by Timothy Lyons
This year’s Best Actress discussion / post-BAFTA nomination shake-up has reached a new height of confused scrambling. Things have, for now, refocused on the single consistent presence throughout precursor season: Lady Gaga as the murderous Patrizia Reggiani in House of Gucci. When watching the film, it became clear to me how much Gaga’s distinctive visage bears striking resemblance to that of the great Italian star Monica Vitti. This came into sad focus today on my learning of the legend’s passing on Wednesday at the age of ninety from complications related to Alzheimer’s.
I will get quickly back to the subject at hand but to help in drawing out Vitti’s unique gifts, a little more on Gaga in Gucci as a comparison…
In the film, Gaga uses her prominent facial features in aid of a loud, ravenous and unhinged performance. Much was made of Gaga’s nose within the first act of A Star is a Born and here it pulls her face forward into laser focus while her feline eyes twitch and squint revealing each ulterior thought. ‘Patrizia’ generally thrashes and slices through proceedings, with each moment of quiet barely concealing a coming storm. She softens when she wants to, but her seductively soft pout can barely distract from the self-satisfying desires underneath. Whatever your thoughts on the value of the work and Gaga’s approach overall, there is no denying its highly presentational qualities and the fact that it feeds into the stereotype of Italian women as all fiery passion and barely concealed temper.
This is all in stark contrast to Monica Vitti who used her similarly striking face to very different ends. Vitti had a long and varied career across genres but found her place as an icon of Italian and world cinema as the creative and personal muse of Michelangelo Antonioni during the early 1960s. Vitti starred in the director’s loose ‘alienation’ trilogy of films as well as in Il deserto rosso (The Red Desert), the maestro’s first foray into color photography after years of shooting in crystalline black and white.
L'Avventura
L’avventura (1960), the first and inarguably most famous of the Antonioni/Vitti collaborations has the actor as Claudia, a woman in search of her dear friend Anna who has inexplicably disappeared on a visit to a small desolate island off Sicily. Claudia is aided in her subsequent inquiry by Anna’s boyfriend Sandro. This complicates things immeasurably as Claudia reckons with her romantic feelings for her investigative partner while trying to reconcile the potential betrayal of Anna and the distraction in the pursuit of her whereabouts. As the film continues to its close, our story becomes less about the search for Anna and more about the pursuit of connection and place in a world that wants to see us all dissolve into nothing. It sounds like heady convoluted stuff but it works in no small part thanks to Vitti.
With icy blonde hair, sad cat-like eyes in a distant stare and strong angular features fronted by a large and sharp snoot, Monica is a dichotomy of strength and fragility. She drives the plot beats almost singularly through her subtle shifts so that the narrative (such as it is presented) is able to flow freely and without feeling labored. Vitti imbues the character with an inscrutability that is both distancing and incredibly alluring. One is never entirely sure where her allegiances lie or where her thoughts have landed. She is easy to empathize with but almost impossible to comprehend and it is this that makes her so eminently fascinating. Gaga could have used a little more of this quality in her work. It is never in doubt that Patrizia is only after the riches and clout her marriage brings and this unwavering singularity makes the character hard to hold interest over Gucci’s lengthy running time. While Gaga is always watchable, she is never quite as gripping as she should be. Additionally, both actors aim to present someone who is both of the world and alien to it, but only Vitti manages this with a sense of grace that comes with the full embodiment of a character as a living, breathing person beyond individual dramatic beats.
La Notte
Vitti’s strange appeal extends to her place as an object of desire. In La Notte (1961), Vitti plays Valentina - the ‘other woman’ getting between a marriage at the point of disenchantment and boredom. Vitti imbues the character with a wink, a warmth and an intelligence that adds depth beyond Antonioni’s visual poetry. There is also a quiet defiance that reads without narrative assistance but that still plays into the directorial vision. This highlights another of Vitti’s major gifts. Antonioni’s films are the definition of auteur cinema with their unique approach to storytelling and deliberate mis en scene. It would be easy for a performer to go to one of two extremes: fight against the proceedings for a moment to shine or else get lost altogether. It is testament to Vitti’s skills that neither is the case for her. She never grandstands or jostles for viewer focus but neither does she pale into the scenery. It helps of course that the camera loves her but as a performer, Vitti suffuses so much character history into every look and movement that she holds you rapt.
See also her work in The Red Desert (1964) giving desperate isolation throughout without it ever feeling one-note or in L’eclisse (1962) where she is able to project dissatisfaction, frivolity, a sense of crushing loneliness and a pursuit of happiness often within the same scene or moment while remaining grounded to a sense of reality. It is truly remarkable stuff, not least for its subtlety.
The Red Desert
I honestly didn’t intend this obit/article to be all Vitti vs Gaga up front - a comparison that is admittedly tenuous at best and based on little more than certain cultural and physical similarities. If nothing else I mean it to give a contemporary contextual bent and a way into an actor whose sizeable talents beyond auteurial vessel have never been given their deserved due. It could just as easily have been Vitti vs Chastain, Vitti vs Kidman or Vitti vs Stewart. If anyone this past year touched the levels of quiet depth that Vitti managed its Tessa Thompson in Passing. Greatness in performance is so much more than moments, awards-worthy ‘clips’ and being the loudest and ‘the most’ at any given opportunity. Great acting is often about living the person: the giving of oneself while keeping certain things close to the chest - as you do in life. It’s about being many things at once and embodying the messiness of that without telegraphing every turn or trait.
While Monica Vitti’s death is a great loss, it will hopefully bring about a rewatch and reappraisal of her work. Her legacy as an actor as well as an icon is undeniable. The Criterion Channel has L’Avventura, La Notte, L’eclisse and ‘Il deserto rosso all available for streaming.