Luchino Visconti’s first film, 1943’s Ossessione (aka Obsession) ran into trouble from the moment it was made. Too raunchy for Catholic Italy, and an abomination in the eyes of the Fascists, it hit further obstacles once James M Cain found out that Visconti had adapted his The Postman Always Rings Twice without crediting him. And once MGM released their own adaptation of the novel in 1946, even more legal obstructions were put in its way.
But it did get seen, was well received and launched Visconti on his way.
Superficially it’s very close to the Cain original, and MGM’s movie. A vagrant blows into an out-of-the-way roadside eatery/bar/filling station, immediately catches the eye of the much-younger wife of the lardy bloviator who owns the place and together the two of them embark on a tempestuous affair which will end in ruin for all concerned.
Most famously Lana Turner and John Garfield play the two hotly-in-lust lovers in the 1946 version, with Jessica Lange and Jack Nicholson taking those roles in the 1981 remake. Other versions exist – Christian Petzold’s (Cain also uncredited) excellent version, Jerichow, starring Nina Hoss and Benno Fürmann. And there’s György Fehér’s highly regarded Szenvedély (aka Passion), from 1998, which does credit Cain (and which I started watching but had to abandon on account of the grim image quality of the ancient VHS).
Visconti’s twist is to make Gino the tramp, played by Massimo Girotti, a sexual as well as geographic vagrant. In a complete departure from Cain’s original story, in Ossessione Gino leaves his new love Giovanna behind at one point, strikes out on his own and eventually forms a new relationship with a street entertainer called only The Spaniard (aka Lo spangolo and played by Elio Marcuzzo). The Spaniard is Visconti and his fellow writers’ creation and he is there to introduce a further layer of sexual chicanery to the already twisted story.
There is no overt physicality between Gino and the Spaniard, but in scenes they share together they stare at each other with cow eyes, sway when near each other, stand a little too close. The Spaniard re-appears later on towards the end, when Gino has gone back to Giovanna and killed her husband, to have what can only be called a coded conversation about their relationship. “You know my sort never settle down,” the Spaniard tells Gino as they argue.
Gino’s looks, wavy blond hair like something out of Michelangelo, means he only looks like a tramp in the way a catwalk model at a Giorgio Armani show might look like one – artfully. As for Clara Calamai, the role was originally meant to go to Anna Magnani, who might have injected a bit more pizzazz into it, but for the most part Calamai is fine as the wife/lover dressed in spider-black even before she’s widowed.
Ossessione is often referred to as a neo-realist film but it’s really fairer to call it film noir with neo-realist touches. There are also influences from the exotic, highly dressed sets of Josef von Sternberg, and the beauty lighting that Calamai gets is reminiscent of Sternberg’s treatment of Marlene Dietrich.
Gino and Giovanna are really characters from the 19th century, heroically damned creatures who might have stepped out of a Flaubert novel. They are people who are rootless, feckless, all over the place, and the only real hero in this tragic tale is the fat dead husband of Giovanna (played brilliantly by Dhia Cristiani, who, suffering for his art, even gets his shirt off early on, to point up the difference between his blubbery torso and Girotti’s muscular one).
It is a beautiful looking movie and bear in mind when watching it that this is a second generation image – the Fascists destroyed all the originals, and the only reason we can see the film at all these days is because Visconti had a dupe of his original negative.
Too long? Yes, sadly, it’s too long. Blame it on Cain.
Obsession aka Ossessione – Watch it/buy it at Amazon
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© Steve Morrissey 2023
