Let me just start by saying this film is gorgeous, starting with its cast, led by Burt Lancaster, Alain Delon, and Claudia Cardinale. With his whiskers and regal gravitas, Lancaster even looks like the majestic leopard from his family's coat of arms, or perhaps a lion. The production quality is very high, with lavish sets, beautiful costumes, and incredible attention to detail. Shot in widescreen format, director Luchino Visconti also gives us sweeping landscapes in rugged Sicily.
Set in 1860, the Bourbon state of Naples and Sicily (the Kingdom of Two Sicilies) was about to end, as King Ferdinand II had recently died. The movement for Italian unification was led out of Piedmont-Sardinia, ruled by Victor Emmanuel and with Cavour as his Prime Minister. Sometimes at odds with these leaders, in May, 1860 Giuseppe Garibaldi and his "Redshirts" invaded Sicily to successfully take the island from the Bourbons. This was a part of creating the new Kingdom of Italy, unified for the first time since the Roman period.
For wealthy aristocrats on Sicily, the coming change was viewed warily, for reasons of wanting to hold on to their riches, as well as a fair degree of Sicilian cynicism. We see this in the older Prince (Lancaster), who looks on impassively, looking to ride out the regime change and retain his position, and who later turns down an opportunity to represent Sicily in the newly formed nation's senate. We also see it in his nephew (Delon), who doesn't really have a guiding political principle, but is canny about sensing change, and fights for the side which benefits him the most. It's not a particularly flattering portrait, though I think Visconti's portrayal of these characters is far less pessimistic than Lampedusa's. Lancaster is stately and dignified, a positive character here, particularly when contrasted to the character of Calogero, a landowner who has risen from humble circumstances.
The genius of the film and the work it's based on is how it has all of these layers to the inevitability of change, with one political regime giving way to another, the old aristocracy giving way to those with "new money," and older people recognizing their age and giving way to youth. The grand palaces and beautiful ballroom dances are of an age now lost, and the film has a poignancy in fondly looking back at it - kind of like how the American south before the Civil War is romanticized (and in this case, minus the horrifying slavery and subsequent distortion of truth).
Amidst this grand historical backdrop the old Prince sees all aspects of his life changing, even if he's been convinced by his nephew that "for everything to remain the same, everything must change." He ponders it wistfully, and the viewer comes along for the ride emotionally. That quiet look in the mirror that Lancaster has towards the end, a tear in his eye, says it all. Lampedusa did not live to see his only book published or the triumph of this movie, which is sad but somehow in keeping with his themes. Even in triumph, the march of time is relentless, and we all will be the victim of our own transience.
Visconti's work is fantastic and faithful to the book, with one glaring exception: he omits the final two chapters, set in 1888 and then 1910, choosing to spend a very long time (45 minutes!) on the final ballroom scene instead. As exquisite as that set piece was, I think it was a mistake, because those final chapters which flash forward in time cement the theme of dissolution, give us the realities behind the grand moments of life and love, and contain indelible images. It's a bittersweet film regardless, but Visconti chose to put things in a more optimistic and happy light. Perhaps without cutting the ballroom scene down at all, we could have been treated to another hour of this delicious work. I would have been down for that.
A couple of quotes, this first one on getting older:
"You see, Father a man can think of himself as still young, even at 45. But when he realizes his kids are grown enough to fall in love, old age becomes all of a sudden overwhelming."
And this one, on Sicilians. Lampedusa's observations reminded me of Kazantzakis commenting on Cretans, and I loved how we get little insights into the culture at about the two hour point of the movie:
"We're old, we're very old. For 25 centuries we've been carrying on our shoulders the weight of wonderful civilizations. But they all came from the outside, we didn't create them. For 2500 years we've only been a colony. I know it's our own fault. But we are tired, void, and lack vitality. ... I know you all mean well, but you're late. Sleep. That's what Sicilians want, a long sleep. They will hate those who want to wake them up. Were it even to give them beautiful gifts. But I doubt that the new Kingdom has any gift for us. Here, any action, even the most violent, represents a longing for oblivion. Our sensuality is a longing for oblivion. We shoot and stab because we long for death. Our laziness, the penetrating sweetness of our ice cream are a longing for voluptuous immobility. That is, again, for death."
