The Leopard
..... There are a few battles in the film, but for the most part Visconti’s attention is focused on the private lives of a Sicilian prince and his libertine nephew during that period in Italian history known as the Risorgimento, when the various principalities overthew their foreign masters and drew themsleves together into a unified modern state. Prince Salina, though tied by blood to the interests of the old regime, is astute enough to recognize that the future belongs to the revolutionaries. His nephew, who happens to be betrothed to his daughter, is active in revolutionary politics, and fights as a red-shirt with Garibaldi during the conquest of Sicily and Naples. A third dimension is added by the mayor of a nearby town who manages many of the Prince’s estates. He is a commoner and an opportunist, with his finger in several pies, and he’s become very wealthy in the course of time. He also has a vivacious daughter whom Tancredi finds very appealling.
It’s an old story, almost schematic in its purity—bourgeoise wealth and energy reinvigorating the aristocracy. Visconti is an aristocrat himself, though also a Marxist, and he brings scope and breeding to this very slow-moving story. Burt Landcaster, in the role of Prince Salina, conveys the man’s bitterness, cynicism, wisdom, and resignation admirably. The harsh Sicilian landscape adds to the mood, and the script, drawn from Lampedusa’s best-seller, has plenty of mordant observations about history, the ineluctability of change, and the endless vanity of the Sicilian people.
When first released, The Leopard was severely cut from its three-hour running time, and that affected the sense of slow and elegant decline. To make matters worse, the American release was poorly dubbed into English. We now have a restored, uncut version in Italian. It’s a masterpiece of social observation and cinematic artistry.
