Video or DVD release of extended versions (sometimes called director’s cuts) of popular films have become a common practice in recent years. The Lord of the Rings trilogy thoroughly mined every ounce of commercial potential from the practice, but other films, such as Leon, The Professional, have received similar treatment. The additional footage in extended versions generally does not significantly alter one’s view of the essential story, but merely adds additional detail or entertaining vignettes that a film’s core group of enthusiasts are likely to appreciate. Cinema Paradiso also exists in two versions, called the “old version” and the “new version”, the latter being something akin to a director’s cut. It “restores” or “adds” (depending on your perspective) about 51 minutes of material. When first released in Italy, the film was nearly three hours long (174 min), but it was trimmed to 123 minutes for its release in the United States and it was on the basis of that 123 minute version that the film won the 1988 Academy Award in the Best Foreign Film category. What is unique in the case of Cinema Paradiso is that the reinsertion of those 51 minutes significantly alters the essential meaning of the film, for better or for worse. Many critics say for worse; I say for better. To understand the debate, you’ll need to first know the story.

Cinema Paradiso is essentially an ode to life’s two most important passions: romantic love and career. The setting of the story is in Sicily following WWII when the big screen was at the center of the entertainment industry, just before the advent of television. The story begins in Rome, when a prominent movie director, Salvatore (Jacques Perrin), receives word from his hometown in Sicily of the death of his old friend and mentor, Alfredo. The main block of the story is then structured as an extended flashback in Salvatore’s mind to his boyhood and the role that Alfredo played in his life, as he makes his way home for the funeral.

Alfredo (Philippe Noiret), was the projectionist in the town’s movie theatre called the “Cinema Paradiso.” Salvatore (nicknamed Toto), a young boy rendered fatherless by the war, is fascinated by the movies shown at the Cinema Paradiso and with the projection booth in particular. Each week the town’s priest previews the films to be shown that week in order to censor any content deemed inappropriate. Such was the influence of the Catholic Church in Italy at that time. With Toto watching from a hiding place behind a curtain, the priest rings his altar bell each time a scene depicts something judged to be offensive, which, as it happens, includes kissing. When the actors and actresses kiss, the bell rings, and Alfredo, in the projection booth, must mark that place in the reel for later removal of the offending frames. The end result is a pile of film strips in one corner of the projection booth comprising a veritable smorgasbord of smooches.

Toto (Salvatore Cascio) is drawn irresistibly to the projection booth. Alfredo drives him away initially, but gradually Toto wears down the old man’s resistance by a series of cunning ploys. He weasels his way in on one occasion by bringing Alfredo his lunch from home. Later, he helps Alfredo with an elementary school exam (apparently Alfredo had not received education earlier in life) by passing him answers, but not before exacting from him a promise that he’ll teach Toto the ins and outs of the projection booth.

The projection booth becomes Toto’s home away from home and Alfredo his surrogate father. In mass, Toto falls dreamily asleep, but he crosses himself religiously as he enters the projection booth. He listens raptly and wide-eyed to Alfredo’s stories. Alfredo has a deep love for cinema that is evident in his eyes, face, and his voice. He spends so much of his day in the booth listening to films that he has unintentionally memorized many of the great lines from the classics of the time, which he intersperses into his conversations and instructions to Toto. Alfredo sees some of himself in his young protégé – in fact, more than he wants to see. He recognizes that Toto possesses more talent and ability than he ever had and doesn’t want Toto to end up wasting his talents as a mere projectionist. He has bigger things in mind for Toto.

The Cinema Paradiso is the center of this small town’s identity. Each night, the townspeople gather there to view film (even though their films lack kisses). There are Chaplin films and Gone With the Wind and King Kong and John Wayne and countless classics of the age. All of the events of living that occur in the town also occur in the Cinema Paradiso. Romances are initiated and consummated in dark corners and behind curtains. Later, these same couples show up with newborn badies and their mothers breast feed them among the audience. Wine is guzzled and the air fills with smoke. It is a highly interactive audience: some yell out instructions to the characters in the movie, others jeer and hoot, some stomp their feet, and adolescent boys even masturbate when a well-endowed actress appears. The balcony is occupied by the classier people in town and one regularly spits down on the unruly riff-raff below. For Toto, the Cinema Paradiso encompasses every important lesson in life. One night, when the last patrons to leave become unruly in the town square because they are still longing for more cinema , Alfredo rigs up a mirror to reflect a movie through an open window onto the side of a building across the square, creating an impromptu outdoor theatre. Toto is amazed.

This much of the story is common to both version of Cinema Paradiso. What differs between the two is the degree of emphasis afforded to a second story line. It concerns Toto’s love interest as he moves into adolescence. The adolescent Toto is played by Marco Leonardi, who also appeared in Like Water For Chocolate. Toto inevitably discovers the opposite sex. He loses his virginity, appropriately enough, in the Cinema Paradiso, between shows. He loses his heart somewhat later, when he encounters the lovely Elena, the daughter of a wealthy banker. He introduces himself, awkwardly, and is determined to prove his devotion to her by standing outside her window each evening, awaiting a signal from her that she loves him as well. The persistent Toto keeps up this show of devotion month after month, every evening, but receives no encouragement. Finally, when his resolve cracks and he gives up in despair, Elena’s resistance cracks as well. She realizes how much she misses her devoted suitor. Toto still has the implacable resistance of her father to deal with, however.

One obstacle after another springs up in the way of Toto and Elena’s relationship. Her father moves their family away. Then Toto is erroneously drafted into the Army (surviving sons of men killed in action were not supposed to be drafted). Despite this, Toto tries desperately to keep their bond intact and, after a long separation, arranges a rendezvous at the Cinema Paradiso. Elena, however, doesn’t show up . . . . or, at least, that’s what Salvatore has believed for the decades since. When the adult Salvatore returns for Alfredo’s funeral, he is finally able to track down his old flame – who is now married -- and has a daughter strikingly reminiscent of the younger Elena in Salvatore’s eyes. Salvatore learns that Elena had, in fact, shown up for the rendezvous but that Alfredo had kept it secret from him. Apparently, Alfredo believed that Salvatore’s destiny was his life’s work in cinema and took it upon himself to thwart Salvatore’s romantic desire, feeling that Salvatore would not be able to break from his hometown if he had Elena to keep him there. Salvatore has become a highly successful director, but has never found another woman that he can love after losing Elena.

In the original American version of Cinema Paradiso, the romance with Elena is limited to a subplot in scope, covering only the adolescent segment. There is no indication of Alfredo’s part in destroying the relationship. Consequently, the short-version of the film is mainly a nostalgic view of the mentor-protégé relationship between Alfredo and Toto and their shared love of cinema. As such, the short version of the film had great appeal for film critics, who are, after all, film geeks that fell in love with cinema at some stage in their lives – not unlike Toto. Roger Ebert, in reviewing the old version, put it this way: “anyone who loves movies is likely to love ‘Cinema Paradiso.’”

In the longer version, the significance of the story changes profoundly. Most of the additional footage expands the background and, especially, the closure on the romance between Salvatore and Elena. Therefore, the two elements of the story (corresponding to the two important elements of life – love and life’s work) are more evenly balanced. In its longer version, the film explores the tension between the two major elements of life and thereby raises some powerful questions. One question revolves around the concept of sublimation: would Salvatore have become a great director or as great a director had his romantic inclinations not been thwarted? If so, would Salvatore have been more or less happy had he been fulfilled in love but less successful professionally? What about the public that enjoys the fruits of his work? Then, another natural question posed by this new version is: was Alfredo right or wrong to take it upon himself to destroy the love between Toto and Elena in order to ensure that Salvatore would not be deflected from finding his life’s work? Was it presumptuous on his part to decide what was best for Salvatore? What does Salvatore now think of Alfredo knowing that he helped him find his life’s work but also destroyed his one true romantic love of a lifetime? These are profound questions that are not inherent in the old version of Cinema Paradiso.

The existence of these two remarkably different versions of Cinema Paradiso could be used to point out why film lovers should not depend excessively on the opinions of film critics and reviewers (including mine). Film critics, being film geeks themselves, love the part of the story of Cinema Paradiso that relates to the young Toto falling in love with cinema, precisely because it is something to which they can personally relate. One critic states, for example, that these scenes “form the central core of the film.” Another effuses that the “earliest parts of the movie are the most magical.” Still another states the issue explicitly: the “early scenes involving the young boy and his mentor endear Guiseppe Tornatore’s film to cinema aficionados, who recall similar feelings when they fell in love with movies.” For critics who love Cinema Paradiso for mirroring a part of their own personal evolution, the added minutes merely “diffuse the focus of the film away from its heart by making the mystery of what happened to Elena far more important than is warranted and causing some doubts about Alfredo’s motives.” Actually, the new footage doesn’t merely cast doubt on Alfredo’s motives; it opens his actions up to profound questions and a much deeper level of analysis. For critics who want mainly a nostalgic tribute to falling in love with cinema, “more doesn’t translate into better” and Tornatore merely “screwed up a beautiful thing.” In my opinion, however, the restored longer version is a much more profound film, raising significant questions and issues rather than merely wallowing in nostalgia.

Tornatore was just 32 years of age when Cinema Paradiso was completed. For a director that young, this film was a remarkably sophisticated piece of work. The film nicely balances between scenes of humor and scenes of emotional poignancy. The technique of mixing in strips of old film created a feeling of surrealism that was then further amplified by the portrayal of the patrons of the cinema as near caricatures. The lives of the people in this small town resemble cinema, illustrating the magic that transpires when the lights go down.

The casting was superb, especially the three Salvatores: Salvatore Cascio as the boy, Marco Leonardi as the adolescent, and Jacques Perrin as the adult. The score for Cinema Paradiso was the extraordinary work of Ennio Morricone, one of the greatest film composers in history. He has scored innumerable films but was at his best for this one, providing several great themes, effectively realized with wonderful solo performances and ensemble work. Cinema Paradiso is in Italian with English subtitles. The old version runs 123 minutes; the new version 174 minutes. My personal recommendation is the New Version. In my personal ranking of non-English language films, Cinema Paradiso is #2. I hold it in very high esteem.


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You might want to check out these other excellent films from Italy:

Amarcord
L’Avventura
The Bicycle Thief
Christ Stopped at Eboli
The Conformist
Death in Venice
Divorce Italian Style
The Dreamers
Eclipse
8 ½
The Garden of the Finzi-Continis
General della Rovere
The Last Emperor
The Leopard
Life is Beautiful
Malèna
Mamma Roma
Miracle in Milan
The Night of the Shooting Stars
Nights of Cabiria
La Notte
Padre Padrone
Il Postino
Rocco and His Brothers
Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom
Shoeshine
The Son’s Room
The Spider's Stratagem
Star Maker
Swept Away
Teorema
The Tree of Wooden Clogs
Umberto D.

Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Good for Groups
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age