‘Miracle in Milan’ or — A Spoonful of Sugar?
It opens with the words ‘Once Upon a Time…’ as an elderly woman discovers a newborn baby, whom she calls Totò, in her cabbage patch. Raising the child as her own she soon passes away forcing the kid into an orphanage, although when Totò emerges from the institution as a young adult he still seems in possession of his optimistic childlike innocence.
And it’s just as well Totò has such a sunny disposition because the only accommodation he can secure is in the rundown shantytown on the outskirts of Milan. The various and varied inhabitants of this human landfill appreciate Totò’s cheerful demeanour especially as it seems they have very little, if nothing, worth living for.
Yet as their attitudes brighten so, it seems, do their fortunes when an underground discovery suddenly rockets the value of “their” land dramatically, although these celebrations are short lived as the police are soon sent in by the rapacious landowners to evict these indigent masses. It seems only a miracle can save them now, but fortunately it just so happens that miracles sometimes take place in Milan. But should they?
Vittorio De Sica (director) and Cesare Zavattini’s (co-writer) ‘Miracle in Milan’ (1951) is a delightful and charming fable, yet don’t be too easily seduced by all the light-hearted whimsy because this might be one of the most vital, important and influential movies in all Italian cinema. I also suspect this might be De Sica’s masterpiece.
What’s initially striking about the movie is how it straddles neo-realism and magical realism by combining its focus on the lowest rungs of society with the visual fantasy of early silent cinema (imagine a cross between Rossellini and Méliès) and the effect is that of an invigorating gulp of bracing fresh air. You see, one of the main problems with neo-realist cinema and its “moral duty” to “capture” “unfiltered” “reality” (along with always having to use so many bloody quotation marks when discussing it) is that it inevitably ties itself up in a mass of contradictions — how can you capture “realism” with what is, essentially, a magical device?
‘Miracle in Milan’ fully embraces cinema’s innate fantasy and, in the process, gets it messages across — exploitation, land ownership, social cruelty, poverty, etc –more successfully than many of the dogmatically “realistic” neo-realist works ever could. And besides, a touch of magical comedy always helps create some much needed empathy.
So despite all the destitution on display this is very much a fantasy land these barboni (homeless) inhabit. Their shantytown outside Milan might be a wasteland but it is also a dream-space: isolated doors tilt at surrealist angles; shafts of warming sunlight illuminate precise areas of chilling space; the surrounding city is less a place of a human society and more an alienating, abstract boundary.
The characters themselves are caricatured extremes with Totò himself coming across as a sort of holy trinity of cinematic and cosmic naifs (imagine Charlie Chaplin, Jesus Christ and E.T. all rolled into one) thus allowing him to perform all sorts of miracles without us questioning the logic.
When the miracles do occur they underscore one of De Sica’s and Zavattini’s carefully and deliberately chosen attitudes, namely — ‘poverty does not equate to moral superiority’. So the poor here aren’t put on a patronising pedestal but, instead, are as flawed and short-sighted as the wealthy. When they realise that Totò can grant their wishes none of them ask for noble or altruistic benevolences but, instead — fur coats, tiaras, cravats and all manner of impractical luxuries. There’s an incredibly funny shot where we observe Totò talking to his sweet-heart and as he tells her he’s concerned about the effects of his wish-granting is having we can see, in the background, some of the homeless driving around in little, tiny cars. It’s wonderful.
Yet it’s the blindingly obvious influence of De Sica and Zavattini’s work that’s the most striking aspect about the film. How influential is ‘Miracle in Milan’? For starters you can immediately identify the exaggerated characters and carnivalesque exuberance of Fellini AND the landscape of remote alienation of Antonioni both operating here several years before either of those directors would be associated with those particular styles. And, at the risk of committing blasphemy, I’d dare say that De Sica’s lightness of touch is more successful than either of those two!
Want more examples? How about these -
The tender, drily humourous portrayal of the underclass screams Aki Kaurismäki; the placing of figures against sparse spaces suggests Theo Angelopoulos; the magical realism creates images of Wim Wenders enraptured by this in a Dusseldorf cinema; the film shattering itself at the end as the trucks disintegrate is as powerful as the cinema breaking devices of Jodorowsky and Imamura. And to top it off why not chuck in ‘E.T.’ and ‘Bruce Almighty’ for good measure as we witness our heroes ascending to the skies whilst authority figures are rendered inarticulate by forces beyond their control.
Not only that but ‘Miracle in Milan’ is an eye-poppingly beautiful movie with some of the most utterly gorgeous black and white cinematography and visual compositions you could wish for or imagine. Fortunately, Totò is here with his magical dove to grant our wishes so we don’t need to imagine — just simply sit back and allow ourselves to be dazzled.
