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Permette? Rocco Papaleo, which
translates as "Allow me, Rocco Papaleo," is a film directed by Ettore
Scola about the unfortunate experiences of a working class European
man in America.
The Character of Rocco Papaleo, played by Marcello
Mastroianni, was a boxer in Sicily before he
emigrated to Alaska in order to work in a mine. Somehow he and his
co-workers end up in Chicago, where he gets separated from his group.
Suddenly he walks right under the car of a gorgeous model, Jenny
(Lauren Hutton, who practically plays herself here),
whose face can be seen on billboards all over the city. She drags him around
town for a
while, which the naive and good-hearted man interprets the wrong way.
And so begins Rocco's Tour de Chicago, where he never seems to meet
nice persons or people without ulterior motives. The only person with whom he can connect is Djenghis Khan, an old street bum who always carries a bomb around
with him. When Khan dies as a result of a policeman behaving like a
real dirtbag, Rocco's fuses blow. Since he inherited the old guy's
bomb, we can guess what probably will happen next, although it is
never shown because the film ends right there. In hindsight,
"Marcello Mastroianni turns Unabomber" might have been a much more
intriguing title. As you may have already guessed I was not too
impressed with this movie. I don't know what Ettore Scola, who won
or was nominated for numerous film awards, hoped to achieve here. He
probably wanted to have a go at America, but by depicting everyone
as conniving bastards and making his lead character so naive and so out of touch
with reality that he makes Crocodile Dundee seem like a native New
Yorker, Scola only managed to create a distance between the characters
and the audience that prevents any involvement in the
story. Since it all seems surreal, you won't care what happens to Rocco or any
other character. The film remains watchable, though - mainly because
it tries to be humorous, something it achieves best during the witty
dialogue between Rocco and Djenghis. Add to that the solid
performances of the entire cast, full frontal nudity from a gorgeous
supermodel, and some above average camera work,
and you know why this feature barely manages to climb up to a C- in our rating system.
Perhaps this film worked better for its 1971
audience, but I seriously doubt it. I think we can consider ourselves lucky that Ettore Scola directed and Marcello Mastroianni played the male lead,
or otherwise some very nice gratuitous but way too short Lauren
Hutton nude
scenes, including one of the full frontal variety, might have
been lost forever. And losing that, my friends, unlike losing the film
itself,
would have been a real shame.
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