Brother, Brother: There's So Many of You Lying, Crying, and Dying

Tetro (2009)

Francis Ford Coppola. Now there’s a name we haven’t heard in the film world for a long time. Wine, yes. But as far as creating a notable cinematic work (at least compared to his once legendary status), his name has been almost nonexistent. In fact, the only film he’s made since Apocalypse Now (1979) that has any staying power is arguably his adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992), an over-the-top avalanche of high drama and visual delight, and that was a solid seventeen years ago. In 2007, we were reminded of him when Youth Without Youth came out (a film I did not see), but even that was poorly received. Now, there is Tetro. And the question on everyone’s mind is, “Has he finally returned?”

The answer is yes and no. Tetro is a mostly solid but not great effort that will do little to hurt Coppola’s damaged reputation, but it won't go very far in reminding people about his Godfather and Conversation days either. The story concerns the highly dysfunctional Tetrocini family, headed by a wealthy composer patriarch, played by Klaus Maria Brandauer, whose heartless rise to success can only be classified as “shady”. Brandauer, however, is only present in the film’s numerous color flashbacks (the majority of the narrative is in Black & White), as the focal points of are the younger Tetrocini men, played by Vincent Gallo and Alden Ehrenreich. Through a series of deliberately revealed family secrets, tragedies, and double-crosses, Coppola creates an absorbing portrait of a truly fucked-up group of people. Though overlong and not particularly original in any way (this is little more than another Greek tragedy update), Tetro is rarely boring.

Coppola takes a little while getting started, but he eventually wins us over with his compellingly damaged characters, Gallo’s mysterious and self-destructive writer in particular. The dialogue is a tad awkward at times, and the characters (with the exception of the always marvelous Maribel Verdu) are kept oddly at a distance, but there remains something irresistibly watchable about these ancient themes. Perhaps it is the comfort of repetition, something that both helps and harms the film. It works for about the first two-thirds, but by the end, you will be rolling your eyes with increasing annoyance at each ridiculous and unsurprising new “twist” Coppola tries to cram into the last half-hour.

One thing Coppola has never had trouble with is creating memorable imagery, and his atmospheric portrayal of modern Buenos Aires is no exception. The intimate interiors and richly detailed outdoor scenes are united by his beautiful use of light and shadow. Visually, the film never falters, and is matched by a lovely and evocative soundtrack. The creation of an atmosphere is one of the film’s main triumphs.

The acting is solid, and the themes – endlessly recycled though they are – remain absorbing, but Tetro is ultimately done in by overlength and a concluding half hour that seems forced, tacked on, and improbable. Far from Coppola’s greatest failure, it is also certainly not one of his best. Fans of the director and cinematography enthusiasts will find much to enjoy here. Others beware.

AND...

Rocco and His Brothers (1961)

What can I say about Rocco and His Brothers that hasn’t already been said a thousand times? Widely considered one of the greatest films ever made, Luchino Visconti’s epic Italian family drama is the primary reason we have such movies as the Godfather trilogy (you may have heard of it) and many of the films of Martin Scorcese and Bernardo Bertolucci, to name a few. A brief overview will have to do for now, then you’ll just have to see it for yourself. This is legendary cinema; you almost have no choice.

The central characters are the five Parondi boys, members of a poor farming clan from southern Italy that makes its way to Milan after its patriarch dies. Divided loosely into five chapters, one for each son (Vincenzo, Simone, Rocco, Ciro, and Luca), this three-hour behemoth traces over a year of their struggle to find fortune and happiness in the big city. Their path is alternately guided or obstructed by love, hate, betrayal, and one another, resulting in an operatic yet realist-influenced portrait of social mobility and family bonds.

Despite its imposing length, this film is nearly impossible to look away from. The more you get to know these characters, the more riveting their struggles become, and by the end you will find yourself laughing, crying, and shouting right along with them. The themes presented, like Tetro’s, are as ancient as Greece, but unlike the other film, Rocco is both genuinely startling and unpredictable, and about twenty times more absorbing. The casting is spot-on, the acting is flawless (Alain Delon and the rest of the brothers are rock solid, but Katina Paxinou as their hyper-dramatic mother steals the show), and the direction is masterful. My only qualm is Nino Rota’s score, which sounds suspiciously like another he would write eleven years later (Godfather fans will know what I’m talking about).

Many filmgoers are often turned off by very long movies, especially ones where the reading of subtitles is a necessary part of understanding the plot. While Rocco and His Brothers employs both of these, it is one of the cases in which I don't think either will impede even casual audiences’ enjoyment of the film. It’s that beautifully simple. This movie is a unanimously acknowledged classic. Go see what the fuss is about, and judge for yourself.