Mondo Cane

THE FLICKS: Attaching a quote to a box set that proudly labels Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco Prosperi “perhaps the most devious and irresponsible filmmakers who have ever lived” is bound to either pull you in or turn you off. And Blue Underground’s immense 8-disc “Mondo Cane Collection” is likely the most gorgeous love it or leave it DVD product released this year. Comprised of five films, two directors cuts and a full-length documentary, some might question the loving care that went into acquiring and restoring films that have been decried as pornographic, racist, sensationalistic, and entirely fabricated. But extreme opinions add up to interesting filmmaking. And the “Mondo” films are always that. “Mondo Cane” (1962) (translated as Dog’s World) was the first of the so-called “shockumentaries,” gathering footage from around the world of the strange, bizarre, exotic, and just plain disgusting. It set the stage for latter day imitators like “Faces of Death” and a slew of other films that borrowed the “Mondo” moniker. Jacopetti and Prosperi styled their film after classic newsreels, lending the proceedings an air of authenticity, which makes it even more difficult to spot which sequences are staged. Most of “Mondo” is frighteningly true to life and often extremely difficult to watch; pigs beaten to death in an African village, poisonous sea urchins jammed into the mouths of living sharks, geese force fed through a tube to fatten them in half the time. Animals don’t fair well in the “Mondo” films. Men, women or children don’t do much better. Yet for all the exploitation and cruelty onscreen, it’s impossible to deny the artistry behind Jacopetti and Prosperi’s work. A dying sea turtle in a graveyard of old bones captures the beautiful brutality of nature. The pathetic and tired patrons of a German beer hall are amusing and pitiful at the same time. Then there’s the countless half-naked women the camera oggles with impunity. It’s this unique combination of the ugly and the beautiful, life and death, dark and light, that makes “Mondo Cane” more than the sum of it’s parts. “Mondo Cane 2” (1964) is more of the same; and therein lies the problem. Most of the artistic inspiration is replaced with a “been-there-done-that” sense of déjà vu. Even the filmmakers acknowledge that the sequel was a rush job made up of leftover footage and a desire to cash in on the worldwide phenomena of the first film. Still, the “tour guide” format keeps things interesting and Jacopetti’s photography (full of wide angle distortions and larger-the-life faces) are worthwhile distractions in a film that is not much more than scraps of the original. “Women of the World” (1963) delivers on the title, globetrotting from location to location to present the audience with the many faces of the fairer sex. Besides the usual bare-breasted natives, the film takes us to a famous street in Germany where whores set up shop in windows (an aside we learn later: a cameraman was nearly knifed by an angry pimp getting the footage).Then moves on to more serious subjects, such as the mothers of an entire generation of children born deformed from the drug Thalidomide. Voyeuristic with moments of moral clarity, “Women of the World” is still no match for the original “Mondo.” Jacopetti and Prosperi’s true masterpiece would finally come with “Africa Addio” (1966) (Farewell Africa), an unflinching snapshot of the dark continent as it suffered through colonial independence which resulted in mass chaos, genocide and death on a monstrous scale. From the slaughter of numerous unauthorized African safaris to the equally vicious man vs. man violence, the camera is caught in the middle of a whirlwind of blood-tinged madness. Yet for all their political frankness, the filmmakers were once again put on trail to prove the legitimacy of their footage. And this time their lives were in the balance, as authorities accused them of staging murders for the camera. The situation was defused, but watching “Africa Addio” brings to the forefront the idea of journalistic objectivity present in all the “Mondo” films. When does an event become subjective? Can a filmmaker interfere? And, in the case of such life-or-death situations, should he? Jacopetti and Prosperi claim they assisted many individuals along the way as best they could. And no matter what one’s thoughts on the matter are, the film they produced is a one-of-a-kind time capsule of a continent at war with itself, clawing and scratching its way into the modern age. But the accusations of racism spun the filmmakers into a new direction with their final collaboration in 1971, “Addio Zio Tom” (Farewell, Uncle Tom), a mostly fictional recreation of the slave trade as recorded by imaginary journalists in the South. Designed as a social commentary on the past, present and future of African Americans, the film’s altruistic goals are by no means the main selling point. There is still plenty of sex, violence and debauchery, only this time it’s fictionalized. Although it does make some powerful statements most artists would be too timid to make, “Addio Zio Tom” carries too much of the exploitation baggage of the “Mondo” films to be taken seriously. Jacopetti’s camera is like a magnet for controversial images, and the film is best viewed as an extension of the sideshow films that came before it. The final film of the set is a new documentary by David Gregory, “The Godfathers of Mondo.” Made up of interviews with the two filmmakers, who no longer speak or work together, the full-length retrospective presents the Mondo experience through their eyes. Dangerous working conditions (Jacopetti was put before a firing squad in Africa), artistic justifications (Prosperi is at peace with himself enough to have trophies of the animals slaughtered in the film), and impact of their work (they both de-cry the Mondo knock-offs, although they sold footage to many of them) are all discussed. As fulfilling as the piece is (indeed, the story behind the films are as entertaining as the films themselves), one might have hoped for more objectivity from director David Gregory. A third-person explanation of the impact and controversy of the Mondo films seems lacking. There are a few outside interviews, but not enough to offset the narrow point-of-view. A quibble and small complaint for what is on the whole a fascinating study of the filmmaking experience. THE FEATURES: First and foremost, one should note the rarity of these films and the spectacular presentation Blue Underground has provided. “Africa Addio” and “Addio Zio Tom” come in both English editions and director’s cuts, reassembled for the first time with new material. But every disc in the set looks answer-print-fresh! The original “Mondo Cane” includes theatrical trailers, TV spots, poster and still galleries, lobby promotions, location stills, and a history of early Mondo-type films. “Mondo Cane 2” and “Women of the World” are also tagged with extras and stills. “Africa Addio” adds the original U.S. Press Book on DVD-ROM, while “Addio Zio Tom” piles on some extra behind-the-scenes 8mm footage with audio commentary. FINAL SCORES: “The Mondo Cane Collection” claims to show us the world as we’ve never seen it before. And even though the claim was made some 40 years ago, it’s still one hell of a ride. Whether you view these films with shock, horror, laughter or tears, there’s no denying they will affect you. With a limited pressing of only 10,000 units, Blue Underground’s box set is bound to become a scarce commodity and treasured possession in many a DVD collection.