Roberto Benigni is the biggest box office star in Italy. His comic
films consistently break records (Johnny Stecchino, The Monster).
But here in America, his efforts have failed to catch fire (Return
of the Pink Panther, Night on Earth). Humor, of course, is
not an easy thing to translate--and Americans like to pretend
that their sense of humor is the most sophisticated. Films like
the recent smash There's Something About Mary prove otherwise,
of course. Perhaps Americans are embarrassed to admit that physical
humor is funny. Mix in the right amount of sex, and it becomes
"adult"--leave it pure, and it's "juvenile."
Brit comedian Rowan Atkinson's Bean, for example, topped
the box office in nearly every country on Earth. In America, it
made barely a ripple. Benigni's humor, like Atkinson's, relies
on easily translatable physical slapstick. Americans, however,
seem to have outgrown the pure artform the day that Charlie Chaplin
(a Brit even) retired.
With his newest film, however, Benigni seems to have locked onto
a no-lose combination of humor and pathos. Life is Beautiful
left the attendees of this year's Cannes film fest with jaws agape.
Why? Because it is, ostensibly, a comedy about life in a Nazi
prison camp. That isn't a comic subject most folks would dare
to touch. We're not talking about a foolish POW camp a la "Hogan's
Heroes" either. We're talking a real deal Jewish death camp.
Touchy subject, no? Drawing on reserves few could have guessed
he even possessed, though, Benigni has crafted a wonderful, funny
and life-affirming little gem.
Life begins as a comic romance as Guido (Benigni), an energetic
country boy freshly moved to the big city, woos a beautiful school
teacher named Dora (Benigni's real life wife Nicoletta Braschi)
in pre-war Italy. There are hints of the impending conflict (fascism
is discussed, well dressed soldiers wander the streets), but for
the most part, the first half of the film is a gentle romance.
Benigni's character is an imaginative rake--to call him a liar
is a bit harsh, but he does spend most of his time spinning fanciful
tales. Upon first meeting his lady love, Guido claims to be a
prince who will soon be re-seeding the land on which she lives
with wall-to-wall camels. At one point, he shows up at the school
where Dora teaches posing as a government inspector and delivers
a wonderful lampooning of Nazi eugenics to her students ("Obviously
we are the master race. Look at this ear. Have you ever seen a
more beautiful ear?").
Eventually, the two hook up, and the film's second half takes
a dramatic turn. Things skip ahead a few years. Guido and Dora
are married and have a young son, Giosué. The war now is
in full swing. Being a Jew, Guido is a
frequent target
of harassment. Eventually, the family is rounded up and sent off
to a prison camp. Unable to tell his young son the truth about
their incarceration, Guido falls back on an imaginative lie. He
tells Giosué that they are being sent to a special summer
camp. If they obey all the rules, they can gather points. The
first person in camp to amass 1,000 points wins a real-life tank!
While Guido labors during the day, his son engages in such "games"
as hiding from the stormtroopers who are gathering up children
for the gas chambers. Here, the film is straddling a precarious
line, but it plows ahead like a seasoned tightrope walker without
so much as a stumble.
Numerous comedians have tried to walk that fine line between comedy
and pathos. Few have ever succeeded like this. Jerry Lewis, the
ultimate crying on the inside kind of clown, even tried his hand
at making a prison camp comedy. The Day the Clown Cried
featured Lewis as a circus clown trying to cheer up children in
a WWII prison camp. It was, like most of Lewis' more indulgent
work, syrupy and filled with bathos (for you nontheater majors,
that's the bad kind of pathos). The film was never even released
to theaters, perhaps due to studio skittishness. Most recently,
Billy Crystal has injected his films (Father's Day, My Giant)
with a cloying dose of schmaltz. I suppose there's an impulse
in every comedian to be dramatic, but it usually comes out as
maudlin sentiment. Chaplin got the mixture right in films like
City Lights and The Kid. In Life is Beautiful,
Benigni applies his pathos with an eyedropper and comes up with
a precise mixture of hopeful humor and touching emotion.
Life does perfect double duty as a heartwarmer and a heartbreaker.
Watching Guido shield his son from the harsh reality of their
life with a fanciful lie is a wonder to behold. Benigni doesn't
try too hard to reveal the horrors of death camp life. (In the
wake of Schindler's List, I think we've got a pretty clear
picture of what it was like.) At the same time, though, he does
not shy away from occasionally confronting viewers with a proper
knowledge of how dangerous this situation is. When all the other
children in camp disappear, Guido informs Giosué that they
are now playing the hiding game. Any child who is spotted will
lose points. Benigni never makes fun of the situation. He's aware
of the gravity of his setting. But what he's fashioned it into
is a wonderful, imaginative tale about the triumph of the human
spirit and the idea that life is indeed beautiful, no matter what
obstacles we face.