• L’avventura: A Present Absence

    By Geoffrey Nowell-Smith

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    A group of rich Italians is on a cruise off the coast of Sicily when one of their number—a moody, unhappy young woman—disappears. Murder, kidnapping, accident, suicide? Her boyfriend and her close friend search for her, but the search turns into a new love story, and the mystery is never resolved.

    With this simple, elusive tale, director Michelangelo Antonioni launched himself to the forefront of the emerging European art cinema. At the time of L’avventura’s premiere at Cannes, in May 1960, he was forty-six and had directed five previous features, all of them interesting but none of them able to massively capture the public’s attention. The premiere was a disaster, with catcalls erupting throughout the auditorium. But the critics loved it, and so—when it went into international release—did wider audiences. With L’avventura, Antonioni’s career was made, and the film is now an acknowledged classic.

    Forty years ago, the film struck audiences mainly with its freshness, and it can still have that effect today. It surprises with its insights: characters do unexpected things in unexpected places, but in a way that provokes recognition—yes, that does happen, though it doesn’t conform to the way we think things ought to happen.

    At the beginning of the film, Sandro (Gabriele Ferzetti) and his girlfriend, Anna (Lea Massari), have an uneasy relationship. They have been apart for a while, and getting together again they feel like strangers. When the yacht stops at a deserted volcanic island, Anna goes for a walk and doesn’t come back. The rest of the film hinges on the search for this woman who has mysteriously disappeared.

    In fact, only two members of the cruise party pursue the search with any conviction: Sandro and Anna’s best friend, Claudia (Monica Vitti). The search is complicated when Sandro becomes distracted from it and turns his attentions to Claudia. His inconstancy is not explained. There is little psychologizing, and certainly no moralizing. After much hesitation, Claudia returns his affection, and the two fall in love.

    From the moment that Sandro’s pursuit of Claudia is suddenly converted into mutual passion, the film’s momentum changes. Anna recedes into the back- ground, but her absence continues to haunt the narrative, right until the very end. This absence—which is also a presence—is a key to the film. It inevitably brings to mind Hitchcock, who plays with a similar motif in Rebecca (1940) and Vertigo (1958), and also dispatches his heroine early in a film exactly contemporary with L’avventura—Psycho. (Antonioni would later develop another Hitchcock theme, that of the wrong man, in The Passenger in 1975.)

    In other respects, however, Antonioni and Hitchcock can be seen as opposites. In L’avventura, events just happen; nothing signals them as significant. Anna does not actively disappear, she is just no longer on-screen, and neither the audience nor the other characters are aware of her not being present. Tension is generally slack, and when it does build, it does so obscurely, brought to life more by a surrounding uncertainty than by careful preparation and accelerating rhythms. Above all, chance is chance, and no inexorable train of events is ever set in motion.

    What L’avventura showed was that films do not have to be structured around major events, that very little drama can happen and a film can still be fascinating to its audience. It also showed—and this was harder for viewers to grasp—that events in films do not have to be, in an obvious way, meaningful. L’avventura presents its characters behaving according to motivations as unclear to themselves as to the audience; they are sensitive to mood, to landscape, to things that happen, but they also behave in routine and conformist ways. None of them, except Claudia (who had, in her words, “a sensible childhood . . . without any money”), seem to have much consciousness of the lack of direction that afflicts them. They are, to use a word very fashionable at the time the film came out, alienated. But to say, as many critics did, that the film is “about” alienation is to miss the point. The film shows; it doesn’t argue. It convinces by the sensitivity and accuracy of its observation, not by heavy signals to the audience to think this, that, or the other.

    More than any other film, L’avventura seems to define the spirit of a time in cinema when anything seemed possible and there was no territory into which it could not venture. Above all, what it seeks to capture is the world of fleeting emotion, feelings that are unstable and crystallize only momentarily in the camera’s gaze. After L’avventura, Antonioni did not look back. He made three more films with Vitti—La notte (1961), L’eclisse (1962), and Red Desert (1964)— each time pushing further the frontiers of what cinema could explore. It is hard to say which of these films is the best. But L’avventura is the one that started Antonioni on his quest, and remains the one that most clearly represents the unique nature of his art.

    Geoffrey Nowell-Smith is the editor of The Oxford History of World Cinema, a coeditor of The British Film Institute, the Government and Film Culture, 1933– 2000, and the author of a BFI monograph on L’avventura. This piece originally appeared in the Criterion Collection’s 2001 DVD edition of L’avventura.

5 comments

  • By Ned Hammam, London
    February 06, 2011
    12:16 PM

    Excellent review, thank you. L'Avventura has iconic status, a true masterpiece in every sense! Several pl.ots and storylines intertwine. One of them, the disappearance of Anna, is central to the film. The tension lingers forever because we never get to know what happened to her. Has anything been published about what happened to her? regards, Ned
    Reply
    • By Anderson
      August 10, 2013
      11:25 PM

      Wikipedia says A. told Robbe-Grillet that they shot the scene of finding Anna's body, but it didn't make the final cut - thank heavens, I'd say. The film is perfect as it is.
  • By Ogier
    December 01, 2014
    02:20 PM

    One aspect of the film that most seem to miss, is Sandro's disaffection stemming from his failure to sustain his career as an architect. How deeply this has affected him is shown when he spoils a students ink sketch. Yes, he is making money as an estimator but clearly he feels this doesn't suffice. Amusingly, his decision to quit the profession was the result of a woman insisting on a certain color.
    Reply
  • By Aaron R.
    December 11, 2014
    01:11 PM

    This is one of my favorite movies of all time, but where is the Apu Triology that Roger Ebert always talked about!!! I want to watch The World of Apu!!!! I want to be a man again!
    Reply
  • By Aaron R.
    December 11, 2014
    01:12 PM

    World of Apu is the sequel to Jungle Book in my opinion!!!
    Reply