Tarantella
with Mira Sorvino, Rose Gregorio, and Matthew Lillard.
Dir. Helen De Michiel. Written by Richard Hoblock and Helen De Michiel.
The title of this film will immediately cause some
viewers to bristle at the hinted nostalgia, at the distant
custom that apparently has no connection to Italian
Americans in the 1990s. Nevertheless, with the title you
begin to feel the strains of the music, the dance, the trance,
the rhythms. But what is it all about? Mira Sorvino
before Mighty Aphrodite. Italian American film before,
after, and during identity crisis.
Tarantella is a film about an Italian American woman
photographer, Diana Di Sorella (Sorvino). Her mother’s
death sends her back to her childhood home, where she has
to deal with the memory of her mother, and embark on
an exploration of the effects of her death. Having grown
distant from her family and culture, Diana returns to her
mother’s house to take care of the funeral arrangements, and to sell the house
and belongings. Her return to the old neighborhood is for Diana a confrontation with
all the things she had left behind, discounted, and tried to forget. She arrives still
despising her background, which she will slowly begin to reassess through the help of
Pina (played by Rose Gregorio), her mother’s neighbor and confidant. Pina
introduces Diana to her mother’s hidden history via a “libro della casa” that holds
scraps and pieces of her history from before her migration from Sicily to the U.S. Pina
offers to become Diana’s comare and guide in her voyage through her mother’s story
and possibly to herself. Through this process of associations, Pina and Diana’s
mother, Pina and Diana, and eventually Diana and her mother, the last name Di
Sorella takes on the added meaning of sisterhood. It will be this sisterhood to provide
Diana with the tools for a fuller understanding of herself and her background.
As the film opens we meet Diana the photographer intent at work
photographing the intricate patterns created by contemporary architecture.
Reflections, stark architectural and color contrasts, geometric oppositions, and the
like, are the subjects of Diana’s photographs. No people. In fact, when three little
girls ask her to take their picture she tells them to leave her alone, “can’t you see I’m
trying to work.” This opening sequence is all important in establishing Diana’s
difficulty in dealing with people and situations that appear to be less than organized,
symmetrical, and controlled. Her apartment reflects this condition. Everything neat.
Nothing out of place. Everything geometrically placed to complement everything else.
Everything organized to contrast a life and culture she deems chaotic. But what Diane
has in fact created for herself is a dead living space where order and the lack of
intimacy reign supreme. Diana’s boyfriend, Matt, is similarly positioned as a
supporting character in this facade. When Diana arrives home after her shoot, Matt
greets her unemotionally. When she asks what’s up, he plainly states “your mother’s
dead,” no emotion, no comforting comment or physical contact. He is, in effect, a part
of the predictable furniture.
While Diana is obviously shocked at the news, her reaction to it quickly shifts to
a consideration of the situation and the danger it represents in that it may pull her
back into an orbit of influence that she does not long to re-enter. In pulling a black
dress from her closet, she asks Matt “is it Italian enough?” Of course, posed to her
boyfriend, the question is rhetorical, expressive of the stereotypical image that a
black-dress conveys, one that is associated with Italians in the popular imagination.
What is more important is that the question demonstrates Diana’s distance from her
culture and her own misunderstanding of the meaning and value of mourning: “Do I
shroud myself in mourning for the rest of my life?” With this statement Diana defines
her mother’s death as an imposition and influence that, in her eyes, defies even the
finality of death.
Whether an imposition or a catalyst, her mother’s death causes Diana to have to
face her past, her neighborhood, her heritage, and herself. The first glimpse we get of
Diana’s old neighborhood is in fact during her mother’s funereal procession. The
faces and places she had escaped are now staring back at her as the procession
weaves its way through the neighborhood. Diana’s sense of distance and non
-belonging is palpable. When she visits a neighborhood caffè-bar, Diana’s
conversation with the bar-tender, whom she appears to know, is about the
neighborhood. While the man is rather glad to say that the neighborhood hasn’t
changed much, and that “consistency is a good thing,” the camera tracks around the
shop shows only men playing cards and having fun. As this first image of Italian
maschilist culture sinks in. Diana’s sense of it is also stated in her answer to the bar-
tender: “As long as you fit in.” In the tally that the viewer must begin to take in this film
, we find ourselves accumulating a series of images and signifying elements th
at stress and emphasize common-places about Italians: maschilism, oppressive family
situations, etc. We are asked to look beyond these through a process of discovery
that begins with Diana’s exploration of her mother’s diary, a tale that narrates her own
mother’s defiance of male rule and tradition.
As viewers, we have already been initiated by the film’s title into a particular
cultural dimension. And, as we might have questioned the value of citing the
tarantella, we must now extend our inquiry to include Diana’s search. The question
we must ask is not whether or not these remote customs are useful to us today, but
how they might be useful. The death of Diana’s mother acts as an initiation into her
culture through an important ritual that she undertakes even against her
misunderstanding of it: mourning. For those interested in following up the various
manifestations of this custom in southern Italy and elsewhere, the work of Ernesto De
Martino and Luigi Lombardi Satriani will be of interest.
The black dress and mourning and the men-only public place are only a few of
the stereotypes in which Diana herself participates. When she returns to her mother’s
empty house she makes espresso and plays opera records. What these innocent and
almost automatic actions reveal for us is that the line between stereotype and
ritualistic or customary behavior is a thin one, as is the one between a culture one
wishes to shed and the culture that has been made impalpable. Within the context of
Tarantella the elements of mourning that are played out are of course removed from a
more formal ritual. Even so, Pina’s help, and the recuperation of history through her
mother’s diary, are important elements of mourning and confirmation of self-worth.
The process of mourning is instigated by the recognition and the emphasis of a
loss of presence. The concept and practice of mourning is equally applicable to
emigration (remember le vedove bianche, and the celebration of emigration as a
death), and to the loss of one’ s culture, as it is to the death of an individual. The
death of a loved-one, a parent, and possibly the only link to one’s past is
representative of the onset of a crisis which undermines not only day to day life, but
also the order of relations. The tie between people and things (property) is an
important part of mourning in cultures where the transmittance of goods from the
household in not a given. In peasant culture, the loss of the head of the family was
also taken to represent the loss of land, therefore the “presenza smarrita” (lost
presence) refers both to the dead individual and to the landless children (“figli
sterrati”). Lombardi Satriani observes that “without roots and without future prospects
the lost presence will find, in the processes of refoundation and reintegration, the
possibility of a new domesticity, of a new land. It will be a case of reinventing the
world” (207).
Tarantella is as much about mourning the loss of the daughter as it is of the
mother. Through the course of the film, with the aid of Pina, Diana acquires the power
to look beyond the surface of things. The tarantella is usually associated with happy
-go-lucky and gregarious southern Italians. As Diana and Pina walk along the streets
of the neighborhood they see a woman dance the tarantella accompanied by a guitar,
mandolin, and accordion trio. “Talk about ethnic! I remember that from weddings way
back. A bunch of old ladies jumping around in black. Isn’t it about dancing out
poison, from spider bites or something?” observes Diana, making the only
associations she knows of for the dance. Pina clarifies with “it’s an old tradition,
especially for us. The music and dancing were supposed to cure the poison.
Physical release of the pain inside. The tarantella is very powerful.” As the dancer
approaches them, Pina, protective of the dance’s powers, says to her “Go away!
That’s not the way it’s supposed to be! Tarantella is not like that."
The reclamation of the function and power of the tarantella illustrates precisely
the process of reinvention in which Diana must partake. Her condition is not
uncommon and it is not only an Italian phenomenon. Rather, it is a symptom of
displacement and a feeling of cultural incongruence that, as this film suggests, can be
at least in-part be overcome by tapping into the past. When she volunteers to become
Diana’s comare, she tells the younger woman, who doesn’t see the need for Pina’s
help, that it’s good to be independent, but “be like that by knowing who you are not by
being afraid.” The result will be a world of Diana’s own making well beyond the
artificial one previously known by her, because it will be informed by history.
viewers to bristle at the hinted nostalgia, at the distant
custom that apparently has no connection to Italian
Americans in the 1990s. Nevertheless, with the title you
begin to feel the strains of the music, the dance, the trance,
the rhythms. But what is it all about? Mira Sorvino
before Mighty Aphrodite. Italian American film before,
after, and during identity crisis.
Tarantella is a film about an Italian American woman
photographer, Diana Di Sorella (Sorvino). Her mother’s
death sends her back to her childhood home, where she has
to deal with the memory of her mother, and embark on
an exploration of the effects of her death. Having grown
distant from her family and culture, Diana returns to her
mother’s house to take care of the funeral arrangements, and to sell the house
and belongings. Her return to the old neighborhood is for Diana a confrontation with
all the things she had left behind, discounted, and tried to forget. She arrives still
despising her background, which she will slowly begin to reassess through the help of
Pina (played by Rose Gregorio), her mother’s neighbor and confidant. Pina
introduces Diana to her mother’s hidden history via a “libro della casa” that holds
scraps and pieces of her history from before her migration from Sicily to the U.S. Pina
offers to become Diana’s comare and guide in her voyage through her mother’s story
and possibly to herself. Through this process of associations, Pina and Diana’s
mother, Pina and Diana, and eventually Diana and her mother, the last name Di
Sorella takes on the added meaning of sisterhood. It will be this sisterhood to provide
Diana with the tools for a fuller understanding of herself and her background.
As the film opens we meet Diana the photographer intent at work
photographing the intricate patterns created by contemporary architecture.
Reflections, stark architectural and color contrasts, geometric oppositions, and the
like, are the subjects of Diana’s photographs. No people. In fact, when three little
girls ask her to take their picture she tells them to leave her alone, “can’t you see I’m
trying to work.” This opening sequence is all important in establishing Diana’s
difficulty in dealing with people and situations that appear to be less than organized,
symmetrical, and controlled. Her apartment reflects this condition. Everything neat.
Nothing out of place. Everything geometrically placed to complement everything else.
Everything organized to contrast a life and culture she deems chaotic. But what Diane
has in fact created for herself is a dead living space where order and the lack of
intimacy reign supreme. Diana’s boyfriend, Matt, is similarly positioned as a
supporting character in this facade. When Diana arrives home after her shoot, Matt
greets her unemotionally. When she asks what’s up, he plainly states “your mother’s
dead,” no emotion, no comforting comment or physical contact. He is, in effect, a part
of the predictable furniture.
While Diana is obviously shocked at the news, her reaction to it quickly shifts to
a consideration of the situation and the danger it represents in that it may pull her
back into an orbit of influence that she does not long to re-enter. In pulling a black
dress from her closet, she asks Matt “is it Italian enough?” Of course, posed to her
boyfriend, the question is rhetorical, expressive of the stereotypical image that a
black-dress conveys, one that is associated with Italians in the popular imagination.
What is more important is that the question demonstrates Diana’s distance from her
culture and her own misunderstanding of the meaning and value of mourning: “Do I
shroud myself in mourning for the rest of my life?” With this statement Diana defines
her mother’s death as an imposition and influence that, in her eyes, defies even the
finality of death.
Whether an imposition or a catalyst, her mother’s death causes Diana to have to
face her past, her neighborhood, her heritage, and herself. The first glimpse we get of
Diana’s old neighborhood is in fact during her mother’s funereal procession. The
faces and places she had escaped are now staring back at her as the procession
weaves its way through the neighborhood. Diana’s sense of distance and non
-belonging is palpable. When she visits a neighborhood caffè-bar, Diana’s
conversation with the bar-tender, whom she appears to know, is about the
neighborhood. While the man is rather glad to say that the neighborhood hasn’t
changed much, and that “consistency is a good thing,” the camera tracks around the
shop shows only men playing cards and having fun. As this first image of Italian
maschilist culture sinks in. Diana’s sense of it is also stated in her answer to the bar-
tender: “As long as you fit in.” In the tally that the viewer must begin to take in this film
, we find ourselves accumulating a series of images and signifying elements th
at stress and emphasize common-places about Italians: maschilism, oppressive family
situations, etc. We are asked to look beyond these through a process of discovery
that begins with Diana’s exploration of her mother’s diary, a tale that narrates her own
mother’s defiance of male rule and tradition.
As viewers, we have already been initiated by the film’s title into a particular
cultural dimension. And, as we might have questioned the value of citing the
tarantella, we must now extend our inquiry to include Diana’s search. The question
we must ask is not whether or not these remote customs are useful to us today, but
how they might be useful. The death of Diana’s mother acts as an initiation into her
culture through an important ritual that she undertakes even against her
misunderstanding of it: mourning. For those interested in following up the various
manifestations of this custom in southern Italy and elsewhere, the work of Ernesto De
Martino and Luigi Lombardi Satriani will be of interest.
The black dress and mourning and the men-only public place are only a few of
the stereotypes in which Diana herself participates. When she returns to her mother’s
empty house she makes espresso and plays opera records. What these innocent and
almost automatic actions reveal for us is that the line between stereotype and
ritualistic or customary behavior is a thin one, as is the one between a culture one
wishes to shed and the culture that has been made impalpable. Within the context of
Tarantella the elements of mourning that are played out are of course removed from a
more formal ritual. Even so, Pina’s help, and the recuperation of history through her
mother’s diary, are important elements of mourning and confirmation of self-worth.
The process of mourning is instigated by the recognition and the emphasis of a
loss of presence. The concept and practice of mourning is equally applicable to
emigration (remember le vedove bianche, and the celebration of emigration as a
death), and to the loss of one’ s culture, as it is to the death of an individual. The
death of a loved-one, a parent, and possibly the only link to one’s past is
representative of the onset of a crisis which undermines not only day to day life, but
also the order of relations. The tie between people and things (property) is an
important part of mourning in cultures where the transmittance of goods from the
household in not a given. In peasant culture, the loss of the head of the family was
also taken to represent the loss of land, therefore the “presenza smarrita” (lost
presence) refers both to the dead individual and to the landless children (“figli
sterrati”). Lombardi Satriani observes that “without roots and without future prospects
the lost presence will find, in the processes of refoundation and reintegration, the
possibility of a new domesticity, of a new land. It will be a case of reinventing the
world” (207).
Tarantella is as much about mourning the loss of the daughter as it is of the
mother. Through the course of the film, with the aid of Pina, Diana acquires the power
to look beyond the surface of things. The tarantella is usually associated with happy
-go-lucky and gregarious southern Italians. As Diana and Pina walk along the streets
of the neighborhood they see a woman dance the tarantella accompanied by a guitar,
mandolin, and accordion trio. “Talk about ethnic! I remember that from weddings way
back. A bunch of old ladies jumping around in black. Isn’t it about dancing out
poison, from spider bites or something?” observes Diana, making the only
associations she knows of for the dance. Pina clarifies with “it’s an old tradition,
especially for us. The music and dancing were supposed to cure the poison.
Physical release of the pain inside. The tarantella is very powerful.” As the dancer
approaches them, Pina, protective of the dance’s powers, says to her “Go away!
That’s not the way it’s supposed to be! Tarantella is not like that."
The reclamation of the function and power of the tarantella illustrates precisely
the process of reinvention in which Diana must partake. Her condition is not
uncommon and it is not only an Italian phenomenon. Rather, it is a symptom of
displacement and a feeling of cultural incongruence that, as this film suggests, can be
at least in-part be overcome by tapping into the past. When she volunteers to become
Diana’s comare, she tells the younger woman, who doesn’t see the need for Pina’s
help, that it’s good to be independent, but “be like that by knowing who you are not by
being afraid.” The result will be a world of Diana’s own making well beyond the
artificial one previously known by her, because it will be informed by history.
Bibliography:
de Martino, Ernesto. Morte e pianto rituale: dal lamento funebre antico al pianto di
Maria. Torino: Universale scientifica Boringhieri, 123/124, 1975.
Lombardi Satriani, Luigi M. e Meligrana, Mariano. Il ponte di San Giacomo. Palermo:
Sellerio, 1989.
No comments:
Post a Comment