Gianni Amelio, an acclaimed Italian director, has crafted a film in Lamerica that provides a depth of insight into its time and place that few films can boast. It’s a rich tapestry of a troubled time in Albania, just a bit more than a decade ago. There’s just enough narrative, along with the eloquent documentary-style portrayal of Albania, to hold it all together and add some potent thematic messages, but not enough to furnish solid entertainment value.

Historical Background: Albania is a small Balkan country located across the Adriatic Sea from Italy. It is mountainous and two-thirds of the people live on farms or in small rural villages. There are only twelve cities with populations over 20,000. Living standards in Albania are far below those of almost every other European nation, partly because Albania has languished under one ineffective form of government after another. After World War I (during which Albania was occupied successively by four different countries), Ahmed Beg Zogu seized power in 1925, initially declaring a Republic but soon crowning himself King Zog I and ruling as a dictator until 1939. Fascist Italy under Mussolini invaded in April of 1939, as depicted at the opening of Lamerica. After the Italians surrendered to the allies in 1943, German troops occupied Albania. Albania may be poor and its population largely illiterate, but it is also fiercely independent. Three different resistance movements emerged during World War II, one supported by the Yugoslavian Communists. At the end of World War II, it was that faction that gained power under the leadership of Enver Hoxha.

Hoxha was one of the most radical Communist leaders in the Communist block, always allying himself with the most extreme element. When Yugoslavia broke ranks with the Soviet Union in 1948, Albania sided with the U.S.S.R., partly to rid itself of Yugoslavian influence. Later, in 1961, when a rift developed between the U.S.S.R. and China, Albania backed China’s more radical position of non-coexistence with the capitalist world. Albania thus became China’s one ally in Europe while also severely isolating itself from all of its neighbors. China provided aid to Albania until 1978, when Albania broke off that alliance because of the thaw in China’s relationship with the United States. So, Hoxha led Albania for forty years down the rosy path of radical isolation right into the garden of abject poverty. Albany’s rigid isolation effectively kept the extremity of its impoverished condition hidden from the rest of the world.

After Hoxha’s death in 1985, Ramiz Alia took over and instituted a series of economic reforms and once again allowed religious activities, hoping to stave off the collapse of Communist control that was sweeping other European nations. It was too little too late, however, and the people staged protests demanding the end of Communist rule. In 1991, multiparty elections were held but it was mainly the same leadership that was elected – some as members of the Communist Party and some after joining other, newly formed political parties. During this period of chaos, the conditions of poverty long evident in Albania grew acute, resulting in a flood of tens of thousands of emigrants, with Italy and America the two primary destinations.

In 1991, the new government opened its arms to capitalist investment and began offering government grants as start-up funds for businesses, giving preference to those who had suffered under the yoke of Communist control. The first foreign businessmen and investors to make their way into the “new” Albania were from Italy. Unfortunately, many were swindlers with schemes aimed at bilking the Albania government out of its financial aid as quickly as possible. This is where the story of Lamerica picks up.

The director of Lamerica, Gianni Amelio, was born in 1945 in San Pietro Magisano in the province of Catanzaro in Italy, during a time when Italy itself was suffering under terrible economic hardships not unlike those depicted for Albania in Lamerica. Amelio’s father left the family before the boy turned two, emigrated to America to escape the economic conditions in Italy, and didn’t return for seventeen years! Gianni was raised by his grandmother, who took him to the cinema each week. She encouraged him to seek higher education when he expressed an interest in filmmaking. In the 1960’s, he gained his initial experience as a professional in filmmaking working as an assistant director under Vittorio de Seta on a number of so-called “Spaghetti Westerns.” He made his own first feature film, called The End of the Game, in 1970. His breakout film came in 1982: Blow to the Heart, starring Jean-Louis Trintignant. Amelio’s reputation was elevated another notch in 1990 with Open Doors, which was nominated for an Academy Award in the Best Foreign Film category. He followed that in 1992 with The Stolen Children, which received the Grand Jury Prize at Cannes. Then came Lamerica in 1994, which won the Osello Award for Best Film at the Venice Film Festival. He added still another triumph in 1998 with The Way We Laughed, winning the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival. Amelio is the only director ever to win three Felix Awards for Best European Film.

The Story: The story for this film is rather thin and outlining it doesn’t really do the film much justice because this is a film that’s merits rest with its portrayal, through images, of the hardships of life in Albania. Two Italian con artists masquerading as businessmen have come to Albania to make a quick bundle through a phony business venture aimed at coaxing a grant from the fledgling Albanian government. Gino (Enrico Lo Verso) is the brash young assistant of Fiore (Michele Placido). Both are equally unscrupulous and arrogant in their sense of superiority to the Albanians. Their plan is to set up a shoe factory that will never actually get around to making shoes. The key to their embezzlement scheme is to find an Albanian citizen to front for the corporation – a “straw man”, in effect – who can sign off on the necessary grant application documents. Someone with credentials as an anti-Communist hero would be ideal as well as someone without any family connections that could prove troublesome when the swindle finally goes down. They find a “Chairman” for their dummy corporation in the person of Spiro Tozai (Carmelo de Mazzarelli), a feeble-minded homeless vagrant recently released from prison after fifty years of confinement under the Communists. Tozai survived in prison by blocking it all out and still believes himself to be twenty years of age. Gino and Fiore get Tozai’s signature of the requisite documents and then dump him in a nursing home.

A bit later, it transpires that a few more signatures are required and Gino is sent to pick up Tozai. Tozai, however, has left, having been deposited at the train station by one of the nursing home staff. Tozai, it seems, is not really Albanian at all, but an Italian army deserter from World War II, named Michele Talarico, and his intent is to return to Sicily, his home, where he fully expects to find the wife and son that he left behind, at the same age when he left them. Gino, traveling by jeep, desperately follows after Talarico and overtakes him, finally, but, in doing so, Gino has isolated himself in the desperate conditions of rural Albania. He is ripe for victimization, what with his jewelry, flashy clothes, and his arrogant attitude. Soon, the tires are stolen from his jeep when he walks around to the back of a building to take a leak. In another village, a group of tormenting children almost kill Talarico by asphyxiation. With Talarico in tow, Gino must now travel by the decrepit buses of Albania, but soon finds himself caught up in the mass exodus of refugees from Albania, headed toward Italy. Gino discovers that his cash has little value in rural villages, that food is difficult to obtain, and that water is often unavailable for days at a time.

Bit by bit, Gino’s prideful insistence that he is an Italian citizen carries less and less weight. His condition gradually deteriorates to the level of the Albania citizenry – the very people that he was out to defraud with his swindle. At one “hotel”, now fully occupied by refugees, Gino incredulously observes a young Albanian girl joyously dancing in wild abandon, imitating what she has seen on Italian television. Gino unloads his traveling companion at one locale after learning that both he and “The Chairman” have been “fired” from the dummy corporation. At the Italian embassy, where he hopes to find aid, he is arrested by Albanian authorities and imprisoned. He is thrown into a cell full of desperate men. It is left to the viewer’s imagination exactly what transpires, but we learn later that he has had to “trade” his fine clothes to survive. He is later released, “awaiting trial,” but without his passport and advised to get out of Albania before the trial date. With no passport, money, or other resources, Gino desperately hops a boat headed to America – only to discover Talarico on board as well. Talarico, having already survived fifty years in prison, is better able to weather the hardships on board ship than the newly deflated Gino, and, in a final irony, becomes something of a father figure for him.

Themes: Although this film is often described as having a political agenda, I would call it more a sociological one. Amelio is nothing if not evenhanded, skewering every shade of the political spectrum with equal alacrity. The Fascists are hammered in the opening, the Communists fare no better, and the capitalists roar into Albania as so many hustlers and swindlers. In fact, one of the characters points out that the rulers are the same, only the names of the political parties had changed. Amelio doesn’t even glamorize the impoverished Albanians. They steal whenever Gino leaves any one of his possessions unguarded. A group of Albanian children very nearly kills Talarico. A truck load of Albanian refugees ignore a man dying in their midst.

Amelio is at no small pains to encourage viewers to observe the irony of the Italians, who suffered miserably in the period immediately following World War II, now having become the arrogant, heartless exploiters of the suffering Albanians. One can’t help but notice that Amelio’s film style harks back to the neo-realism by which the likes of Rossellini and De Sica illuminated the bleak conditions in post-war Italy. The obvious message is that power corrupts. Those victimized by poverty who then climb the economic ladder don’t necessarily retain sympathy after their ascent for others victimized by poverty. It’s a sad statement about human nature – a sort of vicious cycle. When the lower class rises up to middle class status or the middle class to wealth, they typically adopt the exploitive attitudes of the class that they’ve joined and develop amnesia for their old circumstances. Gino implores the authorities, “I’m Italian, don’t you understand?”, clinging to his assumption of superiority. Stripped of his trappings, however, he’s just as vulnerable as any Albanian peasant.

Lamerica is unusually rich in its thematic range. Another message pertains to immigration policies. In 1991, Italy chose to close its border with Albany, fearing that its prosperity would be overwhelmed by the sudden influx of tens of thousands of refugees. Yet we see, especially in the final boat scene, that hope for a better life, by emigration, is all that impoverished people sometimes have to keep them going. The one positive message among the dreadful ones, in this film, is that somehow people retain the capacity for hope by holding onto a vision of a better life in some far off land of honey, of which America is emblematic.

Another powerful theme of this film is that political freedom is one thing, but it doesn’t amount to nearly enough if it is not accompanied by economic opportunity. Albanians gained freedom in 1991, but it was mainly manifested as the freedom to starve and do without water. Similarly, all too many people living in ghettos in America today have “freedom”, but without meaningful opportunities for education or employment, they’re often destined for early death or incarceration. There’s also a little bit of poking fun at Italian television and its inane frivolous content that contrasts so sharply with the living conditions of the Albanians.

Production Values: This film has a distinctly documentary feel about it. It’s packed with thought-provoking themes. We expect to be educated by documentaries and Amelio’s pseudo-documentary approach here succeeds very thoroughly in that respect. Unfortunately, the film is not especially successful as entertainment. The plot is razor thin and most of it occurs within the first half-hour. After that, it’s an extended odyssey across the barren wilderness of humanity. The principal characters are not very well developed and no one in the film is particularly sympathetic. Gino’s descent into poverty and desperation is interesting, but stretched out over an hour-and-a-half, it is slow going.

Considering that Amelio used mostly non-professionals, the performances are quite satisfactory. Amelio found Carmelo de Mazzarelli on a street in Sicily and coached him in the role of Talarico, scene by scene. Michele Placido, on the other hand, is a professional actor. He appeared, for example, in Three Brothers (1980). The star power was provided by Enrico Lo Verso and it is he who carries the film. He also starred in such films as The Stolen Children (1992) and Farinelli: Il Castrato (1994).

Bottom-Line: This is a very intelligent film that examines profound issues of cultural and class identity without taking sides politically. This is a film that commands utmost respect for what it teaches, but which, unfortunately, fails to entertain very well while providing its cold and harsh lessons. Be advised that any rating for this film will be inaccurate for many viewers. If learning about the people of a particular time and place is one of your priorities and you have tolerance for a slow-paced film with relatively little plot, this film could be a five-star film for you. You’ll rarely find a more vivid and substantial portrayal of an ethnic group. If , however, you’re looking mainly for entertainment value, I doubt that this film is going to provide that for you. It’s more likely to be a two-star or three-star event for you. I’m going to split the difference and rate this film at four-stars, but be forewarned that not all viewers will experience it as such. Lamerica is in Italian with optional English subtitles. The extras include a few deleted scenes, an alternative ending (barely different), a theatrical trailer, photo album, and poster gallery. The running time is 116 minutes.

Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Better than Watching TV
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older