The Life And Times of Italy’s Wealthy
Why The Disappearance Of A Woman Is The Least Important Part Of Michelangelo Antonioni’s ‘L’Avventura’
The Criterion Collection is a distribution company that specializes in “important” classic and contemporary films. Through Hulu, many of these films are made available to stream. Once a week, I like to illuminate a Criterion movie — to deepen one’s understanding of filmmaking and film history. This week’s movie: “L’Avventura” (1960)
At the 1960 Cannes Film Festival, Italian director Michelangelo Antonioni and up-and-coming star Monica Vitti were excited to showcase the film they made together: L’Avventura (English: The Adventure). Upon its first screening, most critics were applaud. When the film ended, loud boos rang out; Antonioni and Vitti fled the theater.
Good word, however, began to spread from a few critics who enjoyed the film. A second screening took place, which convinced critics to look past their initial hate. L’Avventura won the Jury Prize, the third most prestigious prize at Cannes. From there, the film became a international box office hit and a powerful example, at the time, of a fresh take of filmmaking. Suddenly, many began noticing a film’s pacing or character development — due to their viewing of L’Avventura. Today, the film still starts heated debates on filmmaking — and, more simply, whether the film should be considered a great film or not.
Regardless of your take or mine, L’Avventura is a powerful example of filmmaking. Its characters stick in your head, where the plot is simple yet the characters are complex. (Though this goes without saying, plot points which WILL ruin your viewing of the film will be mentioned in the following paragraphs. If you have not seen L’Avventura, please take the time to watch and revisit this after.)
Anna (Lea Massari) and Claudia (Monica Vitti) meet up with Anna’s boyfriend Sandro (Gabriele Ferzetti), as well as with two other couples. The group — all part of Italy’s upper class — take a yacht out to sea. They enjoy the water and beautiful, ultimately docking and exploring a small island. Each person enjoys the time on shore, but, when it is time to leave, Claudia realizes Anna is gone. The rest of the film is each character emotionally and physically dealing with Anna’s disappearance.
The biggest strength of this film is the character development and the multiple readings Antonioni gives the viewer. For Anna, her characterization is simple: she is upset with her relationship with Sandro. He is gone for days, as he “travels” — or does he? — for business. Sandro dismisses her frustration with him, opting to take a nap on the beach instead of dealing with a strained relationship.
Anna, before disappearing, notices Claudia admire the blouse she is wearing. Before reaching the island and everyone getting out, Anna slips the blouse in Claudia’s bag. Perhaps Anna is planning to kill herself, due to the unhappiness she feels toward her relationship. Antonioni is leaving clues to set up Anna to commit suicide. As a viewer in the first quarter, the viewer is in shock that Anna — who is as much as of a main character as anyone else — is gone. Though Antonioni clearly sets up for her disappearance, killing Anna is a clue to the viewer that investing in Anna’s character was a mistake. With Anna out of the picture, our attention turns to Claudia and Sandro.
This is where things get complicated and annoying.
Claudia and Sandro are the only two from the trip who are concerned with finding Anna. The others from the trip move on with their lives — parties and love affairs. Famed film critic Roger Ebert believes Antonioni is making a statement about the wealthy: no one has a fulfilling relationship. Friendships and relationships have no meaning, as the couple from the boat are opening flirtatious with others.
I see Ebert’s point. Why would they care about a woman they sort of knew if they do not care about the ones they “love”? Anna, to them, is another meaningless, wealthy woman that was due to be “lost” by society. This cold, bold take on life is part of why L’Avventura is decisive. Watching these attitudes from the characters in this film is not satisfying, but Antonioni is not worried about satisfying an audience. His characters challenge morals and question the characterizations of film characters.
Claudia and Sandro end up “together”. Their relationship heats up, cools down, only to grow passionate again. With Anna gone, Sandro falls in love with Claudia — who takes time to reciprocate the love back to him. Antonioni continues to frustrate by, possibly, implying Sandro had something to do with Anna’s disappearance. Perhaps he wanted Anna gone to get to Claudia? Antonioni does not say, but whatever role Sandro might have in Anna’s disappearance is never revealed. We root for both of them because of their determination to find Anna; we are disappointed in them for choosing to be romantically linked.
The film’s ending neatly illustrates Antonioni’s point: what caused Anna’s disappearance is never revealed. We are left with guesses, based on characters who are bored and lost in their own feelings and relationships. Claudia finds Sandro sleeping with another woman, only to comfort him when he is upset at either upsetting her or Anna’s disappearance. Claudia slowly walks over and compassionately places her hand on his head. Perhaps, because of their mutual feelings toward their sadness over Anna’s disappearance, they are able to connect on a emotionally higher level than the rest of their friends and peers. They are forever linked by Anna’s disappearance, no matter how many other people they choose to be intimate with. The ending, for me, is rather hopeful; it is the first real sense of emotion two characters share toward one another in the entire film.
While this film many frustrate many, Antonioni amazingly breaks open the norms of creating and showing characters. The viewer is meant to hang on to various clues, which change upon each viewing, about why Anna disappeared.
Yet, Antonioni asks, rather cruelly, “Does it matter?”
