The history of a national cinema often reflects the history of the country itself. Right now we can argue that Italy’s (general) media is almost monopolised through former Italian PM Silvio Berlusconi’s Finnivest empire, but cinema as a separate entity has passed through powers such as Hollywood within the last century to gain status as an important identifying medium. La Stanza Del Figlio (The Son’s Room) was made after the social comedy emergence of the 1980s – and although not a comedy stands as a prime example of Nanni Moretti’s work. Bringing commentary through satire to the mainstream, Moretti (among other directors) used the realities of life within his filming technique to express social consciousness within Italy.

The eyes of a child provide a unique perspective to a situation, usually surrounding views of innocence and make-believe. Italy once saw youth portrayed as the perfect ally to the Fascist regime, the key to vitality and modernity. That theme continued into the Leaden Years of the 70s as students protested against corruption of the Mafia – the innocent caught up in a guilty world. This is the core idea of Io non ho paura (I’m Not Scared), Gabriele Salvatores’ 2003 film that reflects much of his work – social commentary with the use of escapism. He raises questions of innocence and family secrets which reflect Italy’s reserved traditionalism while dealing with part of their ugly past.

If Italian culture is to help create a new national identity in the wake of the country’s history, then within that the idea of the ‘Other’ must come to the front. Those not considered to be ‘normal’ have faced prejudice from their own and have been outcast from society, as with elsewhere in the world. Italy is beginning to realise that minority groups considered to be the ‘Other’ in fact represent a large part of who they are. La Finestra di Fronte (Facing Windows) uncovers the process of identification in Italy, the links between past and present and the acceptance that follows.

Neo-realism is one of those tricky cinema terms bandied around by critics and the like but many have little appreciation for what it represents, particularly towards Italy, and its contribution to cinema. While only a small movement (if you can call it that), it showed Fascist Italy to the world as melodramatic. To Italians, it provided an escape; creation of characters and stories that still presented real issues but at the same time resisting the constraints of the regime. Roberto Rossellini’s Roma, citta aperta (Open City) is the most famous example of showing how Italians see this era in their history.

The true story of Peppino Impastato remains one of modern Italy’s most important. Now considered a key historical figure from the 1970’s, his legacy was further entrenched in the hearts and minds of Italians with the biographical tale I Cento Passi (The Hundred Steps). The anti-mafia activist was outspoken and wanted to make a difference to his local community – it didn’t matter that he was indirectly a part of the Mafia family.

Italy is a country rich in history and culture and is largely represented to international audiences through the medium of film. To be studying a country through various films as I currently am is a very interesting concept, and what better way is there to share this with you than through my understandings of what these films represent? Over the next few months you will see analytical reviews on some of Italy’s most revered and obscure films and what they mean in representing their homeland. We start with Luchino Visconti’s 1963 epic, Il Gattopardo (The Leopard).