Any list of my favorite movies will include, in no particular order, The Shawshank Redemption, Braveheart, The Usual Suspects, Glengarry Glen Ross, and Life is Beautiful. Some of these movies are so well written, so cleverly constructed, or such epic stories executed so well that they have stood out as memorable and favorites. But some art is so sweet, so heartbreakingly lovely, that it’s almost too hard to describe. When that artistic medium is film, it’s even more rare because films that try to achieve that often go over the line, reach too far, and fall into schmaltz. But this last movie I listed is pitch perfect. Life is Beautiful doesn’t reach too far; it is meant to mix satire with drama, comedy with romance.
First of all, the movie is in Italian. If you’ve never seen it, go for the subtitled movie as opposed to the version dubbed in English: so much of this movie is in the subtext of the way words are said and their tone, and this gets lost in the dubbed version. I tried watching it dubbed once and it felt like when I was 8 and tried to put on and walk in my dad’s shoes – it was clumsy and not very fun after a few seconds. Subtitles might be a bit of an adjustment if you’re not used to them, but it will only take a short time to become acclimated.
This movie takes place in Italy and Germany from just before the start of World War II through to the end of the war. And with such a brutal and violent backdrop, this movie is ostensibly a love story. Actually, it’s two love stories. The first half of the film details the love story between a man and a woman, while the second half of the movie is the love story about that same man’s love for his son.
It is in the telling of these love stories and the devices that are used to tell them where the beauty of the movie lies. Love stories are a dime a dozen. But told in 1930s Italy with street cars and grand hotels and bolts of red silk being unfurled down rain-soaked steps is…just…sublime. Running gags with cars and hats and flying keys and broken eggs seem at first to be simple, funny devices that, frankly, are even funnier if you know any Italians personally. These gags come together, however, in a way that is not only sweet, but endearing and (probably because the lead actor and actress are actually married in real life) rings true. The second half of the movie takes place a few years later, when the man and woman from the first half of the movie now have a son, and are living their lives, even as the spectre of the war continues to build. Then in one scene after another, the beauty that was built in the first half becomes dismantled as the war finally sweeps them up in it. I won’t go into too much detail here, as not to deprive you of the emotional experience of seeing it if you haven’t. What I will say is that the same devotion and thoughtfullness the man showed the woman he was pursuing in the first half is equally present when comforting and protecting his son in the second half. Without giving anything away, what I didn’t expect the first time I saw the film was the way some of the themes – both dramatic and musical – from the first half would show up in the second half. I think it’s safe to say that you just might remember Offenbach for some time after this movie.
This movie is small, without being self-conscious. It is authentic, without being condescending. And it is a throw-back to the comedies and dramas of the 50s & 60s, with storytelling and cinematography that feels both vintage and modern. In my list of favorite movies at the beginning of the article, you’ll find extended, bloody battles, prison beatings, explosions, mysterious criminals and a tirade of swearing in Glengarry the likes of which I’ve never heard in any other movie – and they’re all SUCH great movies. In Life is Beautiful, there is none of that, and it’s equally great. For that, I am grateful.
