Showing posts with label Antonella Attili. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Antonella Attili. Show all posts

Thursday, January 26, 2017

CINEMA PARADISO (1988) (Blu-ray Review)

CINEMA PARADISO (1988)

Label: Arrow Video

Region: A/B
Duration: 124 Minutes / 174 Minutes
Rating: R
Audio: Italian LPCM 1.0, 2.0, Italian DTS-HD MA Surround 5.1 with Optional English subtitles 
Video: 1080p HD Widescreen (1.66:1) 
Director: Giuseppe Tornatore
Cast: Philippe Noiret, Enzo Cannavale, Antonella Attili

Synopsis: Giuseppe Tornatore’s loving homage to the cinema tells the story of Salvatore, a successful film director, returning home for the funeral of Alfredo, his old friend who was the projectionist at the local cinema throughout his childhood. Soon memories of his first love affair with the beautiful Elena and all the high and lows that shaped his life come flooding back, as Salvatore reconnects with the community he left 30 years earlier.


Giuseppe Tornatore's 1988 Italian film Nuovo Cinema Paradiso was originally released in an 155 min theatrical cut but was trimmed to a more manageable and better received 124 minute version for it's international release under the title Cinema Paradiso. It was this cut that I caught a 35mm screening of in the early 90's while living in Ithaca, NY at the local arthouse cinema, a place called Cinemapolis. Not yet then in my twenties, and coming off a decade of 80's horror devotion, looking back this is the screening that gave birth to my love of arthouse and foreign cinema. My new found interest in arthouse and foreign films was fed all that year by the aforementioned Cinemapolis and another fine indie theater, Fall Creek Pictures, who had some super comfy chairs. These purveyors of arthouse brought to me the cinema of Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet's apocalyptic cannibal-comedy Delicatessen (1991), Jaco Van Dormael's Toto Le Heros (1991), Gabriele Salvatores' Mediterraneo and Krzysztof Kieslokowski's The Double Life of Veronique(1991) plus an American indie film, that remarkably still has no stateside release 20 years later, Steven Soderbergh's Kafka (1991). 

The film opens in Rome, Italy sometime in the 1980's as film director Salvatore De Vita (Jacques Perrin, Brotherhood of the Wolf) returns home and is informed by hi wife that his mother has telephoned from sicily with news that someone named Alfredo has passed away. Salvatore, who has not returned to the sicilian village of his birth for 30 years, is crushed by the news, immediately he flashes back to his childhood during WWII, recalling the formative years of his life and a friendship with an crusty, though kind-hearted, theatre projectionist named Alfredo (Philippe Noiret, Fellini's Three Brotherswho imparted to him a deep love of cinema.

We are then transported to 1940's Sicily via flashbacks as only the magic of cinema can. We meet Salvatore at the age of six, he's a precocious little scamp who keeps his mother on her toes, he definitely a handful of mischievous energy. Consumed by an interest in film he spends most of his time at the Cinema Paradiso, a small theatre in the heart of the town square. It is here that he befriends the projectionist Alfredo who begrudgingly lets the boy hang out in the projection booth with him. Through a series of montages we are introduced to the townsfolk who gather nightly to watch the moving images and they are a colorful cast of small town characters. Father Adelfio (Salvatore Cascio, The white Sheik) dutifully approves each film before public viewing at weekly screenings in which he censors scenes of intimacy that he deems immoral, he does so by sounding a bell which cues Alfredo to mark the scenes and cut them from the reel, the decades of naughty nitrate litter the projection booth, and figure prominently into the end of the film. During viewings of the film the townsfolk can be heard to register complaints, one man objecting, "I've been going to the movies for twenty years and I never saw a kiss!", it's fun stuff. The entire village is enraptured by the moving images, it's an idealized cinephile vision of small town life and while the film could be critiqued for being overly sentimental and emotionally manipulative I thinks it's rather quite wonderful, with the lyrical Ennio Morricone score hitting all the right notes.

At first Alfredo's disposition towards the Salvatore is one of annoyance but the old man recognizes his love of cinema and takes him under his wing teaching him to operate the projector, edit and splice film and change reels. The two form a father-son relationship, it's a wonderful portrayal. In a tragic turn of events the highly flammable nitrate film catches fire and a blast of flame from the projector cruelly takes Alfredo's sight. The theatre is a complete loss but it is given a new lease on life when a man named Ciccio, who recently won the lottery, resurrects the theatre as Nuovo Cinema Paradiso. In an admittedly unlikely turn of events Ciccio hires the adolescent Salvatore as the theatre's new projectionist, but that's the magic of movies folks. A few years later with the introduction of non-combustible film stock the elder Alfredo ponders "progress, always comes late."



Alfredo and Toto's friendship continues through the years and as Salvatore matures into a young man, now played by Marco Leonardi (Like Water For Chocolate), he finds himself coming to Alfredo for advice when he loses his heart to a young beauty by the name of Elena (Agnese Nano), the daughter of a wealthy banker who frowns upon a peasant boy courting his daughter of privilege. At the height of their romance Salvatore is required to serve his compulsory military service and the two lose touch when Elena's family settles elsewhere. Returning to the Sicily following his service Alfredo urges the young man to leave the village, to return to Rome where he can pursue his cinematic dreams. Salvatore is hesitant to do so but Alfredo make him swear to never return, to not look back and not give in to sentimentality. Alfredo tells Salvatore "Whatever you end up doing, love it. The way you loved the projection booth when you were a little squirt". It's a promise he keeps but upon returning to the village 30 years later Salvatore is overcome with regret at the decision.

During the funeral procession for Alfredo Salvatore sees the aged but familiar faces from his youth, he's overcome with feelings of nostalgia and regret. Alfredo's widow tells Salvatore how proud her late husband was of him, that following his career as a film director was a source of great pride for the elderly man. She gives him a box, inside it a film reel. Upon returning to Rome Salvatore screens the reel to discover that Alfredo has spliced together a compendium of what amounts to the greatest romance scenes of cinema cut, all the stolen kisses censored from films over the years at the behest of Father Adelfio. He watches as tears of bittersweet joy stream from his face, basking in the glory of cinema and overwhelmed by emotion.

As a teen I found this film incredibly moving, it was actually overwhelming. Never had I seen a film that carried with it so much love for the cinema or such passion for filmmaking. Revisiting it again and again years later it still carries that same weight and then some, it gets better with each watch. Now, with a few more years under my belt, a family of my own and my love for cinema having only grown, the film resonates deeper and stronger than ever. Much like director Giuseppe Tornatore's nostalgia for the cinema of his youth I find it difficult not to similarly gush over Cinema Paradiso - it is simply a thing of beauty.


In the longer theatrical version of the film the relationship between the younger Salvatore and Elena is fleshed out a bit more. When he returns to Sicily thirty years later he encounters a young girl who bares an uncanny resemblance to his lost love. Through her he is reunited with Elena and attempts to rekindle their romance. The reunion scenes add some extra depth and poignancy to the proceedings plus there's a revelation involving Alfredo's involvement in their break-up which adds yet another level of bitter sweetness to the film's finale. In years past I have always been more affectionate for the theatrical version, but this time around I had a strong warming-up to the longer director's cut, both are wonderful, and with this new 2-disc set you can have both. 

Audio/Video: I am very pleased to see Arrow's 25th Anniversary Edition of Cinema Paradiso (1988) get a Region A release, finally! Here we have both the 124-minute theatrical version and the loner 174 minute version of the film, presented on two separate Blu-ray discs, both restored from original negative materials, both framed in the original 1.66:1 aspect ratio. The results of the 2K restoration are wonderful,coming straight from the original 25mm negative this version looks significantly richer than the Lionsgate Blu-ray from a few years back, warmer with more depth, and also benefitting from a new color correction. 

Audio on the theatrical version include both Italian LPCM 1.0 Mono and Italian DTS-HD MA surround 5.1 with Optional English subtitles. The Director's cut features Italian LPCM Mono 1.0 with Italian DTS-HD MA surround 5.1 with Optional English subtitles. Ennio Morricone's transportative score still comes through quite brilliantly, even on the mono option. The Italian DTS-HD 51. track subtly utilizes the surrounds from time to time, immersing viewers in Morricone's gorgeous score. Optional English subtitles are included for both the theatrical and director's versions. 



Onto the extras, this 2-disc set is loaded, beginning with disc one we have the 124-mion theatrical cut, plus the commentary from director Giuseppe Tornatore and Italian cinema expert critic Millicent Marcus, which is a nice listen. The commentary is in English. Marcus is very professorial in her approach, though her love for it is never in question. Tornatore's commentary is spliced into the commentary, as they were not in the same room. 

There's a nearly hour long documentary A Dream of Sicily wherein the director speaks about his life and career, including clips of his early films, plus interviews with director Francesco Rosi and painter Peppino Ducato. The 27-min doc A Bear and a Mouse in Paradise is a making of retrospective, featuring interviews with the director plus actors Philippe Noiret and Salvatore Cascio who played  Philippe Noiret and Salvatore Cascio. There's also a 7-min interview with Tornatore as he discusses the "stolen kisses" film clips in the movie, the inspiration for it, approaching Fellini to play the projectionist in the scene, and the clip also identifies each of the clips. Disc one is finished up with a trailer for the 25th anniversary re-release of the film. The interviews are in Italian with English subtitles.  


Onto disc two we have the 175-min director's cut of the film, newly restored from the original 35mm negative with option of Italian LPCM 1.0 Mono and Italian DTS-HD MA surround 5.1 with Optional English subtitles. The only extra on the disc is the Original Director’s Cut Theatrical Trailer. 


Special Features:
- Newly restored from the original camera negative and presented in two versions – the 124 minute - Cannes Festival theatrical version and the 174 minute Director’s Cut
- Uncompressed original stereo 2.0 Audio and 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio options
- Optional English subtitles
- Audio commentary with director Giuseppe Tornatore and Italian cinema expert critic Millicent Marcus
- A Dream of Sicily – A documentary profile of Giuseppe Tornatore featuring interviews with director and extracts from his early home movies as well as interviews with director Francesco Rosi and painter Peppino Ducato, set to music by the legendary Ennio Morricone (55 min) HD 
- A Bear and a Mouse in Paradise – A documentary on the genesis of Cinema Paradiso, the characters of Toto and Alfredo, featuring interviews with the actors who play them, Philippe Noiret and Salvatore Cascio as well as Tornatore (27 min) 
- The Kissing Sequence – Giuseppe Tornatore discusses the origins of the kissing scenes with full clips identifying each scene (7 min) 
- Original Director’s Cut Theatrical Trailer (1 min) HD 
- 25th Anniversary Re-Release Trailer (2 min) HD 

Cinema Paradiso (1988)is a timeless love letter to a bygone era of cinema and to the glory of independent movie houses that's swollen to perfection with just the right amount of nostalgia and sentimentality. A powerful film about the love of ciea that nurtured my own passion for cinema at a particularly influential period in my life. I give this the highest recommendation possible, and the new Arrow Video 2-disc set is hands down the definitive version of the movie with both the versions, a gorgeous 2K restoration, and a wealth of extras. 5/5



Friday, September 30, 2011

Blu-ray Review: CINEMA PARADISO (1989)

CINEMA PARADISO (1989)
LABEL: Lionsgate
RELEASE DATE: October 4th 2011
REGION CODE: A
RATING: PG
DURATON: 124 mins
VIDEO: MPEG-4 AVC 1080p 16:9 Widescreen (1.66:1)
AUDIO: Italian Mono DTS-HD MA with Englisg and Spanish Subtitles
DIRECTOR: Giuseppe Tornatore
CAST: Philippe Noiret, Salvatore Cascio, Marco Leonardi, Jacques Perrin, Antonella Attili, Pupella Maggio, Agnese Nano, Leopoldo Trieste
TAGLINE: A celebration of youth, friendship, and the everlasting magic of the movies.

Giuseppe Tornatore's 1988 Italian film NUOVO CINEMA PARADISO was originally released in an 174 min theatrical cut but was trimmed to a more manageable and better received 124 min for it's international release under the title CINEMA PARADISO. It was this cut that I caught a 35mm screening of in the early 90's while living in Ithaca, NY. The screening was at the small Cinemapolis theatre on the Ithaca Commons. Not yet in my twenties, and coming off a decade of 80's horror devotion, this screening gave birth to my love of arthouse and foreign cinema which at this point weren't part of my cinematic vocabulary. My new found interest was fed all that year by the aforementioned Cinemapolis and Fall Creek Pictures who were not only my entry point to Tornatore's CINEMA PARADISO, but Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet's DELICATESSAN, Jaco Van Dormael's TOTO LE HEROS (1991), Gabriele Salvatores' MEDITERRANEO and Krzysztof Kieslokowski's THE DOUBLE LIFE OF VERONIQUE (1991) plus an American indie film that remarkably still has no DVD release 20 years later, KAFKA (1991), Steven Soderbergh's follow-up to SEX LIES AND VIDEOTAPE (1989).


CINEMA PARADISO opens in Italy sometime in the 1980's. Film director Salvatore De Vita (Jacques Perrin, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF) returns home and is informed that his mother has telephoned with news that someone named Alfredo has passed away. Salvatore, who has not returned to the village of his birth for 30 years, flashes back to his childhood during WWII and recalls the formative years of his life and a friendship with an crusty, though kind-hearted, theatre projectionist named Alfredo who imparted to him a love of cinema.

We are then transported to 1940's Sicily via flashbacks as only the magic of cinema can. We meet Salvatore at the age of six, he's a precocious little scamp who keeps his mother on her toes, he definitely a handful of mischievous energy. Consumed by an interest in film he spends most of his time at the Cinema Paradiso, a theatre at the heart of the town square. It is here that he befriends the projectionist Alfredo (Philippe Noiret, Fellini's THREE BROTHERS) who begrudgingly lets the boy hang out in the projection booth with him. Through a series of montages we are introduced to the townsfolk who gather nightly to watch the moving images and they are a colorful cast of small town characters. Father Adelfio (Salvatore Cascio, THE WHITE SHEIK) dutifully approves each film before public viewing at weekly screenings in which he censors scenes of intimacy that he deems immoral, he does so by sounding a bell which cues Alfredo to mark the scenes and cut them from the reel, the decades of naughty nitrate litter the projection booth. During viewings of the film the townsfolk can be heard to register complaints, one man objecting, "I've been going to the movies for twenty years and I never saw a kiss!". The entire village is enraptured by the moving images, it's an idealized cinephile vision of small town life and while the film is sometimes critiqued for being overly sentimental and emotionally manipulative I thinks it's rather quite wonderful.

At first Alfredo's disposition towards the Salvatore is one of annoyance but he recognizes his love of cinema and takes him under his wing teaching him to operate the projector, edit and splice film and change reels. The two form a father-son relationship, it's a wonderful portrayal. In a tragic turn of events the highly flammable nitrate film catches fire and a blast of flame from the projector cruelly takes Alfredo's sight. The theatre is a complete loss but it is given a new lease on life when a man named Ciccio, who recently won the lottery, resurrects the theatre as Nouvo Cinema Paradiso. In an admittedly unlikely turn of events Ciccio hires the adolescent Salvatore as the theatre's new projectionist. With the introduction of non-combustible film stock a few years later Alfredo ponders "progress, always comes late."

Alfredo and Toto's friendship continues through the years and as Salvatore matures into a young man, now played by Marco Leonardi (LIKE WATER FOR CHOCOLATE), he finds himself coming to Alfredo for advice when he loses his heart to a young beauty by the name of Elena (Agnese Nano), the daughter of a wealthy banker who frowns upon a peasant boy courting his daughter of privilege. At the height of their romance Salvatore is required to serve his compulsory military service and the two lose touch when Elena's family settles elsewhere. Returning to the Sicily following his service Alfredo urges the young man to leave the village, to return to Rome where he can pursue his dreams. Salvatore is hesitant to do so but Alfredo make him swear to never return, to not look back and not give in to sentimentality. Alfredo tells Salvatore "Whatever you end up doing, love it. The way you loved the projection booth when you were a little squirt". It's a promise he keeps but upon returning to the village 30 years later Salvatore is overcome with regret at the decision.


During the funeral procession Salvatore sees so many familiar faces from his youth, he's overcome with feelings of nostalgia and regret. Later Alfredo's widow tells Salvatore how proud her late husband was of him, that following his career as a film director was a source of great pride for the elderly man. She gives him a box, inside it a film reel. Upon returning to Rome Salvatore screens the reel to discover that Alfredo has spliced together a compendium of what amounts to the greatest romance scenes of cinema cut from films over the years at the behest of Father Adelfio. He watches as tears of bittersweet joy stream from his face, basking in the glory of cinema and overwhelmed by emotion.

As a teen I found this film so incredibly moving, it was overwhelming. Never had I seen a film that carried with it so much love for the cinema or such passion for filmmaking. Revisiting it again 20 years later it still carries that same weight and then some. With a few years under my belt, a family of my own and my love for film grown, the film resonates deeper and stronger than ever. Much like director Giuseppe Tornatore's nostalgia for the cinema of his youth I find it difficult not to similarly gush over CINEMA PARADISO - it is simply a thing beauty.

In the longer theatrical version of the film the relationship between the younger Salvatore and Elena is fleshed out a bit more. When he returns to Sicily 30 years later he encounters a young girl whom bares an uncanny resemblance to his lost love. Through her he is reunited with Elena and attempts to rekindle their romance. The reunion scenes add some extra depth and poignancy to the proceedings plus there's a revelation involving Alfredo's involvement in their break-up which adds yet another level of bitter sweetness to the film's finale. Without disavowing the international cut I would definitely recommend a viewing of the theatrical cut.

BLU-RAY:The Lionsgate Blu-ray represents the 124 minute International Version of the film presented in 16:9 widescreen (1.66:1) and the film looks gorgeous. Easily surpassing previous DVD editions with a warm transfer from a fine print with a layer of natural film grain. The print offers some white speckling throughout but otherwise it's in very fine form. Colors are vibrant, skin tones are natural and the black levels run deep with an abundance of fine detail resolving textures and facial features like never before. Having just viewed Umbrella Entertainment's region FREE Blu-ray I would say they're quite similar in terms of PQ with perhaps a bit more depth coming from the Lionsgate edition.

The only audio option is Italian Mono DTS-HD MA with optional English and Spanish subtitles. Dialogue and effects are crisp and clear but obviously not overly dynamic considering the limitations of the mono track. Ennio Morricone's transportative score still comes through quite brilliantly. The Umbrella release featured an Italian DTS-HD 51. track which subtly utilized the surrounds immersing viewers in Morricone's gorgeous score which is missed here but the 2.0 lossless audio sounds great for what it is. 


As for bonus content there's not much, only the Theatrical Trailer (1:38), a selection of Lionsgate trailers and the option to bookmark chapters which could come in handy, it's a lengthy film even in it's truncated International cut. The Arrow Video Region B locked Blu-ray features over an hour of bonus content and I would love to see a future  Blu-ray that incorporates new features in the way of commentary, interviews and featurettes. C'mon now folks this film won an Academy Award so let's give it some due respect. At the very least I would expect a branching version of the 173 minute Director's Cut which from what I know is only available here in the US on the now OOP Buena Vista Miramax Classic DVD. Would also love a comprehensive audio presentation sporting DTS-HD mono, stereo and surround mixes.

SPECIAL FEATURES:
- Trailers: BIUTIFUL, GOOD WILL HUNTING, PRECIOUS, WINTER'S BONE
- Theatrical Trailer (1:38) 4:3
- Bookmark Option

VERDICT: CINEMA PARADISO is a gorgeous love letter to a bygone era of cinema and to the glory of independent movie house that's swollen to perfection with nostalgia and sentimentality. A powerful film that nurtured my own passion for cinema at a particularly influential period in my life. I give this the highest recommendation possible and would easily place it alongside CHINATOWN, BLUE VELVET, THE THIRD MAN and TOUCH OF EVIL as one of my most treasured films. A MUST BUY from start to finish.

*Apologies and thanks to the folks at DVDBeaver.com/ for stealing screen caps.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Blu-ray Review: CINEMA PARADISO (1989)

CINEMA PARADISO (1989) Blu-ray


REGION CODE: ABC, Region FREE
RATING: PG
DURATON: 124 mins
VIDEO: Anamoprhic Widescreen (1.77:1) 1080p
AUDIO: Italian DTS-HD MA Master Audio 5.1
DIRECTOR: Giuseppe Tornatore
CAST: Philippe Noiret, Salvatore Cascio, Marco Leonardi, Jacques Perrin, Antonella Attili, Pupella Maggio, Agnese Nano, Leopoldo Trieste
TAGLINE: A celebration of youth, friendship, and the everlasting magic of the movies.




Giuseppe Tornatore's 1988 Italian film NUOVO CINEMA PARADISO was originally released in an 155 mins theatrical cut but was trimmed to a more manageable and better received 124 mins for it's international release under the title CINEMA PARADISO. It was this cut that I caught a 35mm screening of in the early 90's while living in Ithaca, NY. The screening was at the small Cinemapolis theatre on the Ithaca Commons. Not yet in my twenties, and coming off a decade of 80's horror devotion, this screening gave birth to my love of arthouse and foreign cinema which at this point weren't part of my cinematic vocabulary. My new found interest was fed all that year by the aforementioned Cinemaoplis and Fall Creek Pictures who were not only my entry point to Tornatore's CINEMA PARADISO, but Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet's DELICATESSAN, Jaco Van Dormael's TOTO LE HEROS (1991), Gabriele Salvatores' MEDITERRANEO and Krzysztof Kieslokowski's THE DOUBLE LIFE OF VERONIQUE (1991) plus an American indie film that remarkably still has no DVD release 20 years later, KAFKA (1991), Steven Soderbergh's follow-up to SEX LIES AND VIDEOTAPE (1989). Apparently '91 was a banner year for indie and arthouse cinema in addition to alternative music. At the time I was heavily into Nirvana, the Seattle scene and all things Sub Pop having not been weaned from the teet of metal but definitely having my horizons expanded.
CINEMA PARADISO opens in Italy sometime in the 1980's. Film director Salvatore De Vita (Jacques Perrin, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF) returns home and is informed that his mother telephoned with news that someone named Alfredo has passed away. Salvatore, who has not returned to the village of his birth for 30 years, flashes back to his childhood during WWII and recalls the formative years of his life and a friendship with an crusty, though kind-hearted, theatre projectionist named Alfredo who imparted to him a love of cinema.

We are then transported to 1940's Sicily via flashbacks as only the magic of cinema can. We meet Salvatore at the age of six, he's a precocious little scamp who keeps his mother on her toes, he definitely a handful of mischievous energy. Consumed by an interest in film he spends most of his time at the Cinema Paradiso, a theatre at the heart of the town square. It is here that he befriends the projectionist Alfredo (Philippe Noiret, Fellini's THREE BROTHERS) who begrudgingly lets the boy hang out in the projection booth with him. Through a series of montages we are introduced to the townsfolk who gather nightly to watch the moving images and they are a colorful cast of small town characters. Father Adelfio (Salvatore Cascio, THE WHITE SHEIK) dutifully approves each film before public viewing at weekly screenings in which he censors scenes of intimacy that he deems immoral, he does so by sounding a bell which cues Alfredo to mark the scenes and cut them from the reel, the decades of naughty nitrate litter the projection booth. During viewings of the film the townsfolk can be heard to register complaints, one man objecting, "I've been going to the movies for twenty years and I never saw a kiss!". The entire village is enraptured by the moving images, it's an idealized cinephile vision of small town life and while the film is sometimes critiqued for being overly sentimental and emotionally manipulative I thinks it's rather quite wonderful.

At first Alfredo's disposition towards the Salvatore is one of annoyance but he recognizes his love of cinema and takes him under his wing teaching him to operate the projector, edit and splice film and change reels. The two form a father-son relationship, it's a wonderful portrayal. In a tragic turn of events the highly flammable nitrate film catches fire and a blast of flame from the projector cruelly takes Alfredo's sight. The theatre is a complete loss but it is given a new lease on life when a man named Ciccio, who recently won the lottery, resurrects the theatre as Nouvo Cinema Paradiso. In an admittedly unlikely turn of events Ciccio hires the adolescent Salvatore as the theatre's new projectionist. With the introduction of non-combustible film stock a few years later Alfredo ponders "progress, always comes late."

Alfredo and Toto's friendship continues through the years and as Salvatore matures into a young man, now played by Marco Leonardi (LIKE WATER FOR CHOCOLATE), he finds himself coming to Alfredo for advice when he loses his heart to a young beauty by the name of Elena (Agnese Nano), the daughter of a wealthy banker who frowns upon a peasant boy courting his daughter of privilege. At the height of their romance Salvatore is required to serve his compulsory military service and the two lose touch when Elena's family settles elsewhere. Returning to the Sicily following his service Alfredo urges the young man to leave the village, to return to Rome where he can pursue his dreams. Salvatore is hesitant to do so but Alfredo make him swear to never return, to not look back and not give in to sentimentality. Alfredo tells Salvatore "Whatever you end up doing, love it. The way you loved the projection booth when you were a little squirt". It's a promise he keeps but upon returning to the village 30 years laterSalvatore is overcome with regret at the decision.

During the funeral procession Salvatore sees so many familiar faces from his youth, he's overcome with feelings of nostalgia and regret. Later Alfredo's widow tells Salvatore how proud her late husband was of him, that following his career as a film director was a source of great pride for the elderly man. She gives him a box, inside it a film reel. Upon returning to Rome Salvatore screens the reel to discover that Alfredo has spliced together a compendium of what amounts to the greatest romance scenes of cinema cut from films over the years at the behest of Father Adelfio. He watches as tears of bittersweet joy stream from his face, basking in the glory of cinema and overwhelmed by emotion.

As a teen I found this film so incredibly moving, it was overwhelming. Neer had I seen a film that carried with it so much love for the  cinema or such passion for filmmaking. Revisiting it again 20 years later it still carries that same weight and then some. With a few years under my belt, a family of my own and my love for film grown, the film resonates deeper and stronger than ever. Much like director Giuseppe Tornatore's nostalgia for the cinema of his youth I find it difficult not to similarly gush over CINEMA PARADISO - it is simply a thing beauty.

In the longer theatrical version of the film the relationship between the younger Salvatore and Elena is fleshed out a bit more. When he returns to Sicily 30 years later he encounters a young girl whom bares an uncanny resemblance to his lost love. Through her he is reunited with Elena and attempts to rekindle their romance. The reunion scenes add some extra depth and poignancy to the proceedings plus there's a revelation involving Alfredo's involvement in their break-up which adds yet another level of bittersweetness to the film's finale. Without disavowing the international cut I would definitely recommend a viewing of the theatrical cut.

BLU-RAY: Umbrella Entertainment's Blu-ray of CINEMA PARADISO is a joy to behold even if not exactly reference material. The blacks levels could be better and it's not the sharpest image on Blu but it's significantly better than the previous DVD editions and worth an upgrade sight unseen. The only audio option is the Italian language 5.1 audio with optional English subtitles. Dialogue and effects are crisp and clearly audible and while it's center channel heavy Ennio Morricone's transportative score sounds quite brilliant and never better. Note that this Blu-ray is Region FREE and playable worldwide.

SPECIAL FEATURES: None, but the film is it's own delight even without the benefit of supplemental material, not that it wouldn't have been appreciated.

VERDICT: CINEMA PARADISO is a gorgeous love letter to a bygone era of cinema and to the glory of independent movie house that's swollen to perfection with nostalgia and sentimentality. A powerful film that nurtured my own passion for cinema at a particularly influential period in my life. I give this the highest recommendation possible and would easily place it alongside CHINATOWN, BLUE VELVET, THE THIRD MAN and TOUCH OF EVIL as my most treasured films. Seeing it projected in 35mm was one of my greatest cinema going moments and Umbrella Entertainment's Blu-ray is the closet I've come to reliving that experience since.