The Cavalier daily :: Thursday, March 5, 1970 :: University of Virginia Library

Every once in a while I emerge
from a movie theatre with a feeling
of guilt. This guilt arouses from the
fact I have enjoyed a poor movie. I
watch "grade B" thrillers and
science fiction dramas whenever I
get the chance. I believe I am one
of the few people alive who has
seen "King Kong" in Charlottesville,
Cincinnati, and New York...a
dubious achievement no doubt, but
nonetheless, one I am proud of.
"The Jackie Robinson Story" still
sends chills up my spine and I
continue to get misty whenever I
see "Father Flanagan's Boy's
Town" or "I Remember Mama."

The question is (partly, at least),
what kind of critic am I? Indeed,
what am I doing, sitting in the
judge's chair, damning some films,
loudly praising others when my
own personal quirks stand by,
ready to shove me into the abyss of
subjectivism? The answer to this
question can be answered by a
simple confession. I am a romantic.
I am a dreamer and sentimental
films while insulting my rationality
still strike an emotional chord.

Television Style

All of which brings me to "The
Secret of Santa Vittoria." Stanley
Kramer's latest is by no means a
significant cinematic
accomplishment. Mr. Kramer's style
of direction belongs on television.
Each and every show can be
anticipated with case. His panning
is tedious and his use of the zoom
lens is disappointingly nondescript.
If the possibility arises see how
much more powerfully the latter is
used by Visconti in "The Damned."
The love scenes in the film are
embarrassingly antiquated except in
one instance when Mr. Kramer
closes in on the mouths of two
lovers in which case one gets the
feeling he is watching two fish
gasping for air.

The acting is adequate but in no
way impressive. Sergio Franchi is
the sole exception. As an actor, Mr.
Franchi is a great singer.

Bellows And Snorts

At the base of "The Secret of
Santa Vittoria" is Anthony Quinn
and here is where my critical status
rests most insecurely, Quinn once
again plays the role of the earthy
lover of life. He bellows and snorts.
He falls into melancholy. He is an
audacious age, a kind of back alley
philosopher. The role is not an
uncommon one for him. After
"Zorba the Greek" and "Dream of
Kings" the image may pale. Alas! I
continue to fall for it. This type of
character always appeals to me;
Anthony Quinn portrays this type
of individual effortlessly; and that
is why I wind up enjoying a movie
such as "Secret of Santa Vittoria."

Romantic Fare

So, if you wish to see an
example of true cinematic artistry,
see "They Shoot Horses..." If you
are a romantic fool like this critic,
see "Santa Vittoria." Obviously if
you qualify under both categories
see both.

* * *

COMPLAINTS DEPARTMENT

Where has everyone been the
past two Sundays when some of the
finest shorts were being shown in
Newcomb Hall Ballroom? How
disappointing it was to see only a
few people watching Truffaut's
"Les Miston," a short which
contains many of the lyrical seeds
for "400 Blows" and "Jules and
Jim" or Richard Lester's brilliant
tribute to slapstick or Godard's
wacky "All the Boys Are Called
Patrick" to name just a few.

Anyone who is interested in
cinema should not miss this
Sunday's showing which is
highlighted by the feature length
"Wild Horses of Fire." Jonas Mekas
called it the best film to come out
of Russia in recent years.