Il Conformista (1970)
Directed by Bernardo Bertolucci

Film Review

One of the great social conundrums of the 20th century is how easy it was for Fascism to assert itself in the 1930s through the mature democracies of countries such as Germany and Italy.  Alberto Moravia's 1951 novel Il Conformista (a.k.a. The Conformist) provided a possible explanation, in the innate tendency that human beings have to mimic the behaviour of others (i.e. conform) in order to feel part of the group.   In his inspired adaptation of Moravia's novel, director Bernardo Bertolucci conjures up a striking visual metaphor for this phenomenon.  As he attempts to cross an empty dance hall, the main protagonist, Marcello Clerici, is suddenly surrounded by happily dancing men and women who impede his progress.  Within just a few minutes, Clerici is completely absorbed into a mass of human flesh and has no choice but to surrender his autonomy to the group, much as he does (in a more literal sense) when he dedicates himself to the Fascist cause.

Il Conformista was not Bertolucci's first great film but it was his first major international success and the one that established him as Italy's most prominent film director in the 1970s.  The flamboyant visuals and bold surreal flourishes, more redolent of Fellini than Bertolucci, provide a suitably Wagnerian tone to the film, one that mockingly evokes the delusion and ambition of the Fascist leaders who were so confident they could bring about an empire to rival that of the Ancient Greeks and the Romans.  From his highly stylised depiction of 1930s Germany, it is evident that Bertolucci is far less preoccupied with historical accuracy than in presenting the subjective experience of someone caught up in the events of that period, an ordinary man who yields to the lure of Fascism as easily as he does to the embrace of an attractive woman. 

Clerici becomes a Fascist not through any ideological conviction, but simply because of his compulsive need to belong to the main throng of humanity.  Haunted by a past that is disfigured by social isolation, perversion and guilt, he feels impelled to live a normal life, but he mistakes normality for conformity.  Weak-willed and morally deficient, he is more than willing to give up his own identity if he can become part of the ensemble.  Clerici is far from being a sympathetic character, and yet we find it disturbingly easy to identify with him - partly because he is played so convincingly and so humanely by Jean-Louis Trintignant (one of his best screen performances), but also because we recognise something of ourselves in his primeval desire to belong to the group.

Clerici's moral conflict, or more accurately his moral subsidence, becomes evident to us through the ingeniously assembled sequence of flashbacks which show how the character's past experiences (which range from the sordid to the traumatic) have conspired to make him such a willing servant of Fascism.  So mesmerising is Vittorio Storaro's cinematography that it takes a while for the spectator to realise just how complex the narrative structure is, that it is in fact an elaborate montage spanning several different time frames.  Despite this, the film has a remarkable coherence and makes Moravia's thesis frighteningly plausible.  Not only do we gain some appreciation of how an individual might succumb to Fascism, we are also left wondering whether we might not go the same way if placed in the same predicament.  The need to conform, to affirm that we are part of a group, is perhaps the most powerful human impulse there is, and Bertolucci's film leaves us in little doubt that this may well be what allowed some of the most vile regimes of the 20th century to flourish.  The wisdom of crowds is vastly overrated.

Film Synopsis

In 1930s Italy, Marcello Clerici makes the decision to join the Fascist secret police.  Eager to prove himself, Clerici agrees to assassinate his former teacher Professor Quadri, an anti-Fascist intellectual who is now living in exile in Paris.  Having recently married, Clerici combines the assignment with his honeymoon, but in the process he succumbs to the irresistible charms of his victim's young wife Anna.  Suspecting that his former student may be in the employ of the Fascists, Quadri lays a trap, but Clerici manages to convince the professor of his good faith.  It seems that Clerici's mission will pass off without a hitch...