Cinema Paradiso

Giuseppe Tornatore, Italy/France 1990, 123/170 minutes

Cinema Paradiso is above all else a tender tribute to the ennobling and enduring passion that our first love can bring into our lives. Arriving at a time when cinema was morphing into the multiplex and marching to the tune of marketing men, Cinema Paradiso says firm farewell to past as it breathes one last breath of life into the dying embers of cinemas golden age. There is much sentiment, but the film itself is not sentimental as the characters are enjoying the moment, never dwelling upon their fate.

Beginning with the final reel, the film opens with a middle-aged Salvatore receiving news of an old friend's passing. The story flashes back to a tiny village recovering in the aftermath of World War II and shows the early life of a cheeky young Salvatore as he is drawn to the local picture house, the Cinema Paradiso. What then follows is the poignant and humorous tale of a young boy's and later a young man's life and an answer as to why Salvatore walked away from his past over thirty years ago.

Words truly cannot do justice to a film that celebrates and draws so much upon the magic of the moving picture, though the above will have to make do. Comparisons to other films may help as many of the themes explored are found in Big Fish as well as the heart warming hope of The Shawshank Redemption and any film featuring a classic screen kiss. Bringing together so much of what is great in cinema results in a film that has universal appeal to satisfy film fans of all shades.

Review by Breandan Goodall
Written for EUFS Programme Autumn 2005

This was the second film I ever saw at the Film Society and the memories of it have stayed with me since (the first film wasn't quite so inspiring). The nostalgia and pleasant ambience of Cinema Paradiso set it apart from the current trend of explosions and CGI effects. It won an Oscar for best foreign film. And, of course, it's all about a cinema.

Well, not entirely. The film follows three stages in the life of the cineaste protagonist Salvatore. As a young child in a provincial Sicilian town, he worms his way into the Cinema Paradiso where he strikes up a friendship with a crusty peasant projectionist (Philippe Noiret) who shows him the magic behind the cinema. The boy has several adventures but tragedy strikes when a nitrate film catches fire and the theatre burns down. We watch as young Salvatore grows up, falls in love and eventually returns to the town he grew up in, returning as a famous film director.

Cinema Paradiso touches on many aspects of film in its journey including censorship, audience reaction and the rise and fall of the Italian film industry. Although schmaltzy in places, it avoids over-sentimentality and is backed up by a surprisingly forceful score from the master, Ennio Morricone. Brilliant cinematography, making full use of the contrasting shades present in the architecture of the town is reinforced by superb sets (the cinema especially) which create a strong sense of atmosphere, of wanting to be there. It is that feeling of wanting to become a part of the whole process that led me to become EUFS president- which I don't regret in the slightest, honestly.

Review by Neil Chue Hong
Taken from EUFS Programme 1997-98

Cinema Paradiso tells the story of a filmmaker (Salvatore) who returns to the Sicilian village in which he grew up for the funeral of Alfredo the cinema projectionist who first fired his passion for film.

Tornatore's homage to the works of Renoir and Visconti milks every cliché in the book as regards nostalgia for the great days of cinema but thankfully he manages to avoid a self congratulatory aura; rather by moving the snippets through the eyes of a child he recreates the innocent wonderment found in a world illuminated by the flickering light.

There is touching warmth and humour in the characters portrayed, from the fainting lottery winner to the zealous censorious priest, but especially the wizened Alfredo who as a surrogate parent to Salvatore, passes on his beloved profession. Salvatore sees his first glimpse of romance on the silver screen so it seems only fitting that his first teenage sweetheart is spied through the eyepiece of his camera, the two great loves of his life united. This is no fantasy though, for the cinema offers refuge from the background of hardship and poverty in the village. Indeed by the end, material conditions have improved and the cinema is allowed to go to ruin, threatened eventually to be bulldozed into a car park.

Morricone's memorable score reflects Guirato's enchanting photography, together evoking an emotional response in the most hardened of hearts - a must for the die-hard romantics.

Review by Cordelia Stephens
Taken from EUFS Programme 1994-95