La cotta is a short film made for Italian television and broadcast sometime in 1967, but I don't have an exact date so I'm lumping it in here as I begin going through my grab bag of leftover films from that year. It's only available as a supplement on the DVD edition of Il posto that Criterion released back in 2003, and it stands as proof that some of the very finest gems that the Collection has to offer need to be discovered by sifting through the extras that they've used to fill out their discs over the years. It's been nearly four years since I wrote about Il posto on this blog, and even though I haven't gone back to revisit the film since then, I still retain a pleasant memory of how I felt afterwards - warm, relaxed, affirmed and delighted at the simple things of life. My review (link embedded above) bears that out, and I'm delighted to say that director Ermanno Olmi didn't lose his touch over the six years that separated his breakout hit of 1961 and this utterly charming and unassuming TV featurette that focuses on the romantic affections of a smart and slightly overconfident fifteen - er, let's say sixteen - year old boy. Who considers himself a man, due to certain experiences he's been having. For several years. (or so he claims...)
Andrea is his name, and he takes what he calls an "industrial" approach to managing not only his love life, but that of his pals. He's from Milan, the manufacturing and financial hub of the then-burgeoning Italian economy, son of a war veteran who was already fighting on Mussolini's behalf in Africa when he was Andrea's age, and resentful of the privileges enjoyed by the upcoming generation. And why not - there's just a whiff of spoilage hanging over this social circle. The guys are all sharply dressed and at least one of them has access to a snazzy sports car, but the crew is still too young and innocent to be considered a late 60s version of I vitelloni. Still, the boys all wear snappy suits and ties, and their girlfriends are compatibly attired as well when they gather in the rich kid's parlor to listen to a new LP of classical symphonic music, just for kicks.
La Cotta's title translates as "The Crush," and that's exactly what happens to Andrea when he makes a connection with Jeanine, a new entrant into their scene who's just moved in with her grandmother. Rumor has it that she's had to relocate from her native France due to some scandalous involvement she had with a 40 year old guy, but we never really learn if there's any truth to the gossip. It might just be the kind of chatter that jealous girls spread about a cute new rival who's likely to turn the heads of boys on whom they've already staked a claim. Jeanine does come across as a girl who's had some experience in the affairs of the heart, but she's not so fast and loose that she can't simply enjoy the game on a girlish level. Andrea falls hard for her, and before too long, Olmi is bringing his precocious and utterly sweet schoolboy romantic fantasies out from his silent imagination and up on the screen for us all to enjoy, with a blend of easy laughter and the occasional wince as we recall our own naivete at that age. The technique is a bit confusing at first, since we're not immediately told through some kind of obvious visual cue what's actually happening and what's just going on in his head, but it falls into place quickly enough. I really admire how Olmi switches gears so smoothly. He brings us right into that adolescent swirl of emotions, all the ups and downs of anticipation and excitement, fulfillment and disappointment, self-congratulation and bewilderment that inevitably occurs when our teenage reality fails to follow our most carefully planned and ardently desired script. And of course, this can happen at any stage of life, but there's nothing quite so poignantly hilarious when we're watching it happen to a young smarty pants who thinks he has it all figured out.
I won't say more about how the tale unfolds, except that I wish I'd known about it on New Year's Eve since it makes for great holiday viewing on that occasion (and I had a houseful of young adult visitors who I know would have enjoyed it, but hey, we watched Jellyfish Eyes and that worked out pretty great too!) But on top of the charming wit and humor, Olmi also adds some nice grace notes of compassion and wisdom about the ways of love that are very affirming, true to life and never exploitative or cheap. This is about as strong a recommendation as I can make, to seek this one out, if the above description makes it sound like something you'd enjoy. Used copies of the DVD are easy to find for ~$10, and Il posto tossed into the deal makes it a terrific bargain. Sorry, here's the only video clip I could find anywhere on the web, and it's not very representative of the film at all. The scene's significance is explained in this essay from College Film & Media Studies, which also provides a fine academic overview of Olmi's work. Anyway, here it is.
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