Awesome!
Simply awesome! Out of what I've seen (missed the first half hour, I think) I especially liked the scene with the cat.
Pure magic!
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MovieChat Forums > Allegro non troppo (1977) Discussion > Awesome!
To this day, I can't listen to Valse Triste by Sibelius, without thinking about that poor little kitty.
"I've been smart; I recommend pleasant. You can quote me" - Elwood P. Dowd
Bozzetto designed the cutest kitten in existence to tha scene!
share<Sob> I can't talk about the scene anymore without crying. Poor kitty....<dissolves into tears>
The Journalist
I Valentine...
I Gene Wilder more...
I hate to be so literal minded, but did the fade out of the cat signify that he himself was just a memory, or does it mean that he dies at the end, alone?
shareHe has died before this. He was a hallucination himself.
shareThat was my interpretation - he was in some kinda limbo where he relived his past life as he still couldn't let it go. That was the only way I could explain the shapeless obilisks/buildings at the start surrounding the house and the fade out at the end.
Seemed to be a pretty good antiwar message in there somewhere, at least to me... anyone else notice the dead kid (or is it a doll) in the initial pan?
I thought it was basically anti-demolition of old houses. Wasn't it about the demolition of the last old house in that area?
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The Journalist
I Valentine and V...But I Danny Elfman more...
This segment...the cat's recollection...was perhaps the absolutely sadest piece of animation I've ever seen...ever (and I mean that in the literal way, NOT an insult but in fact a big compliment...The animation itself was wondermous!!) To this day, I cannot watch it; It gives my eyes 'allergies'...hehe.
shareAnyone dry-eyed after watching that should go back to "Shrek".
shareI'm pretty sure it's a doll - i really think that the house isn't a war ruin, but that it's being knopcked to make room for more of the soulless concrete boxes that surround it ion the opening shot.
shareActually, I read somewhere that the bombed out house the cat was wandering thru was reminiscent of his own experiences during World War 2.....the wee kitty symbolizing the grief, sorrow and utter dispair that the many WWII refugees must've felt when they returned to their homes to find nothing left..no family, no home, nothing.
shareThe ghost of a cat haunting the ghost of a house.
And soon to lose that.
A lovely little illustration of cat-tastrophe.
Okay, okay, I'm REALLY sorry about the levity, but what IS this, a confessional? ( Hi, my name is Bill W. and I suffer from manic-depression compounded by felinophilia... ) There is, after all, in case you missed it, a separate entry for this subject ( see my own contribution ). Let's get back to the movie as a whole! Witty, snappy, and smart as a whip, with an edge to its observations which makes that film by what's-his-name, Prisney, look like the candidate for the Pretentious Gallery that the highbrows of 1940 agreed it was.
Here we have a venerable old opera house, populated by: a cocky, head-in-the-clouds snob of an impresario; an orchestra of dear little old ladies looking like a roundup of Max Bialystock's financial backers; a jolly, bullying oaf of a conductor; a meek little Cinderella of a stage-hand; and, first but not least, a Bohemian-looking animator who's been kept on permanent call by being chained up to the wall of a dungeon! Now, I ask you - how could Deems Taylor ever top this?
The animated sequences more than live up to the impresario's boasting, however. Debussy starts us off with his "Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun", and right away we know we're not in Prisneyland anymore, Toto...a lush Arcadia where naked pastel-colored nymphs sport with amorous satyrs, plus one senior goat-foot whose age betrays him every time he tries to join in with the hot young tail. Then it's on to Dvorak's "Slavonic Dance No. 7", with a parable about individuality, the eagerness to imitate ( especially when it's not wanted ), and how even the sheep have a certain common sense. Then, lunch break for the orchestra ( graywater soup ), while impresario and conductor dine in class...and then, one of the film's two centerpieces, an epic that demonstrates that if the gods must be crazy, then so too the whole of evolution. Progressing onwards, upwards and outwards to the mirroring of Ravel's "Bolero", it all culminates in the ultimate insanity, due to the gradual sophistication of a certain thieving little simianoid...
The second half of the program begins strong with centerpiece #2...an eerie little weepie perfectly matched to Sibelius's "Valse Triste" that has already attracted commentary enough without elaboration here. Then, on to a sprightly Vivaldi piece from the "Concerto in C minor" wherein a busy little bee ( who bears just a slight resemblance to Marge Simpson ) obsessing over her flower-dinnertable while dodging two humans obsessed with "the birds AND the bees"... Then, our 'noble' conductor and 'patient' animator express their affection for each other's invaluable contributions to the show, before moving to selections from Stravinsky's "The Firebird" suite. For those who may disapprove of the view of Creation advanced in the "Bolero" segment, here is a Creationist variant, with Jehovah ( through the miracle of Claymation ) eventually perfecting His Divine Imagery on ( Animated ) Earth, the pair of whom of course then have to contend with a twitchy and mischievous, if cute, little Snake...with surprising results, not least of which is an uproar among the orchestral matrons afterwards.
Suddenly bereft of musicians and an animator ( who has crafted an appropriate escape route for him and his charming little companion-in-oppression ), our plucky impresario resorts, for a finale, to a telephone call ordering a certain Francostini to search among the files for something, anything to scrape together musically and pictorially. This animated Igor-like dimbulb does his best, and the scattershot results from three separate tries goes a long way towards bringing down the house for us.
Imagery to fill dreams and nightmares of all ages for a long time afterwards, music drawn from the greats, wrapped around ideas and themes to please a discerning sage, served up by a supporting cast that only lacks Margaret Dumont observing from a private box...Estraordinario e divino! BRAVO, BRAVISSIMO, Signore Bozzetto!