3 PM on a Wednesday, I sat in the back of Professor Annette Insdorf’s Cinema History III class and watched magic unfold on-screen. Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Conformist is simple in its synopsis but complex in its storytelling: the film follows Marcello, a 30-something man in fascist Italy, who joins the government’s secret police in order to fit in. His mission is to wipe out an outspoken anti-Fascist (the Professor) who has fled to Paris. Marcello goes with his new wife to France for their honeymoon as a cover for his mission. Things get complicated when he falls for the professor’s wife. People die. Fin. The events of the film take place on a single day, but with the usage of flashbacks, we travel back in time through Marcello’s memories. The movie is sprinkled with moments of comedy and quirkiness—which balance the dark themes of the film and also contribute to Marcello’s distance from the spectators. After the film, you have witnessed some of the most defining points of his life, but still do not fully understand him.
Something has to be said of the cinematography in this film. Vittorio Storaro demonstrated brilliance in his field when he used lighting to add to the film’s narrative. Lights are set in motion—in a particular scene, a hanging lamp swings back and forth, shifting from illuminating Marcello to drowning him in darkness. The motion of light tells Marcello’s story: transitions from dark to light parallel Marcello’s shift from fascism (conformity) to the parts of himself he doesn’t understand (his darkness). Light in The Conformist is a tool that supports the storytelling of the film but also constructs a world in Marcello’s head that the viewers explore through flashback; its bright compositions make for a beautifully lit film, but it’s unauthentic—like Marcello’s identity. Furthermore, Fascism is a character in this film. Bertolucci equates believing in fascism to blindness because of its claims of greatness and empty promises. One could argue the importance of darkness in this film relates to fascism’s lies and the way Marcello lies to himself.
The sound design in this film also takes on a life of its own. Georges Delerue associated a melody with each character, eventually interweaving the tracks as characters interacted. The cascading of melodies—layers building upon layers—is similar to the way memories bridge to other memories in an Inception-like manner. Sound design is just another way the filmmakers added complexity and dynamism to the movie’s storytelling.
I had never seen a Bertolucci film before, but can already say he has to be one of my favorite directors if he can make something like this. The film left me unsure of how to feel. For me, that is an accomplishment for a film. Too often, spectators are left happy after an unlikely pair fall in love, or sad from watching tragedies of war or death. The opaqueness of my thoughts and emotions about this movie meant I was being challenged. The Conformist makes you think—something cinema should be igniting in us more these days.
Kate Hefner (@katehefner) is a junior in Columbia College.