The Leopard

The Leopard (Italian: Il Gattopardo) is a novel by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa that chronicles the changes in Sicilian life and society during the Risorgimento. Published posthumously in 1958, it became the top-selling novel in Italian history and is considered one of the most important novels in modern literature.

Tomasi was the last in a line of minor princes in Sicily, and he had long contemplated writing a historical novel based on his grandfather, another Prince of Lampedusa. After the Lampedusa palace was bombed and pillaged by Allied forces in World War II, Tomasi sank into a lengthy depression, and began to write Il Gattopardo as a way to combat it.

Despite being universally known in English as The Leopard, the original title Il Gattopardo actually refers to a serval. Although uncommon north of the Sahara Desert, one of the serval's few North African ranges is quite near Lampedusa. This animal is in the coat of arms of Tomasi's family.

The Leopard (Il Gattopardo) Review

By Daniel Etherington

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Burt Lancaster gives a great turn as an Italian aristocrat faced by the diminishing of his status under Garibaldi's unification of Italy in Visconti's personal film

Make sure you get to see Luchino Visconti's re-cut and remastered version of hisThe Leopard (Il Gattopardo). Infamously, Visconti's Hollywood backers hacked up his masterpiece and released a much-truncated, non-widescreen, badly dubbed version in the US and UK (not that the dubbing in the Italian version is perfect, but it's a fraction as offensive). 

The story is adapted from the 1958 novel by Sicilian Prince Guiseppe Di Lampedusa and inflected by Visconti's own experience of growing up in aristocratic society (he was a count). As part of his financing deal with 20th Century Fox, Visconti essentially had Lancaster imposed on him as the actor's reputation would enhance sales. The director's subsequent ill-treatment of Lancaster is well-documented, but between them, the two created a memorable character who forms the focus of an outstanding film (and their working relationship developed into one of great respect). 

Lancaster plays Don Fabrizio Salina, a proud Sicilian Prince and patriarch who, from his aloof but not unfeeling position, observes the changes taking place in Italy during the Rigorsimento. This 1860 event saw the country transformed from a loose collection of principalities into a unified nation, thanks to revolutionary leader Guiseppe Garibaldi. For Don Fabrizio, the political upheavals raise the question of what future there is for the aristocracy ("the middle classes don't want to destroy us," the sagely prince says, "just take our place"). The revolution is brought home to him intimately when his dashing nephew Tancredi (Delon) joins Garibaldi's forces. But it's later events that are more subtly radical. Aware of the threat to his family's status from the shifts in society, Don Fabrizio reluctantly condones Tancredi's relationship with Angelica (Cardinale), the daughter of Don Calogero (Stoppa), a town mayor, merchant and quintessential nouveau riche. It's the sort of union that would have been unthinkable under the old order, but as the aristocracy is in decline, it's a means of maintaining a degree of standing and wealth. "Our generation straddles two worlds and is unhappy in either," says Don Fabrizio, commenting on how an older stability was already fractured, while the new option of dealing with the bourgeoisie is distasteful. 

The Leopard is Visconti's most personal film and seems to capture the director's feelings about the era. There's a grand sadness in such images as that of Don Fabrizio's family, arriving in the town of their summer residence after a long journey, sitting in church covered in dust, like statues of nobles from a past age. The dialogue, meanwhile, captures the sense of a proud class mourning their life, even as they live it; "Our sensuality is a desire for oblivion," comments Don Fabrizio from the vantage point of grandeur and fading splendor. 

Each moment of glorious celebration in the film is underscored with a sad realisation that the time for spectacular dances and inherited power is ending. This is achieved powerfully in a scene of Tancredi and Angelica exploring the deserted rooms of a family palace, or even more notably in the sumptuous, spectacular final ball, which sees Don Fabrizio quietly observing his class' unknowing dance of death.

Verdict 
Long, certainly, but truly a masterpiece. Lancaster provides a powerful, moving core to a dramatic, beautiful film. Best experienced on a very large screen, where the majesty of the grand houses, Sicilian vistas and stately set-pieces can be fully appreciated.