Bellissima

Luchino Visconti, 1951
Visconti has a wide mis-en-scene of complex and even complicated images. These long shots (full bodies), often long takes, have multiple areas active at once. The multiple points of interest mean that it isn't a necessity (in fact, relatively rare) to have a single figure centered; but the scene as a whole is centered, to balance off the various charatcers in the mis-en-scene all at once. The staging is also in depth, with the first plane often close to the camera, adding to the richness. The frame is still much of the time, but when it does move we have smooth, elegant pans. This style in fact becomes less and less explicit aas the film goes, and by the end we are getting quite close (as satire gives way to affect), even to almost close-ups, though the off-balance remains.
The plot quickly establishes the location, psychology, and goals. In fact, this piece is a pretty conventional establishment-development-climax, this is classical filmaking (with a key exception, top be mentioned. There is even a deadline at the end. The narratve develops slowly, bit by little bit, with lots of side scenes shading in character and locale. This film is clearly an offshoot of the neorealist tradition in setting and emotional valence.
What struck us most in this scene is the near constant dialogue kept up, largely by Magnani. She appears to be addressing the audience in a near constant narration on events, tiring and even annoying, quite deliberately, a little endearing too. The speech is fast, all are shouting over each other, and this film is about as hysterical, one could even say stereotypical of Italian matriarchs and domestic life, as one can get.
This turns to one factor, which is the initial worry, perhaps with some truth, that Visconti is mocking his characters and their class (also, why is editing a failure?). This isn't really correct; Viconti is really showing more of an ambivalence, which includes a negative look (which, sadly, strays into contemtpt occassionally) at certain aspects of his (presumably) people and culture. This may be a class analysis; Visconti holds this attitude towards the class. I must confess I was rather worried for a large proportion in the middle of this film. The woman are insane, while the men are either the caring father or the not overly condemned, though deeply cynical, studio underling.
What Visconti does though is turn this; deep sympathy is shown. This doesn't cancel out the earlier criticism, but it has to be seen as part of a wider story. The Sympathy for Magnani is acheived through some quite startling, and abrupt, character changes, which you would not see in the classical tradition. Magnani carries this off, and Visconti just about does, by it turning out that we have effectively had relevent information withheld (in a non-classical manner); 'The usual four slaps' is a startling, electric line. Magnani reveals herself in a new light, emotion streaks through our contempt, as we see the other side of the story (the screening room) we suddenly see Magnani in a new light (a great close-up with hard lighting, being so rare in this film extra powerful).
One can't, still, quite escape the idea that Visconti is still slightly ambivalent, unwilling to really embrace the Magnani character; the men can't really be that bad, the film almost says, the domestic violence is gestured at rather than investigated, and slightly washed over, which isn't very acceptable. We can see Visconti's struggle taking place on the screen, to give a real auterist reading.
The child, the high emotion, the opressed exploited, and the ending, along with the location, again demonstrate neo-realist roots. This is though not a neo-realist film; the attitude is more detached, analytical for all the hysteria (we look at, rather than feel, the atmosphere), and more personal.