L'Eclisse
d. Michelangelo Antonioni, 1962
L'Eclisse will not only have to go down in history as Michelangelo Antonioni's most accomplished work, but also as one of the great masterpieces of the cinema. When I first discovered it about a year ago, I preferred his L'Avventura and I felt that this film lacked the same kind of well-thought out meaning behind it. After rewatching L'Eclisse, it becomes clear what Antonioni is trying to say (though some details are up to the viewer) and, perhaps more importantly, how effectively he is able to present it on the screen.
The film centers around Vittoria (Monica Vitti), a young translator who during the opening sequences of the movie is breaking up with her boyfriend Riccardo (Francisco Rabal). Antonioni shoots this extended sequence (which takes place in Riccardo's house) with beautiful medium-shots of both of the characters. The scene continues when Vittoria decides to walk out and Riccardo follows her on his car.
After the opening scenes, Vittoria goes to the stock market to find her mother (Lilla Brignone), who pays little attention to her and is not at all interested in her break-up with Riccardo (at least not until she needs money later on). There, Vittoria runs into Piero (Alain Delon), a young stockbroker who happens to work for her mother. The film then becomes about both Vittoria and Piero, although most of the thematic groundwork revoles around Vittoria.
Piero and Vittoria's relationship is shot in scenes in long intervals. A lot of the action of the film deals with Vittoria's own insecurities and dissatisfaciton with the world she finds herself in. One night while looking for her neighbor's dog, she says that "here, everything is difficult, even love." This is but one of the many examples Antonioni presents of the inability to express real emotions in the modern world.
On a technical level alone, L'Eclisse is as astonishing as nearly any other film. Antonioni understands film grammar better than possibly any director, and his compositions in this film are breathtaking. Paired with Gianni Di Venanzo's (who also shot Fellini's 8 1/2) black-and-white cinematography, the film creates a spellbinding visceral experience that almost stands aside from Antonioni's actual storyline.
The episodic structure of the film is not unlike that of other Italian films of the time, like Fellini's 8 1/2 or La Dolce Vita, or Antonioni's own L'Avventura. Although some would argue that this kind of loose cohesive structure dimishes the viewing experience, I personally find it more exhilarating than the standard three-act structure.
The last seven minutes of the L'Eclisse are a masterpiece on their own. In what has been described as a visual essay, Antonioni is able to craft what is possibly the most astonishing sequence in all his work. He shoots some of the same places that have been shown during the film, except that, for the most part, the streets are vacant and the different angles Antonioni shoots from (along with Giovanni Fusco's haunting score) create a hypnotic experience like no other. Yet, the closing sequence not only serves as an amazing part on its own, but also a brilliant conclusion to a masterful film.
L'Eclisse begins with Vittoria ending a relationship, and it ends with a seemingly unsuccessful relationship with Piero also ending. Their last exchange seems lively enough, but their corresponding sequences alone (with her leaving his house and him at his desk) seem to suggest that it is indeed not ever going to work. They promise to meet at 8:00 at their usual place. However, the visual essay at the end of the film shows the usual place (a street corner) several times at different times of the day, with no sign of the two (ex) lovers in sight. As a brilliant form of rhetoric, Antonioni shows people who resemble them walking into the frame, in order to give the audience false hope that these characters may indeed be able to have a successful relationship.
Indeed, the ending paints a pretty pessimistic portrait of modern life and the perils of trying to form a connection in a world based almost entirely on fleeting, superficial means.
