Set against the luxurious battlements of Capri, 'Il Mare' (1962) follows three young individuals during the island's desolate winter. The Roman emperor Commodus once banished his sister and niece to Capri and then had them murdered-a historical anecdote not usually associated with this romanticized island, which Neruda described as the "queen rock" ("reina de roca") but more fitting for introducing 'Il Mare'. The film offers sparse biographical details about its characters, revealing only that one is an actor. By their cultured haughtiness and other habits, it appears that each is accustomed to the finer things in life but currently suffers from the trauma of various unspecified romantic thorns, as indicated by a whelping outburst from each.
The three run into one another and behave in a beastly way, but avoid vulgarity. Atmospherically cold and mysterious, tonally somewhere between more well-known films such as Antonioni's 'L'Eclisse' (also 1962) and Bazzoni's 'La donna del lago' (1965), 'Il Mare' is full of intriguing, icy, and serpentine chemistry that is its own.
'Il Mare' is now being discussed within the context of 'queer cinema,' largely due to the nuanced tension between the two male leads, which suggests a deeper connection beyond typical heterosexual interactions. The younger man appears to romantically imprint upon the elder on the first evening of their meeting, using him as a proxy for his ex. A discussion about how to drink Haig whisky reminded me of Frankie Goes to Hollywood's advice about relaxing, which famously provided "between the lines" instructions on sexual tempo to gay youths that went over the heads of many parents when it played on the radio. 'Il Mare' certainly warrants discussion in terms of the lineage of queer cinema, although it feels somewhat like it "happens to be queer." The actual sex depicted is between the "actor" and the "woman" as their roles are labeled.
The central theme revolves around three wounded individuals confronting or succumbing to the 'sea,' which serves as a metaphor for various existential challenges-be it the indifference of the universe, the perversity of fate, or the crapshoot of romance. Although hardly anyone saw the movie on release, both Derek Jarman and Bill Douglas were greatly inspired by it. It's suggested that Tony Richardson must have seen it prior to making 'Mademoiselle,' and I propose that Bazzoni (or Rossellini, his co-director on 'La donna del lago') must have seen it as well. Bill Douglas went to see the movie over twenty times, as his local cinema kept a copy and played it whenever they had a gap in the programming.
A rather elusive and heady movie that stays with me days later, scenes like the " assassination acting" and "the perfuming" are iconic. There are also fine astral images, such as the woman and the actor talking with the sun between them.
