in microcosm. But the emotional trap not to fall in is to consider Cabiria as a pathetic woman on which bad luck keep going on, Fellini's film is the chronicles of a series of misfortunes punctuated with optimistic statements about human nature, and it's up to the viewer, to Cabiria, to see the half-filled or half-empty glass.
Cabiria's surprisingly ungrateful reaction after she's rescued is another indication of her unique temperament. She trusts any bad intentioned smooth-talking Don Juan over any genuinely caring person. In the following scene, her best friend Wanda seems very concerned and friendly before being harshly dismissed. Cabiria has the sweetness and the temper of a child, and her tragedy is that she never displays the right reactions at the right time, making the general mood of the film fascinatingly unpredictable. Cabiria never misses an occasion to dance, with her unique charisma; she steals the show and creates an eccentric cheerful mood even inside the prostitute's circle. Her positive attitude is a personal way to rise herself above her condition. As she likes to remind everyone: she owns her house. She has an almost childish way to brag about the fact that she's not like any prostitute. Indeed, we never see her in activity, she embodies the condition of being a prostitute, disdained, insulted, taken advantage of, and her eternal suspicious attitude toward any sign of kindness is an unfortunate professional bias. Both tragic and comic, Cabiria reminded me of two classic movies notorious for having inspired Fellini.
Cabiria's appearance is almost comical, she's short but doesn't embarrass herself with high heels, instead she has these white socks worn with very unlikely sandals, and eyebrows a la Mickey Mouse. During the Mambo part, every eyes stare at her. She dances and moves a bit like Chaplin in "Modern Times", Cabiria is a sort of female clown with the right mix of pathos and burlesque, the Tramp with the umbrella as cane-like accessory. And when she gets in the beautiful house of the rich movie star, and he starts developing a fondness on her, we expect a disillusion to come, like the Tramp with the Rich Man in "City lights". Mickey Mouse or Charlie Chaplin, Cabiria is the female incarnation of the universally appealing figure of "little fellow who does his best" in a quite hostile world. The music of Nino Rota embodies the playful mood of Cabiria's misadventures until the sense of urgency in her quest of a new life started to remind of another masterpiece: De Sica's "Bicycle Thieves". Like the new bicycle changed Ricci's life, a new love would transform Cabiria, and the desperation growing deeper and stronger as indicated in that scene where she joins the pilgrims and asks the Virgin Mary to change her life, was a powerful reminiscence of Ricci visiting the Wise Woman.
This is the dilemma that inhabits "Nights of Cabiria", romantic or realistic. When after having been so mistreated during a magic show Cabiria was approached by the kind accountant Oscar, played by François Périer, I wanted her to keep her guard up. And as he seemed genuinely in love, convincing her after several meetings, to marry him, and leave everything for him, my heart pounded as I was expecting the worst to happen. And then came the climactic scene in the cliff when Cabiria understood Oscar's dark motives, just like Giorgio's, and she started sobbing, my heart literally melted. Cabiria is the quintessential romantic person, in the denial of the world's reality, and the pain in her heart, was her realization that the vision she always tries to reject was true. But she pulled herself together, started walking when a group of happy young people dancing and playing music formed a cheerful parade around her. This was the "City Lights"-like ending the movie needed: the ultimate triumph of the faith in human spirit. Cabiria is like reborn in this scene, her eyebrows are natural, her smile genuine, her wounds healed, as she feels in security again, hence her quick glance at Fellini, behind the camera, or was she simply thanking us, viewers, for loving her?
Kabir' means 'big' or 'powerful' in Arabic, and I wouldn't be surprised, if the name was a derivation from that Semitic epithet. Cabiria is a character defined by a personality that transcends the limits of her tiny little body. Size-wise, she's everything but Cabiria, street-wise, she has one hell of a big mouth and as a human being, her heart is simply gigantic