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by Lons

Issue #8

"Money isn't like a car that can sit idle in a garage. It's like a horse that has to eat every day."
 
From his modernist penthouse office, wallpapered with street maps and architectural designs, developer and city councilman Edoardo Nottola (Rod Steiger) looks out on a sprawling view of downtown Naples. When he gazes out at the nighttime sky, the decorations adorning his office walls superimpose themselves across the windows - he sees his imagined future city refracted through the grim, impoverished reality of the present.

Nottola's motivated primarily by greed, seeking power as a stepping stone to acquiring greater wealth, but director Francesco Rosi's captivating and prescient 1963 film Hands Over the City also suggests a deeper, buried desire to carve out a personal legacy on the streets of Naples. Later, when Nottola walks through the streets at night, streets lined by election posters adorned with his own grinning visage, his urge to remake the city in his own image, as a reflection of his personal glory, comes into clear relief.

Generally, these kinds of cinematic explorations of governmental or corporate corruption focus on a likable hero whose investigations turn up well-hidden conspiracies or furtive backdoor negotiations. Parallax View explores collusion at the highest levels of government and big business through the eyes of a plucky reporter, while Chinatown delves into similar concerns about bribery and graft among city planners from the perspective of a private investigator with no real alliances or loyalties other than himself and his client.

Rosi's film, sometimes referred to as "social realism," an extension of the neo-realist concept popular in Italy at the time, takes the opposite tack. He opens with a cabal of investors and businessmen, standing on a dirt hill overlooking Naples and deciding the direction in which the city will develop. It's reminiscent of Luis Bunuel's satirical L'Age D'or (The Golden Age), in which ridiculous men in tuxedos dedicate a plaque on a beach, thereby "founding" the City of Rome. Silly little self-important men who have come into money and influence via luck, nepotism or lax ethical standards make decisions that directly impact the daily lives of millions.

"My votes cost me millions. I got them one by one, door by door."

Most of these men, in addition to real estate investors, are also members of the Naples City Council. (Nottola is the primary investor and also the current head councilman). The phrase "conflict of interest" itself is never uttered, yet it forms the essence of Rosi's critique. Elected officials are meant to represent the will of the people, the citizenry of Naples, which is impossible if they are also financially invested in the city's future.  Clearly , if the same men who stand to profit from the development of Naples get to decide the policies governing that development, they will do so in a way that looks out for their personal interests over those of the general public, in the same way that Dick Cheney supports measures that will financially benefit his old employer rather than the average soldier on the ground in Iraq.   This is painfully obvious.
 
Nottola is given a duplicitous monologue to this effect.  How can he be in violation of the law if he and his friends go to work every day and set the laws?

While razing some slums to make way for a fancy new high-rise apartment building, Nottola's crew accidentally causes an occupied building to topple, killing two and injuring a young child. Rosi shoots from a distance in crisp widescreen black-and-white, taking in the full impact of the tragedy on an entire neighborhood. The opening of the film contains many such scenes - a helicopter tour over the top of the Naples skyline, birds-eye views of bustling downtown streets, some incredible tracking shots through the teeming masses of protesters and residents in the ghettos - before closing in on the stories of a few politicians and businessmen. Accordingly, Rosi's and Gianni Di Venanzo's cinematography grows increasingly claustrophobic as the film goes on, eventually trading in fabulous panoramas that take in the entire cityscape for uncomfortable close-ups and tight two-shots.

Coming in the midst of an election season, the accident and the ensuing inquiries and scandals split the already fractured city government. The head of the left-wing coalition, the outspoken De Vita (brilliant amateur actor Carlo Fermariello) sees this as an opportunity to indict the entire corrupt system of Naples city government, to pull back the curtain and show Nottola and his right-wing cronies for the corrupt robber barons and sycophants they really are. He forms a tense and uncertain coalition with the center party, represented by concerned hospital administrator Balsamo (Angelo D'Alessandro), to investigate any malfeasance or neglect on the part of the developers who approved the doomed high-rise project.

Though De Vita and Balsamo are armed with intelligence, passion and the truth, Nottola and the right wing power brokers, represented by the overweight, venal Maglione (Guido Alberti) have majority power, the finances and the influence with the media to overcome pretty much any frontal attack. The parallels to modern-day America are striking and numerous.

"When there's no political will to investigate, an inquiry serves no purpose."

The tactics used by Nottola to evade responsibility for the building collapse identically mirror those used by today's Republican party. They argue that, because of Naples' historical background and topography, such accidents are unpredictable and solely the fault of mother nature. (Just as George Bush argued that no one could have foreseen the destruction of New Orleans' levees).

They argue that a press eager to report on scandal, coupled with Communists and other left-wing agitators, are making a bit deal out of the story just to hurt those in power and sway voters. (Just as brazen Republicans suggest that the Mark Foley scandal is political rather than moral in nature, focusing deliberately on the timing of the revelation rather than the specific charges.)

They blame underlings, claiming that staff members or low-level politicos failed to alert the necessary authorities in time to prevent calamity, in scenes eerily reminiscent of Dennis Hastert's recent press conferences.

Some on the right even claim, in a move that's become Standard White House Operating Procedure, that they cannot comment in any way on the scandal because it might interfere with an investigation that's presently underway. You heard these sorts of remarks from Dan Bartlett every day during the Valerie Plame Affair, hiding behind the skirts of investigative committees for fear of self-incrimination.

Finally, the culprits begin to turn on each other, looking for a scapegoat, any scapegoat, to accept responsibility and make the matter disappear. At one point, Maglione even tries to get Nottola to accept the blame himself, to back out of the race for the sake of the other right-wing candidates. (Underestimating Nottola's skills as a politicians and will to power doesn't turn out well for him in the end.)

As De Vita consistently points out, such evasions seek to obscure the truth from the citizens and to maintain the status quo, which is then bolstered by the inconclusive results of an ineffective or lazy investigation. Much-touted public inquiries only serve to further promote the agenda of corruption - responsible politicians can then claim that an investigation has been done that has cleared them of any guilt, even if they were themselves responsible for the results of the investigation.   (See also, Jack Abramoff).

"How can we guide public opinion if we accept the likes of him?"

Appropriately, Rosi's film and his left-wing characters are frustrated and angry. They can see what is happening, how the greed has become self-perpetuating and how it has led to the subjugation of the vast majority of Naples' honest citizens, but they are powerless because they lack the ability to communicate this message to the masses. Nottola and his powerful friends have all the money, can sway the people with slick propaganda, and the honest politicians have little in the way of recourse. (Rosi's clear, sober understanding of the disproportionate power of television to guide public opinion was literally decades ahead of his time.)

What can be done? When more buildings are scheduled for destruction by Nottola and their residents evicted, De Vita comes to the poor neighborhood to speak. He castigates the locals for failing to understand the issues at play, for voting incorrectly in the last election and giving these criminals and villains power. Fermariello seethes but never forgets that the anger isn't really directed at these workers, that he's sharing his frustration at the wealthy and disconnected with them as an instructive lesson in political reality.

Steiger didn't speak Italian, so his lines have been dubbed by a different actor. It affects the performance in some obvious ways, but he's nevertheless physically ideal for the role and gets in some nice, subtle non-verbal moments. Before a particularly brazen lie during a phone conversation, he rubs his middle finger down the center of his nose, perhaps showing the viewer a nervous tic he wouldn't dare reveal to any of his rivals or enemies. By choosing to live as such a visible, powerful man, an iconic symbol of his city, Nottola has chosen to live a very segmented life, keeping his private thoughts to himself and never revealing his true motives or feelings , even to close allies and friends.  In spite of the language barrier, or perhaps because of it, Steiger turns in an imposing, iconic performance.

These two men in direct social and political opposition - the outspoken civic activist and the megalomaniacal developer - has a whiff of sad inevitability. There's no way, politically, that De Vita can really challenge Nottola for control of Naples future. Early on in the film, we see developers and investors standing around a three-dimensional scale model of the city's planned "improvements," and they cheer and toast their extravagant and profitable new project. The fix is in, Rosi seems to say. There isn't much chance of altering this future. The later betrayal of Balsamo and the dissolution of the left-center coalition only confirms what Nottola has known from the first moment of the film. Money will create more money, consolidation of power leads to even deeper and more complete consolidation. These things are not means to some other end, like fashioning a new city or obtaining more luxuries. They are ends unto themselves, the necessarily and inevitable result of a competitive capitalist system where political power is for sale to the highest bidder.

Hands Over the City comes out on Criterion DVD October 24th.