User Reviews

More than a hint of Charlie Chaplin in some of his memorable old roles wherein he conveyed a poignant notion of the ludicrous troubles of the little man is given by Renato Rascel in the Italian film, "The Overcoat".

This wistful picture treats a grim and saddening theme, even though it is done in a superior serio-comic style. It's a wonder the moths haven't got it. And that it doesn't deserve.

For this interesting Italian transposition of Gogol's semifarcical tale of the little man who was briefly elevated to a sense of importance by the possession of a new overcoat is, in many respects, an exciting and impressive piece of cinematic art, directed by Alberto Lattuada with uncompromising insight and skill.

How much of the film's insinuation derives from the sharp, sarcastic script of a corps of Italian screen-writers, how much from Rascel's apparent skill and how much from Lattuada's shrewd direction is a matter of minor concern. The fact that it is a brilliant picture, in its own special frame, is enough.

To be sure, the dramatic situation is both simple and of dubious appeal. A little clerk, tired of being pushed and badgered, puts his savings in a new overcoat. In it, he feels triumphant. He can walk down the street like a lord. He is confident with beautiful women, whom he previously yearned for from afar. Then his overcoat is stolen. Inevitably, he goes mad and dies. Briefly, his spirit haunts the people who had been cruel and haughty to him.

That is the situation. But the peculiar attractiveness of the film is in the sharpness with which it satirizes politicians and, indeed, society, and in the incisive humor of Rascel's Chaplinesque pantomime. There are scenes of magnificent humor, such as one in which the piteous little clerk reads back, with eloquence and gestures, some garbled dictation he has taken from his boss. Or the scene in which a grotesque tailor, played by Giulio Cali, fits him for the new overcoat. There also are scenes of scorching pathos and painful mockery. The sum total of them, as in a Chaplin picture, makes a haunting commentary.

Though artfully played and directed and well-furnished with English subtitles, the picture does have some limitations, so far as a wide American audience is concerned. It dwells at great length on the behavior of Italian bureaucrats, which is a little flossy for American fancy, and it is solemnly dreary toward the end. Plainly, it falls somewhere vaguely between "City Lights" and Murnau's "The Last Laugh." It is a picture more than well worth seeing. But be sure you are in the mood.

Il Cappotto is a surprisingly faithful rendering of the Gogol short story. The Overcoat is happily relocated from bureaucratic nineteenth century Russia to corrupt post war Italy. There are many wonderful and original scenes; a succession of lodgers trying to listen to the heartbeat of a dying man through a stethoscope; a hearse interrupting the mayor's self-congratulatory speechifying at a public meeting; a tailor ducking down alleys to get a further look at his beautiful coat being worn by its new owner. The film is also funny, but the comedy is sometimes jarring. There is what can only be called a Chaplin-esque central performance though without Chaplin's mischief, some rather broad satire of Italian political life, and a more bleak, savage humour that is perhaps more faithful to Gogol. Some of this is marvellous, some of it rather dated. As the film progresses it picks up momentum but unfortunately the clunkiness of some of the first half hour hangs over the rest of the film leaving a feeling that it could all have been a little tighter and maybe a little tougher. The end in particular exchanges Gogol's horror for spiritual uplift and is a disappointment.

In the end, Il Cappotto feels like a film that doesn't quite hold together its disparate elements, but has some unforgettable scenes worthy of de Sica or Fellini. Enjoyable but frustrating.

SPOILER below!

This Gogol-drawn seriocomedy about a poor scrivener who can't get no respect—and eventually dies from pneumonia when the warm coat he'd so desperately needed is stolen from him (sorry for the spoiler but it's obvious very early on that the story is headed thataway)--is well-crafted but somewhat dated. Not so much in technique, but in the heavy-handedness with which all the protagonist's harassers (especially his pompous bosses) are caricatured, and the tears-of-a- clown schtick star Renato Rascel is allowed to indulge. He's decent enough, but there are times when you realize the film is just stopping to let him do the comic business local audiences would have then expected from a popular comedian, even in a change-of-pace more serious vehicle. Coming just after "Variety Lights," a success for himself and debuting co-director Fellini, "The Overcoat" shows some of director Alberto Lattuada's trademark strengths in depicting social milieus. He did a better job a decade alter with "Mafioso," which also got a much superior performance from another comedian in a more dramatic role—Alberto Sordi.

This Italian version of a Russian short story by Nikolai Gogol, originally known as Shinel, is meticulously directed by Alberto Lattuada. It presents a clear-eyed view of political corruption, and the plight of one small man (Renato Rascel), who needs two things. As a clerk for the mayor (Giulio Stival), he knows bureaucracy never works according to logic.

The first thing Carmine de Carmine (Rascel) needs is a new overcoat...hence the title. The one he's been wearing year after year is all in tatters. A local tailor doesn't think any more patches can be put on it. Carmine will need to purchase a new one, but such a garment would be too expensive for him to afford on his meager wages. He tries to do the repairs on the coat himself, but it is no use.

Because the weather in northern Italy is quite cold in winter, he cannot be without a heavy coat. In Gogol's story, the action is set in even colder Russia; and our protagonist starves himself and refrains from turning on the heat in his apartment, to save up enough money for the purchase of the new overcoat.

When Carmine goes to buy the new coat, he purchases a most fancy one, with a fur collar. The coat becomes a source of pride, garnering all sorts of attention when he wears it down the street and into the office. In a way, the coat is an extension of the main character, a symbol of acquiring something that to others may denote newly gained social status.

The second thing Carmine needs is to feel valued. The new overcoat brings attention his way, but at 5'2, he's still a guy the others tower over and look down upon. They don't respect him. When he receives an invitation to a New Year's party, his luck may be changing. The party will be attended by the mayor, the mayor's mistress (Yvonne Sanson) and other office staff.

During the party, Carmine has a few drinks and loosens up. He suddenly feels confident. After looking out at the window at souls less fortunate on the street, he is moved to interrupt the mayor and make a speech about the city's homeless population. Of course, the mayor and his cronies are not interested in this. The party is meant to be a celebration; they don't want to be reminded of how they've been failing their jobs to do right by the public.

Carmine is soon ushered out, but before he goes, there is a well-filmed bit where he dances with the mayor's mistress. The height disparity between Rascel and Sanson is obvious and adds to the amusing quality of their dance. After leaving the party, Carmine is heading home when he's mugged. His beloved new coat is snatched away from him.

This leads to the next section of the story where he asks for help from the authorities to get his coat back. Some of this is played quite seriously, but of course, the situation becomes increasingly absurd. One thing Lattuada understands about Gogol's story is that it works in a vein of neorealism, but it also lends itself to a grotesque form of satire and surrealism.

After Carmine's unable to get his coat back, we have scenes where he is forced to wear the old one with holes in it. This causes him to get sick in the freezing weather. Soon he develops pneumonia, and there's a memorable scene where neighbors in his apartment building check on him and use a stethoscope to determine if he's still breathing. Unfortunately, he's dead.

The story doesn't end there. Carmine's spirit comes back to avenge his needless death. He haunts thieves who may have been responsible for stealing his coat; and he haunts the mayor during an evening with the mistress. Eventually he reveals himself to the mayor, who didn't know until then that he had died. The mayor has an examination of conscience and quickly reforms, vowing to do better.

Personally, I found the ending too tidy and the mayor's conversion a bit too fast. At least with Dickens, it takes a while for Scrooge to change. Here the change in the mayor's character is almost too abrupt. The point is probably to let the audience know there is hope after all, and corrupt officials can become decent ones.

The best aspect of IL CAPPOTTO is not the rather seamless blending of neorealism and surrealism. It's the strong presentation of a central character who makes a statement about social injustice and causes important self-reflection. That type of truth may be just as stinging as the bitter cold air.