December 29, 2019

IL PICCOLO DIAVOLO (THE LITTLE DEVIL) (1988)


Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Exorcised Demons.
(Subtitle by me.)

My familiarity (Versedness? What's the word?) with foreign film is sliver-like at best. (My knowledge of Canadian film isn't much better either. Certainly To Catch a Yeti wouldn't count, would it?) 

But sometimes, whether it be through an actor, director, genre, or, in The Little Devil's case, a logo (see below), my path to a film, obscure or not, can come from and lead me to some unusual places.

Roberto Benigni as Giuditta, the titular "Little Devil"

Walter Matthau as Father Maurice/Maurizio

Nicoletta Braschi as Nina

Stefania Sandrelli as Patricia/Patrizia

In several ways, The Little Devil is an unusual film, not just in its concept and execution, but also in its cast. Sure, Italian comedies with American stars were nothing new. (See Bette Davis and Joseph Cotten in 1972's The Scopone Game (a.k.a. The Scientific Cardplayer).) But seeing Walter Matthau of all people having to deal with an exorcised demon is unusual by any stretch of the imagination.

One of Matthau's many faces in this film. And it is just glorious.

The Little Devil is not a film that's huge on plot, and that's fine. It is a story that largely rests on its characters and their interactions with the titular devil, ironically the most innocent and childlike of them all. It's this charm, personality, and light-hearted narrative tissue that holds the film together, as embodied by Benigni (who also directed).


At the North American Pontifical College in Rome, Father Maurice has been given an ultimatum by Patricia, the woman he's fallen in love with, to make up his mind regarding leaving the church for her. However, when he exorcises a demon from a woman, Giuditta the demon, with nowhere else to go, chooses to tag along with Maurice instead. Hilarity ensues.


Matthau and Benigni's buddy cop prequel to The Couch Trip
would sadly be short-lived.

After several failed attempts at ditching Giuditta, as well as Giuditta's mischief getting him in trouble, Maurice is urged by his superiors to take a vacation, where he tries to win Patricia back.

At dinner with Maurice and his peers, Giuditta relates the story 
of being "inside" the woman he was possessing. 
The other guests react accordingly.


Yes, Giuditta's doing exactly what you think he's doing.

Again, Benigni's childlike wonder and Giuditta's total innocence keeps the events described above from coming off as totally crass or grotesque.


Inspired by an outdoor fashion show with model Nina,
Giuditta turns a solemn Mass into a fun runway show.

Driving the first half of the movie is the odd but lovable pairing of Benigni and Matthau. They are pure joy to watch together, and their contrasts play well off each other, resulting in a 2+2=5 for the film.


Matthau and Benigni's chemistry is The Little Devil's
biggest and best surprise.

Matthau is in fine comedic form here, whether by himself or playing off Benigni, and he's greatly missed when he's gone for the film's second half. Even a movie with just the two of them would have been great.

The film's second half sees Giuditta, now on his own, explore the world around him further and interacting with other characters, including Patricia herself after her first attempt to leave Maurice.

Giuditta is fascinated by the digital watch
of a fellow train passenger (Giacomo Piperno).


Soon, however, Giuditta falls for Nina, the model he saw earlier, and tries to learn how to woo her, with mixed results, to say the least.

Giuditta seeks love advice from hotel guest Cusatelli (John Lurie).

Braschi's Nina is hot-and-cold, impulsive, and temperamental, the opposite of sorts to Giuditta. Her behavior only fascinates him further and it's clear eventually that he also fascinates her. 

Benigni and future wife Braschi's characters engage
in a more intricate tennis match of contrasts.

Nina's regular stunt of pretending to be the girlfriend of 
random strangers is questionable at best, but Giuditta 
repeating the stunt verbatim brings it into absurdity.

Under normal circumstances, Nina's characterization would not age well, but the movie's twist near the very end does explain at least some of her behavior (even if it also makes the preceding events more complicated than needed for the big "goal" to be met). 

Near the end, Maurice returns, and it seems Patricia has left him for good, since we never hear of her  again. Given she wanted him to leave the church, but left him for showing up to Giuditta's mass sick in a bathrobe, he's probably better off without her anyway.

The conspiracy theorist in me likes to think the blue bathrobe from 
The Love Machine returned for a one-time appearance.

Seeing this shot: Totally worth it.

The Little Devil is a film that surprised me in several ways. Not being familiar with Italian society and Catholicism (or most religion in general, to be honest) and missing some of its satire didn't keep me from still enjoying the film and its inherent charm. In terms of its themes and execution, it's quite an accessible film and I think just about everyone will get something out of it.

BUT NOW, HERE'S THE BAD NEWS...

Unfortunately, there is a reason why you've probably never heard of this film or knew it even existed: The Little Devil was never given an official wide release in English. While a fully-English version was theatrically shown in Australia and select cities in Canada, and released on home video (subtitled) in countries like Greece, DVD and Blu-ray copies only have the film in Italian.

The Italian version is fully dubbed (with the main Italian actors dubbing themselves), including Matthau, with the exception of his brief singing. So the best chance you have right now of seeing it in English is a VHS quality copy on YouTube with Greek subtitles.

Between the two, I did notice several of Braschi and Benigni's scenes filmed in English and some different camera angles, but nothing substantial. The Italian dub copy I had is missing a later scene where Maurice tries to talk with Patricia to win her back, indicating it was sourced from a German master that originally cut the scene (ironically it's intact in both the English and Italian versions).

Maybe Kino Lorber can help us North Americans out, like it did with Charley Varrick, hm?

LOGO GEMS


The Columbia Pictures Italia logo is the "80s Torch Lady", but in all red. From what I could find, this is the normal version and not a variant done for this film. I also suddenly feel really bad for sensitive-eyed moviegoing Italians in the 80s.

TIDBITS AND SUCH

Evan Lurie (brother of John)'s music from the film is available on YouTube and is catchy as hell. Good luck getting "Devil Tango Casino" out of your head for the next week.


I'm not a huge fan of the original Italian poster, since its perspective always throws me off. I actually prefer the German poster, which has a great painting of Matthau and Benigni, even if it makes the film look racier than it actually is.


Also, this magazine cover looks like they just woke up poor Matthau, huh?


There are plenty of worse ways to spend an hour and a half than The Little Devil. It's a spacious, gentle film that's a breath of fresh air and is sure to open your mind a little, if you're a bit averse to foreign films.


Copyright © Chynna Moore

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