Rediscover is a series of reviews highlighting past releases that have flown under the radar and now deserve a second look.
By the time he reached 70 years old, one would think Michelangelo Antonioni, who created masterpieces such as L’avventura (1960), L’eclisse (1962) and Blow-Up (1966), would have little left to say. We also need to take into consideration that it is 1982, decades removed from the ’50s and ‘60s tramping ground where modernist cinema burst through Europe. Although Antonioni would die much later at the age of 94 in 2007, 1982 and Identification of a Woman was in fact the last time he made a feature length film on his own.
Though never reaching the same heights as his masterpieces, Identification of a Woman still possesses the hallmarks of the director’s earlier works. Filmed by a man who knows that the world is moving on without him, Identification is a solipsism set amongst the garish trappings of an Italy lost in the soullessness of the ‘80s. But while the film’s protagonist searches for meaning through women, perhaps Antonioni is searching for the relevance of his own cinematic voice in a milieu much different than the ‘50s and ‘60s that spawned him and his contemporaries.
It is telling that Antonioni chooses to make his protagonist a filmmaker. Niccolò Farra (Tomás Milián) is a middle-aged director who is trapped in a post-divorce malaise. Creatively blocked, Farra believes that finding the right woman to stand in front of his camera and share his bed is the missing ingredient to stop whatever emotional paperweight that is keeping him down. Over the course of the film, Niccolò will become involved with two very different women, neither of whom completely satisfies his yearning.
Each of these women typify a trope more than a breathing character. Mavi (Daniela Silverio) is an attractive socialite, an oversexed nymph who will leave Niccolò as their affair grows more intense. Mavi represents Antonioni’s idea of modern womanhood. She is bisexual, adventurous in bed and a complete narcissist, evidenced in a frank scene where she watches herself achieve climax in a mirror while Niccolò finger fucks her from behind. For Niccolò, Mavi is elusive, her complicated life continually serving as an interruption to their affair, no more so than the repeated threats Niccolò receives from a shadowy hood to stay away from her. Antonioni, however, takes the menace out of these warnings, going so far as filming one of them in an ice cream parlor.
Once Mavi is out of the picture, Niccolò takes up with actress Ida (Christine Boisson), the embodiment of virtue and naked honesty. Although Niccolò and Ida do have a sex life, Antonioni films none of their wrangling. While Mavi spends much of her screen time nude (or fucking Niccolò), Antonioni depicts Ida’s nudity with modesty. We see her breasts only partially covered. But Ida is not a throwback to female austerity and is quite liberated herself. She is much more sure of herself than Mavi, but refuses to give Niccolò the thrill of the chase, making him quickly lose interest.
Like other Antonioni films, Identification of a Woman relies more on atmosphere than linear plot. There are flashbacks without warning, many of the subplots are left unresolved and characters come and go without introduction. But one thing is certain: Niccolò is not only out of step with the attitudes of his ladies, but with the times themselves. The film opens as the director cannot figure out how to turn off the security system at his apartment and resorts to crawling on his hands and knees to avoid triggering it. Niccolò is just as inept around women. He just cannot figure out how to be part of a couple.
Identification of a Woman is home to one of the most beautiful scenes of Antonioni’s career. Niccolò and Ida visit Venice and take a boat out onto one of the lagoons. It is a tranquil moment where sea and the sky are one and the two lovers simply drift. Nothing else exists except them. Antonioni echoes this scene in the movie’s final moments. Niccolò gives up finding his muse and decides to make a science fiction film about an asteroid that has become a spaceship. He closes his eyes and imagines the ship floating towards the sun, space mirroring the water in the lagoon. The spaceship represents an escape for Niccolò, a way to leave behind not only the confounding nature of women, but the entire planet, one that has gone completely insane and no longer favors the mores and attitudes of his (and Antonioni’s) past. It is both a confounding and mysterious way to end a film. In some ways, Niccolò finds his women even more inexplicable.
