Saw a 35mm screening of "L'avventura" last night at Anthology Film Archives, part of Jonas Mekas' 'Boring Masterpieces' series. Between the dogs barking/NYC firetrucks/ambulance sirens outside, the douchebag in the back of the theater making an orchestra out of his many plastic bags and the other douchebag sitting right next to me that kept fidgeting his jacket/snoring loudly every five minutes or so for the last 45 minutes I could have been excused for not enjoying myself. Not so, Kevin Costner's ability to shut off distractions in "For Love of the Game" has nothing on the way I ignored these distractions and kept my focus squarely on the screen. Beats seeing it for the first time on decade-old Criterion DVD (patron-supplied foley notwithstanding). I thought I was ready to handle whatever "L'avventura" threw at me because I'd already seen Antonioni's "The Passenger," "Blow-Up" and "Red Desert" on DVD/Blu-ray. But I was thrown a curveball because, despite featuring a healthy dose of Antonioni's mise-en-scène, this wasn't at all what I expected.

Like "Psycho" we're given someone who appears to be the lead in Anna (Lea Massari sure looks the part of a leading lady) and, when she literally vanishes, Claudia and Sandro become the movie's unlikely co-leads. To see how gradually Antonioni transforms the search for Anna into the effect that Anna's absence has unleashed on her friend & boyfriend (repressed lust that would have likely emerged through an affair between Claudia and Sandro had Anna married Sandro... which may be the reason Anna was refusing Sandro's marriage proposals), and how little in the end Anna meant to them (Monica Vitti's reaction of self-aware horror at her realization of her own vapid set of values is pretty powerful, even if soon after she's rolling in bed with Gabriele Ferzetti) is to watch a master director in complete control of his actors. By the time a potential lead into Anna's whereabouts comes up (the house where foreign girls are sent) we're not surprised when this potential clue to the mystery is not only not followed by Claudia and Sandro but completely ignored. "L'avventura" never seemed as slow or boring to me as I expected. From the yacht pleasentries (which were funny, something I'm not used to from Antonioni) to the island desolation (rock exteriors as well as the emotional states of those climbing over them), from the search for Anna to the train trist between Sandro and Claudia, from the romance at the hotel to that memorable final shot (more below), there's seldom a moment when something/someone isn't being the center of attention. Like Whit Stillman with his smart-ass NYC socialte elite characters Antonioni cares about these well-off characters' meaningless trists because he knows (a) their lifestyles/playgrounds make for great cinematic eye-candy and (b) that's the way they were raised so they're not bad, just blind to the normal emotions most normal folks would feel when their best friend/girlfriend disappears. And for Antonioni those character flaws are the perfect human metaphors that he needs to make the framing of his antiques, rocks, old churches and statues (a lot of human art in the background where these characters walk about, something that both humanizes but also diminishes the humanity of those that stand in front of these works of art) the visual representations of what his characters can't say or communicate like most normal folks would.

Compared with David Locke wondering around Barcelona in "The Passenger," the lengthy green grass shots in "Blow-Up" or the technology-ravaged wasteland of "Red Desert" I never felt "L'avventura" lacked in places to go, people doing things (children in church, fishermen, the Italian navy, etc.) or things that Claudia needed to say to Sandro, and/or viceversa. At first I thought, since this was the start of Antonioni's great international acclaim period, that his 'style' (as seen in the above-listed movies of his I've seen) wasn't perfected yet. But now I realize this is a completely different kind of movie. It's got the human isolation and eye for composition he's known for (I've never seen rocks, abandoned islands, churches and human beings so gorgeously photographed since I last saw my "Last Year at Marienbad" Blu-ray) but Antonioni never loses sight of the cracks between what his characters are supposed to be feeling (which we as a viewing audience have been conditioned/trained to expect for them to behave a certain way) and what we're shown them saying/doing. The movie's final shot is a freaking masterstroke because (IMO) it represents that Monica has achieved the freedom to pursue love, with Sandro or someone else, because she's been hurt by Sandro's betrayal with the Anna-lookalike (visually her half of the screen is an open view to the sky, the world and its infinite potential there for her to take) while Sandro is forever condemned to seek and do the same mistakes he's done over and over again (his half of the screen is a wall, a self-made cage of guilt for what he last said/did to Anna). Still trying to sort if the 'wall' around Sandro is true affection for Anna, which make him pursue (a) Anna's best friend (for whom Anna was very fond of, as seen while the women were changing clothes in the boat) and (b) an attractive brunette that sort-of looked like Anna. It's an ending open for interpretation and that's mine, but it probably will change when I see "L'avventura" a few more times as soon as it's released on Blu-ray. I'm a patient man, I'll wait.

The moment I saw that final shot of "L'avventura" it hit me that it was 'borrowed' by writer/director Kenneth Johnson for a scene in "The Incredible Hulk" TV pilot from 1977 (4:00 min. into the clip) that struck me as being a perfect visual metaphor for Banner's troubled personal life that led him to experiment with Gamma radiation. If Kenneth was going to steal a shot for his American network TV comic book TV adaptation (one of my five favorite TV shows of all time) at least Johnson stole from the best. :) And I don't know if it was the experience of seeing it in a decently-attended theatrical screening but this was the most funny (laughing with the movie, not at it) Antonioni movie experience I've had, especially the first part before Anna disappears (every other close-up of James Addams' Corrado or whenever Lelio Luttazzi's Raimondo is henpecked by his wife had the theater laughing). I'm not sure the same scenes would have made me laugh had I watched them alone at home in front of my 47" flat screen.

I was at this same exact screening (the dogs outside sounded like ravenous wolves) and this was my first time seeing the film as well. Dad1153 covered a lot of ground, so I'll just add a few scattered insights.

I saw this with two native Italian speakers. Both told me the translation on the print was exceedingly simple, losing much of the eloquence of the speech. My friend also explained how throughout the first section on the island, the characters used the "formal" way of speaking to each other to an extent that one would not realize they knew each other all that well. This is then much more jarring once we realize how intimate the characters actually are. At that point the speech changes to the "informal" style. I'm not sure this is something that could come through easily even with a strong English translation and it truly enhances the mysterious aura of the film, somehow making Antonioni's specific and overwhelming control seem that much more impressive.

This film is said to be the real genesis of Antonioni's style, and I think that rings true not just narratively, but also technically. It hit me with the shot of the two lovers driving off in their car as the camera pushes in ever so slowly, methodically revealing the church in the distance with eerie tension. I saw this and thought "He just figured out what he loves! Its that shot right there!" I could be totally off base, but it seemed right to me.

Finally, am I the only one who felt the final shot is terrifying? The sadness of the moment mixed with the frightening score building up seemed to say Claudia accepting the faults of Sandro, therefore accepting the imperfections of the human male, is her accepting the scariest truth of all.

By the way, was that you Dad who let out a sarcastic groan at the loud snoring man? It certainly made me laugh.

No, that was a dude in the front row (three rows ahead) that had enough; I was sitting right next to the snorer on the third row. I would have probably complained but I was munching on a McDonalds burger & fries. The stench of this fast food was enough to make me forgive the snorer next to me the same way Claudia forgave Sandro in the end (and just like the other attendees around me forgave me for bringing smelly food into the theater). :)

I finally watched this film a few weeks ago and wanted to add some thoughts about it. This is the third Antonioni film I've seen, as I watched The Blow-Up a few years ago as I was getting into films and watched the Passenger last year on my laptop. While there were parts of both of these movies I enjoyed (more of the latter than the former), I was ultimately left a bit confused about what to make of a lot of the films. As I learned a little more about the director, I came to realize this wasn't exactly unheard of when getting into his work. L'avventura seemed to be his most well-reputed film, so I wanted to take my time watching it, watch it on a good set-up and certainly while in the right mood.

I was absolutely blown away by the film. The scenery, the dialogue...and especially the pacing I found to be absolutely remarkable. And for such a seemingly bizarre tale, the movie really unfolds very naturally, especially when compared to my memory of The Passenger and Blow-Up (I don't remember really it making a lot of sense as to why Nicholson, for example, felt compelled to steal the guy's identity).

The part of the movie spent searching for Anna took what felt like a surprisingly long amount of time, or at least more than I expected it to, but it seemed to make sense.

Another thing I love, and it's alluded to on the early part of the commentary (the part I listened to), is how the characters seem to be one with the scenery. They are not outside of it or occupying it, but seemingly one with it. The parts of the film as they are searching for Anna, and the camera hangs above the actors as they seem to be at a loss for where she could be, reminded me a lot of High and Low, and the way Kurosawa's characters sort of stood stationary and thus acting more as scenery than actors.

Perhaps because I'm more familiar and comfortable with film, and had more of an idea what to "expect" from Antonioni, I certainly never felt like I was waiting for an ending and for everything to be solved. If there's one word I would use to describe how I felt watching this film, it would be engrossing. I felt totally absorbed with the film, as if I was experiencing it with the characters, and I was right along with them.

Hopefully it will get the blu ray treatment, but I must say, I didn't think the film looked that bad for a relatively older criterion, and there really weren't that many instances of lines down the screen and not that much damage in the print. (perhaps L'Eclisse is worse?) A really wonderful film that continues to occupy my thoughts!

Does anyone know what it is that Anna says around 5:45 between "But it's easy too" and "Understand?" Doesn't seem to be translated.

I watched this again the other day. I have the Umbrella DVD and it doesn't translate it either - would like to know the answer to this question, too.


I think this is one of the tense-est endings ever, but for a different reason.

If we take the view that Anna's disappearance represents a transcendence of the ruined emotional landscape that Antonioni depicts - she was becoming disillusioned with her vaguely-defined relationship with the chauvinist Sandro and was beginning to form an identity outside of the group of 'friends'. She performs perhaps the only truly kind gesture of the film - giving Claudia her shirt without telling her - and the books she leaves behind show that she has respect for pure emotional expression (Tender Is the Night) and the religion that Antonioni appears to believe bound the community experience together (the Bible). She wants more than is being offered and, although I don't believe it is the point of the film that we know exactly where she went to, by disappearing she is attaining personhood. However, the fact that, in doing so, she vanishes, shows that the strength of will to define an identity is not accepted as a realistic part of this 'new world'.

Claudia's trajectory as a character in the film stands in contrast to Anna's: she starts off quite autonomous, the only character with a lower-middle-class background (which counts for something in Antonioni's character gallery), she appears to be the only one truly moved by Anna's disappearance, but becomes more and more a puppet of Sandro's self-pitying emotional need as the film wears on. By the end I think that by placing her hand on his head and accepting his betrayal of her, she is sacrificing her self to a feeble idea of intimacy that carries no weight whatsoever in the film's empty postwar emotional and societal milieu. You can see the dilemma in the movement of her hand and in her eyes - should she cave to Sandro's (crocodile, IMO) tears and console him, submitting to his emotional abuse, infantilisation and objectification of her, or should she show a strength of will that only Anna showed and, like her, 'disappear' from his life? That she chooses the former shows a rather bleak outlook for human relations. People have interpreted the active volcano as a symbol of dormant life or passion - I think it is foreboding of further emotional disaster. And the impassive wall speaks for itself. To be honest, it kind of annoys me when people see this ending as optimistic, because I see the construction of the final sequence, the ominous music that reaches that piercing height, and that hesitant twitch of Vitti's hand, as all functioning to fill out a darker interpretation.

One of the best final shots in all cinema, imo - this is also my favourite film.

Wonderful photograph! It is so strange to see it in colour! (And someone has moved the drainpipe!)

For comparison purposes:

B&W for the win!

It's remarkable to be able inhabit the spaces of the final scenes of L'AVVENTURA, in the hotel, and here on a raised car parking area outside, my photos are personal aide memoires, but also clues to the geography of the shoot... Of course completely bowing to the mastery of the original conception (after all I'm writing a book on the guy)... I've now been to several MA locations, and his decoupage of the space is fascinating, none more than here in Taormina...

In answer to the dialogue question, I think she says "Sì, perche pensi quello che vuoi, come vuoi" - "Yes, because you think what you want, how you want".

We were here last September for a day and I remember staring at this wall and balcony but not knowing why. This is incredible!! I had no idea Taormina was one of the locations....

We were lucky to get out of Valverde where we were staying that day as Etna was doing one of its frequent 12 hour outpourings. When we got back eveyrthing was layered with volcanic ash.

FWIW every time I watch L'Avventura I think it's his masterpiece, at least until I watch L'Eclisse.

It's amazing how two films can be so similar and yet so different.They certainly find MA at the pinnacle of his craft.

If the greatest of filmmakers manage to fill their films with richnesses that are never rendered visually onscreen nor articulated by anyone in the cast, meanings and subtexts that the director never hamhandedly specifically has to mention, then Antonini is in the front ranks of greats (which is of course old news).

Really tough call between L'A and L'E. . . I dont think I could choose. Depends on where I'm at at any given moment in terms of mood& inclination.

I will be in Sicily for two weeks next month. Taomina is on my itinerary. Is the San Domenico Palace where L'avventuras final frame was shot free to people to walk around? How do I get to that spot where Claudia laid her hand on the back of Sandro's head? Any other Antonioni sites worth checking out while in Sicily?

The final shot is from the easily accessible public carpark outside the San Domenico Palace, access to the hotel itself, where all the interior final scenes were shot, is problematical if you're not a guest - it's basically private... You could also visit the Baroque town of Noto, where Sandro & Claudia ring the bells...

Marvelous! Just for kicks, I googled this spot, and there's actually a "street view" of this area. Funny to see so many cars cluttering that spot now, I never realized it was (or rather now is) a parking lot.

This shows better the overall geography...

What's mind-blowing is that I've walked past there dozens of times and even sat and chatted on a short wall next to that building without realizing...

Reminds me of the film location essays on Kino's Keaton releases.

ellipsis7 - thank you sooo much!

And here is another grab from the film for comparison purposes:

Antonioni added the bench for the scene, perhaps?

Perhaps the true mystery of L'avventura is: where did that bench go? And now that it is gone, do we continue?

Looking at the screen-grab again, it does seem kind of ridiculous that the bench is placed over two parking spaces in a parking lot. Oh well, it makes for a spectacular closing shot even if the bench itself is impractical.