Old Academy Anew goes back to its Italian roots this month. As comedies go, THE GIRL WITH THE PISTOL (La Ragazza con la Pistola) won’t make you roll on the floor but snicker at the absurdities of humanity. It depicts honor and the lengths people might travel to enforce their sense of duty; especially to the social norms oppressing them. Wow, sounds a lot like the shenanigans drowning society today; you’d think shit has changed after fifty-some years.
PRIDE & PREJUDICE
The film starts with people dancing— separated by gender. Several guys dance together on a roof while two girls sway in each other’s arms inside an apartment across the street. This threw me off for a minute. Our soon-to-be main lead is embraced by a short dude staring lovingly into our protagonist’s eyes. Not perturbed by such open adoration, Vincenzo Macaluso (Carlo Giuffrè) keeps looking (through their window) at the two dancing women; both are young and pretty in their own right but physically different. The girls aren’t indifferent to the men on the not-distant roof, though. They steal glances now and then, and we are to assume, at least one of them covets Vincenzo.
THE GIRL WITH THE PISTOL STARTS IN AN IDYLLIC TOWN BY THE SEA WITH AN IMPRESSIVE WATERFRONT TAKING CENTER STAGE IN MANY EVOCATIVE MOMENTS THROUGHOUT THE FILM.
After a minute or two, Vincenzo quits the roof and goes for a smoke. The women congregated in the apartment with our window-staged couple are of varied ages and sizes. Still, all sport black from head to toe. If I weren’t familiar with Catholic countries, I’d think the meeting was a viewing; still, between the snappy music and the lack of religious chants and wailing it couldn’t be so. The apparent matriarch of the group decides to take the dancing girls with her to the pharmacy for some aspirin. Why are they being so specific about the article they are getting? Who knows, perhaps at the time “aspirin” had a hidden meaning in Italy, because this purchase comes up later in the movie as something they shouldn’t have done. Never mind the why; our concern is the errand’s outcome.
Vincenzo sends his minions to grab one of the girls. A chase ensues, and it’s pretty comical both in action and depiction. The women of the town try to help by throwing stuff from their windows as the goons try to catch the girls. The scene is over the top, over dramatic, and insanely farcical. Assunta (Monica Vitti), the girl they finally grab, is so concerned with appearing in distress— it’s obviously fake.
Ensconced in his lair, Vincenzo awaits the prize, only to discover they brought the wrong girl. You see, our Italian macho wanted the short, curvy cousin. His thugs thought he wanted the tall, more conventionally pretty one. He tries to dismiss her, but she insists the townsfolk saw her get kidnapped, so he’s responsible for her now. Her honor is on the line. Vincenzo must marry Assunta.
A TALE AS OLD AS TIME, THE GIRL WITH THE PISTOL BOILS DOWN TO A WOMAN LUSTING AFTER A MAN AND FINDING A WAY TO FORCE HIM INTO MARRIAGE WITHOUT GETTING PREGNANT FIRST.
But our hero ain’t buying the cow without sampling the milk. Pretty sure I’m botching that one, but I like the way it sounds. So, Vincenzo proceeds to handle the goods while Assunta makes the flimsiest, most laughable of token resistances ever put to film. It’s not going to read funny in 2022 with how literal people are today, but, hey, what are you gonna do? This film was not made for twenty-second-century sensibilities.
Assunta awakes alone, debauched, and abandoned. Her lengthy walk of shame back home ends with all the townsfolk waiting for her, long index fingers pointing accusatorially. The women of her family huddle together, black-clad and clutching the metaphorical pearls. Her fiancé shows up, trying to disavow her. She taunts him, “Shouldn’t you be defending my honor?”
“That’s for the men of your family,” the cuckold answers. His robotic, dispassionate demeanor gives us reason to understand why Assunta lusted after the exuberant Vincenzo.
Alas, there are no men left in Assunta’s family; thus, she has to take justice into her own hands. Next, we see our heroine at the train station. Her womenfolk equip her (among other things) with money, a pistol, the traitor’s address, and a small printed image of San Giovanni. Which of all Saint Johns were given for protection, we do not find out. Interestingly, when the matriarch tells Assunta to conceal the money by her breast, the close captioning chooses to translate it as “put it in your jacket.” Luckily, Italian and Spanish are sisters, so I caught the actual mammary word and allowed my inner teenager to have his giggle.
THE GIRL WITH THE PISTOL’S TITLE CARD EXPLODES AS ASSUNTA BOARDS THE TRAIN, UNLEASHING A TRAVEL MONTAGE FROM SICILY TO GREAT BRITAIN WITH A VERY HIPPIE TUNE TO KEEP US IN THE MO(O)D.
Assunta is also armed with a one-way ticket. She doesn’t need a return ticket; once the deed is done, she only needs to report it to the police. Deportation is her way back home.
SENSE & SENSIBILITY
How the womenfolk knew Vincenzo’s location in Scotland is anyone’s guess. Let’s just assume they live in one of those towns where everybody is on top of each other’s business. The long journey ends at another train station where a woman is calling out for female passengers. Italian female passengers. For some reason, this reminded me of when I used to work for the Department of Health at the airport. My division was in charge of giving the señoritas entering the country to become “dancers” in gentlemen’s nightclubs an orientation speech. Some were very nice girls.
One Scottish lady learns her girl didn’t come because she found a man to get married to. The informant is not there to take the position, though; she went home just for a visit and has a very steady position with another family. Incidentally, Assunta stops this lady for directions. The lady gives the details needed. On a whim, she chases after our heroine, and they walk side by side. She offers her the job: no kids, good pay, television, time for English lessons, and Sundays off for dancing. Hey, even I’d take that position!
The mention of dancing is what makes Assunta halt. She puts her suitcase down and turns to look the lady straight in the eye. “I do not dance,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “And I am not a maid. Excuse me.” Grabbing her things, she holds her head high and starts walking again, but the lady insists.
HERE THE GIRL WITH THE PISTOL DELIVERS A STATEMENT THAT’S MOST EXTRAORDINARY IN ITS ORIGINAL FORM BECAUSE THE TRANSLATION SUBTRACTS IMPACT FROM THE WORDS.
Assunta gives her reasons for being on British soil. “I have to run an errand then leave straight away.” Errand might be an acceptable translation for “commissione,” but its meaning is way deeper in context. It’s a mandate— something she must accomplish, no matter the consequences. You run an errand, but you fulfill a “commission.” Nevertheless, the scene concludes with Assunta accepting the lady’s address (just in case) and marching away to find the traitor. We know where this is going. That Scottish lady is a big-ass, human Chekhov’s gun.
We visit whatever city this is with Assunta. Its urban environment is monstrous: sewn-together behemoth buildings and streets full of colorful and seemingly lustful pedestrians. Our heroine looks alien here black-clad, chaste long braid swinging behind her, umbrella on one side, suitcase on the other. She finally reaches the address in her hand: a restaurant. Through the windows, she sees waiters singing in deep tones as they deliver their delicacies to each table. You might think this a cacophony because each waiter sings his own song, but it’s actually quite pleasing. We get further confirmation of that fact when we notice most of the current patrons are female. Add the handsome minstrels dressed like Venetian Gondoliers, and you have the full picture.
Assunta gets the opportunity to engage one of the waiters and asks if Vincenzo works there. The man looks at her suspiciously, offering a resounding, “No.” Assunta says she’s family when he questions her reason for being there. Perhaps, she’s truly a relative, so the waiter goes in search of the traitor, who we find in the kitchen, whisking something. A woman looking for him doesn’t seem a rare occurrence. Alas, when he discovers it’s a Sicilian with a long, dark braid, he grabs his coat and stampedes out of the restaurant. The Roadrunner has nothing on that Italian Stallion.
ASSUNTA’S DEMEANOR IS ALWAYS STOIC AND SEVERE BUT NEVER WOODEN. THE GIRL WITH THE PISTOL GIVES US A WOMAN ABSOLUTELY FOCUSED ON HER MISSION REGARDLESS OF DETOURS, DELAYS, OR DISAPPEARING ACTS.
The waiter returns to inform our heroine Vincenzo has gone on vacation for a couple of weeks. He offers a place to stay if she doesn’t have one, hinting his bed is big enough for two. This won’t be the only time the weapon heralded in the title appears to defend her inconveniently sullied honor. Thank the scriptwriters for that Chekhov’s gun because now she has a place to stay (with an income) while she waits for the traitor to emerge from wherever hole he crept into to avoid her.
Interestingly, Vincenzo shows up on his own after a while via phone call. This happens in the middle of a reception the couple is giving to a very eclectic group of friends. The husband is the one who receives the collect call, giving it to Assunta after accepting the charges. The traitor is calling to ask her to stop looking for him and go back to Italy. A passionate argument follows. All translated by the hostess to the party at large blow by blow. After all, the shindig has stopped, focusing on the drama unfolding before them.
When Assunta hangs up, she asks if the place from where Vincenzo called is far from there. Upon learning the distance, she takes off her apron and quits.
PERSUASION
We tour Great Britain along Assunta in search of her defiler. Shenanigans ensue thanks to her rural beauty, foreign stoicism, and convoluted sense of honor.
THE GIRL WITH THE PISTOL MIGHT BE AN ITALIAN FILM BUT IT’S FIRMLY ENTRENCHED IN THE BRITISH AESTHETIC OF THE MOD MOVEMENT BOTH IN THEMES AND IMAGERY/SOUND.
Several men enter Assunta’s life for varied reasons as she hunts down Vincenzo. Here we see that she’s not indifferent to men; she just really wants the traitor to marry her. The excuse for the world is her honor— the reason is her love for him. It’s an obsessive compulsion that should be her doom but ends up being her redemption.
This film has awesome visuals, excellent music, and a story that will keep you engaged. What it doesn’t have is a true sense of time. We never know if what we’re seeing is happening days, weeks, or months after the previous scene. After a while, you realize time has passed because Assunta has a different haircut and colorful clothes.
I can understand having a vibrant Italian community in Great Britain, but there are scenes entirely not in English when we know none of the people around are from that country. Yes, it’s an Italian film, but that took me out of the action more than once. I suppose the people from the last leg of the 1960s weren’t inclined to read subtitles. Interestingly, according to Wikipedia, this film was never shown in British cinemas…
I CANNOT SEE A REMAKE POSSIBILITY FOR THE GIRL WITH THE PISTOL. NOT IF YOU WANT TO KEEP THE MAIN THEMES OF THE STORY. THE CONVOLUTED ABSURDITIES OF THE FILM WILL GO RIGHT OVER THE HEADS OF TODAY’S SOCIETY.
Our current inability to appreciate, let alone understand subtext and metaphors has rendered all true bouts of creativity null and void. Also, the lackluster heroines of today could not handle a situation like Assunta’s. Yes, they can all kick ass and do vengeance, but scriptwriters have forgotten how to portray femininity. Right now, fragile means weak. Remember how men weren’t supposed to cry and show their feelings? It seems like no human being is allowed to show feelings in this century’s movies. But just there— in the real world anyone can be triggered by the silliest thing, throw tantrums, and whine like newborns. Sigh.
I highly recommend this movie. 8 out of 10 because the “wibbly wobbly, timey wimey” timeline annoyed me a bit.
For more information on The Girl With The Pistol, visit the IMDB.