Luchino Visconti inherited his aristocratic look, and probably his fine touch as a film director, from his noble descent. His house, Visconti di Modrone, is one of the noblest and more ancient of Italy. It ruled Milan in the Renaissance. The name itself means “viscount”, but the house also includes dukes and marquises.
Senso (1954)
The story develops in the historical background of the third Italian Independence War (1866). The Reign of Italy had been proclaimed in 1861, but the region Veneto was still ruled by the Austrian Empire. The third Independence War was successfully faught to free Veneto.
In this frame a tormented passion flourishes between the Italian countess Livia Serpieri, played by Alida Valli, and the Austrian officer Franz Mahler, played by Farley Granger. Knowing the meticulous precision of Visconti, I presume that the selection of the officer’s name was not accidental. It recalls the Austrian composer Gustav Mahler, whose “Adagietto” from his Fifth Symphony flows throughout another Visconti’s film, “Death in Venice”. Moreover, Mahler has been a student of Bruckner, whose 7th Symphony was chosen as the film soundtrack.
The storyboard has significantly broadened the short tale by Camillo Boito (brother of the composer Arrigo Boito) underlying to it.
An oppressive sense of impending tragedy accompanies the unwinding of the clandestine relationship between the married Countess and her Austrian lover, until the betrayal of the man causes his ruin.
The affair between Livia and Franz is unbalanced. While Livia is deeply in love with the officer, he sees her as a caprice: another woman to seduce and drop with cynical indifference. He doen’t even bother to tell her their presumed love is over: he just vanishes. After looking for him a number of times, Livia gives up and tries to forget him.
The political circumstances suggest Livia’s husband to leave Venice and settle in a country villa with his family. After some time, Franz secretly joins Livia at the villa. He needs money and plans to reconquer Livia’s trust to charme money out of her. Livia reminds him they are no longer in Venice and things have changed since then, in an attempt to convince him, but mostly herself, that their affair is over. Then Franz unabashedly pretends to have never stopped loving her, and that he disappeared just because he was frightened by the strength of his love. This is clearly a huge nonsense, but Livia is so clouded by her heart that she buys all of the man’s lies. Franz reveals that he needs money to bribe a doctor who can discharge him for health reasons. He astutely lets Livia have a flash of the awful consequences her refusal to finance his plan could bring him: death or mutilation and subsequently a miserable life. Terrified by this dreadful picture, Livia gives Franz the money she received in custody from the Italian patriots.
Some days later Livia gets a letter from Franz by which he informs her that he has been discharged and has settled down in Verona; however, he begs her not to come, because the travel to Verona is too dangerous, pending the war.
But Livia leaves anyway. As she comes to Mahler’s house in Verona, she catches him in company of a prostitute, with whom he is squandering the money left. So Livia decides to denounce him, handing over the letter proving the officer’s desertion to the Austrian army command. Franz will be executed.
One could wonder why Livia makes the abrupt decision to let her beloved Franz be put to death. The explanation is in the powerful scene unfolding in Mahler’s house. It is undoubtedly the climax of the drama, the ominous clash of two clouds unleashing lethal lightning.
I find that this scene could be dived in an eighteenth century Russian novel, with its vibrant and exasperated tackle of passions, crucial in orienting the destiny of main charachters.
Livia gets in the house and finds Franz in a deplorable state. She thinks he will cheer about her coming and show her the love he pretended to feel. Instead, the man reacts rudely, as though he was angry to be hunted and judged. He makes the mistake to humiliate the woman, vomiting insults and derision on her. Perhaps he is not fully convinced of the villainous words he says; nonetheless he uses them as the typical defence weapon of a miserable man who can hardly tolerate his selfish, vicious existence to be unmasked.
Livia is totally schocked and deeply disappointed. Her decision to denounce the officer is the desperate resolution of a woman obsessed by an overwhelming passion, who suddenly finds out that the man who swore love to her was only a greedy impostor.
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Bruckner’s music is perfectly fit for the atmosphere of the film. It is notorious that Visconti had a great competence and sensibility for both instrumental and Opera music. In my opinion, Bruckner’s work has nearly as much importance as the dialogues of the film.
What makes this film unique is its setting in Venice: in the night scenes we feel like perceiving the moisture of the air, the scent of mould of the canals with its rough, vicious, slippy quality.
Bruckner’s 7th Symphony supports these creepy sensations with its sleepless river flow and keeps our attention floating in a purgatory of expectations, ready to strike it with a cathartic event mournfully loosening the tension.
There isn’t only Bruckner in the film. I must also mention some arias from “Il Trovatore” performed in the opening scene.
As to the actors, how not to make a hint to Alida Valli’s unmistakeable gaze and to the falsity of Granger’s slippery glances when he manipulates Livia at the villa?
I also appreciated the punctilious reconstruction of costumes and ambiance of the Italian “Risorgimento”: a field where Visconti was an undisputed master as regards his whole work.
A last notation: one of Visconti’s assistants was Franco Zeffirelli, not yet famous at the time.
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And now I have the pleasure to quote the observations of a friend of mine, the Scottish painter Kathryn Kynoch. After considering the psychological drama of the main characters, she puts a particular stress on the higly pictorial scenes, witnessing Visconti’s capacity to tell a story through a vivid imagery as well as through clever dialogues.
“It is difficult to write about a film like this. One thing is certain to me and that is that Senso is a Masterpiece of a film. There is so much to say about it. So I’ll just start near the end of the film.
This is where Livia returns to Verona to see Franz. She is impelled to go and every minute seems interminable. The intense power of the personal drama then begins with the destruction by one character by the other…Franz is angry to be seen as he is, and not as he has presented himself to Livia. He is also disgusted with himself. He loathes himself and turns this inward loathing into a verbal assault on Livia .The acting is tremendous and it is a very powerful scene. Franz cannot destroy himself but absolutely, completely destroys Livia. It is awful, but awesome to behold such a powerful confrontation; a destruction of both self and another. But it is magnificently performed and stunningly filmed. Livia’s desperate revenge, is to send him, knowingly, to his death. Deep down in their souls they know that they have killed something vital to their life…..One is shot dead and the other roams distractedly a never ending labyrinth of dark alleys, in a limbo of non-existing existence. In this last part of Senso, both actors were magnificent- unbelievable. The cinematography was superb.
It struck me as Senso unfolded that here was an artists eye as well as a Director’s. What an opening. The contrast of 2 singers,stationary on stage and the movement and intrigue in the audience was significant. The opening scenes in the opera house were stunning. The whole cinema screen seemed to be full of movement, at times. I’m afraid that I do not know much about that period of Italian history so a lot of significant allusions will be lost on me. I enjoyed the visual magic, the feeling of chaos, confusion, fear and uncertainty both in the scenes outside and in the minds of the main actors was very clear. I remember appreciating the uncertain movement of soldiers and country people, the awful image of huge animal carcasses hung up, the struggling Roberto desperately trying to make his way through them and soldiers bodies strewn over the fields. I appreciated the fascinating shots of old Italian cities like Venice and the never ending corridors, and doors that opened to reveal more doors -so it seems to me. There were 2 monochromatic scenes using large cast shadows on a wall, the most dramatic being when Livia’s older husband, unable to restrain his wife, stands in a passageway in the darkness and lantern light cast a huge dark shadow on the wall, oppression looming over him.. Perhaps it is a troubled film made by someone with great , unresolved conflicts?”.
rasoiate 