Director: Ermanno Olmi
Screenplay: Ermanno Olmi, Ettore Lombardo
Starring: Sandro Panseri, Loredana Detto, Carlo Cabrini, Anna Canzi
Country: Italy
Running Time: 93/97 min & 77 min
Year: 1961 & 1963
BBFC Certificate: PG
Ermanno Olmi is a director who has made several highly regarded films, most notably the Palme dāOr-winning The Tree of Wooden Clogs (which I reviewed here a while back), but he’s not a recognisable name these days, with many other, sometimes less deserving, Italian directors being much better known.
His career began in an inauspicious way too. After struggling to find work in various artistic fields, Olmi got an admin job at the Edison-Volta company, where his mother was also employed. There, Olmi was offered the chance to join an amateur film club as a company-sponsored leisure activity. He took the offer and developed a love of filmmaking, producing industrial documentaries for the company.
These gradually developed in quality and ambition and, by 1961, Olmi released his first narrative feature film, Il Posto (a.k.a. The Sound of Trumpets). This was shot in a piecemeal fashion in between more commercial documentary work, but the finished film went on to receive great critical acclaim and launched his career in the publicly accessible arena of cinema.
Radiance Films are releasing Il Posto together with his next feature, I Fidanzati (a.k.a. The Fiances), on Blu-ray. Enticed by the critical acclaim both titles have had bestowed upon them, I requested a copy of the set to review and my thoughts follow.
With the films both being from the same director, with similar themes and qualities, Iāve decided to review them together.
Il Posto centres around Domenico (Sandro Panseri), a young man from a working-class family, who travels to Milan for a job interview to get what his mother hopes will be a ājob for lifeā. His hopes are high as he enters the corporate world, but he quickly becomes disillusioned by the impersonal and bureaucratic nature of his new job.
Domenico’s path crosses with Antonietta (Loredana Detto), another young job seeker, and a tentative romance blossoms. However, working in different buildings and the other barriers of office life keep them apart.
I Fidanzati sees an older man, Giovanni (Carlo Cabrini), move from Milan to Sicily for an extended work placement that he hopes will give him a promotion from his welding job. However, this long time away keeps him apart from his fiance Liliana (Anna Canzi), who wanted him to stay.
As Giovanni struggles to get to grips with living in a completely different region, he wonders whether or not he made the right decision in coming.
Olmi was too young to be part of the ātrueā neorealist movement but his films have more than a flavour of that, aided by his background as a documentary filmmaker. His work remains distinct from those classic titles of the 40s but, actually, as Richard Dyer argues, in films like Il Posto and I Fidanzati, Olmi could be said to be adhering closer to the idea of neorealism than many of the neorealist directors, through a more genuine sense of naturalism.
Sandro Panseri, the lead actor of Il Posto, for instance, had previously been an engineering student in real life and both he and his co-star Loredana Detto were both non-professional actors at the time and were the appropriate ages for the roles, rather than more mature actors pretending to be younger.
Olmi is a filmmaker who shows great restraint too. These are ordinary stories of ordinary people. There are no big, melodramatic scenes or lengthy monologues. Dialogue from the protagonists is kept minimal in both films, in fact, particularly in I Fidanzati. Instead, the performances are driven by subtle expressions and body language. The awkwardness of Domenico and the lonely melancholy of Giovanni are perfectly captured by Olmiās camera.
Thereās a visual poetry to the films, not only through the avoidance of dialogue-driven narratives, but through the way the locations are photographed. Using genuine locations adds to the realism of the films but these are shot with a subtly artful eye, not a rough, documentary-like fashion. Lamberto Caimi, the cinematographer on both titles, talks about how they didn’t always have a fully fleshed-out script during production, shooting some things on-the-fly. Caimiās experience making corporate documentaries with Olmi helped him be able to quickly grab quality material on location, like this.
The music in both films is largely just diegetic, again making them feel more ‘realistic’ than the original neorealist films, which were often classically scored. There is a little playful use of music though, such as when Domenico breaks into song (sung enjoyably badly) in Il Posto and it continues as he shifts time and locations, belting it out at a greater volume.
Whilst the films are understated and avoid grand political statements, they do have something to say. They both look at how putting too much focus on employment can stifle and beat people down through isolation and drudgery. At that time (and still to this day), you needed a stable job to be able to get by. It didn’t matter if you enjoyed it. You just did it because you had to.
Both films are also about losing your place in the world, particularly after pursuing new job opportunities. They’re looking at the modern way of living and its downsides, isolating people through this mass-production mentality where employees are like cogs in the machinery or cattle being herded to and fro.
That’s not to say Il Posto or I Fidanzati are dry, bitter attacks on society though. They have heart and soul in spades.
Il Posto, for instance, revels in exploring some quirky minor characters. Not only do we get a few beautifully observed glimpses of background figures throughout, we suddenly shift away from Domenico for a few minutes to explore the lives of some of the office staff outside of work. We realise that whilst they seem dull and empty in the office, they too have ambitions, interests and talents. Again, whilst this diversion takes us away from the core narrative and seems a little indulgent at first, it’s actually expanding to add another layer of authenticity to its world. In reality, people all have their strange little quirks. We just don’t always see them in public.
The New Year’s Eve party scene in the same film is another sequence that nicely straddles the line between damning the institutional nature of modern life and the simple pleasures it can still provide. Bosses try to ‘control’ the evening with their weird games and insistence that people dance at the start but the employees do get into the swing of things and seem to be having a good time, regardless.
Panseri makes for a charming lead too. His awkward innocence is incredibly endearing, making the scenes with him and Detto particularly sweet. Carlo Cabrini is less charismatic as the lead in I Fidanzati, which might explain why the film didnāt win me over quite as wholeheartedly as its predecessor.
The filmmaking is equally as masterful in I Fidanzati though. The editing is particularly strong here, elegantly switching between the present day and flashbacks which portray the memories troubling our protagonist during his lonely days in Sicily.
Overall, both films are wonderfully realised slices of life. Quiet, melancholic but occasionally joyful tales that are intoxicating to watch.
Il Posto: 
I Fidanzati: 
Il Posto + I Fidanzati is out on 27th January on region-free Blu-Ray, released by Radiance Films. The picture quality on both films is great, with clean, detailed prints and nicely balanced tones. Iāve used screengrabs throughout this review to give you an idea of how they look, though these have been compressed. Audio is clear and natural too.
LIMITED EDITION BLU-RAY SPECIAL FEATURES
– 4K restoration of both films from the original camera negatives by Cineteca di Bologna in collaboration with Titanus, presented on two discs
– Uncompressed mono PCM audio for both films
– Appreciation by filmmaker Maurizio Zaccaro (2024, 19 mins)
– Interview with cinematographer Lamberto Caimi on both films (2024, 17 and 11 mins)
– Interview with author Richard Dyer on both films (2024, 39, 23 mins)
– Interview with programmer Ehsan Khoshbakht on Ermanno Olmi (2024, 16 mins)
– Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Filippo Di Battista
– Limited edition booklet with new writing by critic Christina Newland
– Limited edition of 3000 copies, presented in full-height Scanavo packaging with removable OBI strip leaving packaging free of certificates and markings
What isnāt mentioned in the disc blurb is that there are two versions of Il Posto on the disc – the original theatrical cut (93 mins) and a slightly longer version (97 mins) released in 2018 that includes a previously deleted scene. You also have the ability to watch the deleted scene on its own. I opted for the theatrical cut and watched the deleted scene afterwards. Itās a lovely sequence that adds a little more flavour to the film, even if itās not vital to the story.
DOP Lamberto Caimi talks about his work with Olmi in a two-part interview spread over the two discs. Before rising up the ranks, Caimi was Olmi’s “battery boy” on the director’s early documentaries. Il Posto was Caimiās first feature film as DOP. He discusses his and Olmi’s techniques and provides some details about how the films were made. He shows the interviewer some production stills too, which are lovely to see.
Maurizio Zaccaro is also interviewed. Olmi was his mentor and he says the director was keen to teach. Zaccaro talks about Olmi’s unique way of working with actors and his technical proficiency. He also poignantly describes his final phone call with Olmi and the moment he found out the director had passed away.
Richard Dyer provides substantial essays on both films. He digs into background information, technical aspects and the film’s themes. As such, I found them valuable in writing my review.
Ehsan Khoshbakht is also interviewed about the two titles. He provides an interesting description of how Olmi got into the film industry before analysing the films. It sounds, on paper, like a retread of Dyer’s longer contribution but Khoshbakht has his own takes and explores some aspects of Olmi’s past not covered by Dyer.
The booklet contains an essay by Christina Newland, who looks at how the films explore the āsearch for joy in a mechanised worldā. Itās a thoughtful analysis.
So, Radiance have brought together a pair of wonderful and under-seen titles in a generously-filled package. As such, I give it a strong recommendation.
Disc/package:
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