the assassin
In the films of Elio Petri, not all crimes are created equal. In fact, the director often argues that murder is less despicable than a general lack of ethics and morality. It's a socio-political theme that began almost fully-formed with his debut feature, The Assassin (1961), a clever character study disguised as a police procedural starring Marcello Mastroianni as an unscrupulous antiques dealer accused of killing his older, wealthy lover.
Brought in for questioning, Alfredo Martelli (Mastroianni) is confronted with the rather serious fact that he was the last person to see Adalgisa De Matteis alive. And as the history behind their relationship is revealed - Martelli seduced her away from a close friend and counted on her for financial support - the chief investigator, Palumbo (Salvo Randone) becomes less and less sympathetic to Alfredo's pleas of innocence.
As does the audience.
Petri uses a series of flashbacks prompted by each new bit of evidence, scenes which cast Martelli in a brutally negative light. From cheating his friend and competitors and lying to his dear old mother, Alfredo's own conscience soon begins to crack under the strain. But so far, all attempts to prompt a confession have failed. Is Martelli really innocent or too clever to admit the truth...even to himself?
The Assassin is less stylish than Petri's later films, but beautifully rich in content.
Director and star should both share full credit for creating such a despicably well-rounded character. Martelli is handsome, charming and morally vacuous, yet not enough that he can't function in society. In fact, that seems to be Petri's point: that post-war Italy has produced a generation of self-centered egoists who succeed because of their personality flaws, not in spite of them.
But even without the benefit of a background in Italian history, The Assassin can be enjoyed as a masterful debut film, with each narrative piece of the puzzle revealing a bit more of the whole man underneath. Arrow Films' new blu-ray presents a restored 2K transfer (the details of which show up before the opening credits) along with a short video essay by Italian cinema expert Pasquale Iannone and an hour-long documentary about screenwriter Tonino Guerra. First pressings only contain a booklet with new writing on the film plus some of Petri's own thoughts on the state of 1950's Italian cinema.
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