A slight, bittersweet effort, Misunderstood (Incompreso, 1966) offers no true surprises in its Italian coming-of-age contraptions. However, it offers many tried-and-true elements of the melodrama that make the film a rather charming sum of its various rudimentary parts. Helmed by Luigi Comencini, one the godfathers of Commedia all’italiana, a genre of Italian comedies in the ‘60s and ‘70s informed by matters of the middle class, Misunderstood earns a sure direction, staying a course which sees a number of the performances come to admirable fruition, if not the development of an ultimately extraordinary story.
Initially dismissed as a film for children, Misunderstood reveals some mature ideas about childhood and family and would seem to sit better with adult audiences. Though it was considered one of Comencini’s lesser efforts, it does not negate his clear talents for telling a story rich in details involving the narrative’s surrounding environments or probing subtle and effective performances from his leads.
Andrew (Stefano Colagrande) and Miles (Simone Giannozzi) are two boys who are faced with the death of their mother (Graziella Granata). While her death is shielded from the boys, Andrew, the elder, is discerning enough to understand what has happened. Asked by his father, John Duncombe (Anthony Quayle), who is the UK Consul General for Italy, to withhold information about their mother’s death from his younger brother, Andrew finds himself encumbered with trying to hide the truth from Miles while burying his grief.
Given their privilege as sons of a Consul General, the boys are free to engage in the wealth at hand, spending their time playing on the grounds of their estate, roving Florence city and its parks. These distractions don’t distract a curious Miles from inquiring about his missing mother, making Andrew’s task of keeping her death hidden increasingly difficult. This would be enough on Andrew’s already full plate. However, Miles’ predilection to get up to silly antics is blamed on Andrew, a predicament that puts Andrew in a contentious spot with his father. Andrew desperately tries to get his father’s attention, but his father’s demanding lifestyle and various business commitments leave no time for a sincere father-son relationship. As befitting of its very Eurocentric ideas of the childhood drama, it all ends in tragedy.
If the syrupy catches in Misunderstood threaten to deter the most sober viewer, the strong performances and the handsomely photographed picture are strong draws. Even though this is an internationally mixed cast and half the performances are dubbed (British actors Quayle and John Sharp speak their lines in English while dubbed in Italian), the performances are uniform, and the cast meshes well. Comencini manages especially to provoke authentic performances from his young leads, Colagrande and Giannozzi.
Often, as was the case throughout the ‘60s and ‘70s, children’s voices on film were dubbed by adults speaking in a voice that sounded like a child’s. Thankfully, the two young actors use their real voices in Misunderstood, allowing their performances to breathe naturally without artifice. Both Colagrande and Giannozzi work effortlessly to generate a genuine onscreen sibling relationship; their warmth is the blood by which the picture’s heart pumps.
Comencini also scores a plum actor in Quayle (best-known for his Oscar-nominated turn in Charles Jarrott’s 1969 period drama, Anne of the Thousand Days). Quayle doesn’t bludgeon the scenery with Father Knows Best-like histrionics but handles his role with a delicate balance of compassion and earnestness. The three of them produce a slick motion of nuance, subtlety, and humor, which gives the at-times maudlin story some real gravity. A comic turn by actor Sharp, playing the boys’ uncle, adds an acerbic edge that nudges the story toward a more mature audience.
Comencini also has a clear eye for color and beauty and finds the simplest ways to frame his scenes so they come alive with detail. The filmmaker marks his characters’ worlds distinctly with a hand that designs their living environments using the recognizable traits of a lived-in home. The Duncombe’s estate is opulent and lavish, but it retains all the small and personal assortments that make up a real home so that their house feels like a home and not a film set. Comencini encapsulates all this in a nostalgically sweet haze that brings a mist of a now bygone era down over the entire story; Florence, Italy, is captured here in its 1960s glory of pencil skirts, loafers, tailored suits, phonographs, and the materials of silk, brocade, and tweed.
The story falters at points when Comencini tries to milk tears instead of letting the story’s emotions unfold naturally. This may be the fault of the writing itself, but the filmmaker opts to film certain dramatic moments with such a heavy-handedness that Misunderstood veers into exploitative melodrama. Its ending, which is meant to convey the dangers of parenthood blunders and filmed with tightly drawn introspection, comes off as nihilistic.
Radiance Films’ delivers a beautiful transfer that captures the lush color scheme of an Italian summertime in bloom. Images are clear and vibrant, with colors that pop like fresh flowers, and the remastered transfer does true justice to Comencini’s vision, giving viewers a deeply pleasing look at the film. Sound and dialogue are also very clear, and the optional English subtitles are easy to read onscreen.
The release also boasts several supplements that give much insight into Misunderstood. The package includes interviews with the co-writer of the film and the director’s filmmaker daughter, who gives her take on the film. There is also an interview with film critic Michel Ciment and a visual essay on Comencini’s work by David Cairns. The Blu-ray is Region-coded A and B, meaning it will play on North American and European Blu-Ray players.
As far as coming-of-age childhood dramas go, Misunderstood doesn’t stand as tall next to efforts like Spain’s masterpiece The Spirit of the Beehive (1973), or a French New Wave classic like The 400 Blows (1959). But the film has its own merits for which it can hold its head high. Misunderstood, despite a few missteps, rewards viewers with a heartfelt depiction of childhood innocence. If, at times, the narrative dips like low-hanging fruit, remember that Comencini, regardless of whether or not he succeeds, intends to draw his world to the microcosm of a child so that we may be compelled to remember that innocence before it was lost.