MOVIE REVIEWS : FAMILY LIFE IN MAINE AND SICILY : What Happened to All the Cimino Vigor and Bravura? It’s Not in ‘The Sicilian’

In the relatively short time since his first-directed film in 1974, we have seen many facets of Michael Cimino--engaging Cimino, bold Cimino, controversial Cimino, grandiloquent Cimino. But who could ever have predicted that a director of his temperament, telling a story as potentially heady as the life of the outlaw Salvatore Giuliano, could have produced a film as fuzzy and inert as “The Sicilian” (Cineplex Odeon Century Plaza)?

Perhaps he didn’t--20 minutes or more were reportedly cut from the version that Cimino delivered. But what we have to go by--this flaccid and confusing 1 hour and 55 minutes--seems to lack almost all the Cimino vigor and bravura.

Some of the painterly composition remains, some of the great, deep focus glimpses down cobblestoned Sicilian streets; a pinky-mauve twilight sequence of redeeming beauty. Some of his actors--the massive Joss Ackland as the Mafia boss of Palermo; Richard Bauer as Giuliano’s educated, crippled mentor; Terence Stamp as the Prince whom Giuliano briefly kidnaps--have enough personal charisma to stick in the mind, crisply and memorably.

But the rest of a large and notable cast, and most lamentably, Christopher Lambert’s Giuliano, are trapped between the choppiness of the narrative and the posturing excesses of the dialogue. (The screenplay, an adaptation of Mario Puzo’s novel, is credited solely to Steve Shagan. Gore Vidal, however, claims that his script was used in the shooting of the film, and he is suing the Writers Guild, which in an arbitration earlier this year denied him credit.)

From what we can gather, in the desperate period post-World War II, the young and humbly born Giuliano, who eventually controlled a small army of dogged followers, dared to challenge the Catholic Church, innumerable Mafia dons and the Italian government, all in the name of gains for the starving peasantry. Yet these same peasants seem startlingly slow to seize his gifts to them. As Aspanu Pisciotta (John Turturro), his seemingly devoted cousin and second-in-command tells him, “You promised the people land; they didn’t want land, they wanted bread .”

Unfortunately, poised nonchalantly on a scrub-covered hillside, Lambert looks only as if he could lead the poor and wretched to Giorgio Armani. Anyone who saw Lambert in “Greystoke” or “Subway” knows he can act. Anyone who saw him only in “The Sicilian” would never believe that for a minute.

According to the press notes, since Francesco Rosi in his great 1962 neo-realist film “Salvatore Giuliano” had documented the rebel’s life so memorably, Cimino intended that his film document Giuliano’s dream. Unfortunately, those press notes have more vivid anecdotes and a clearer picture of the chronology of Giuliano’s 27 short, showy years than we ever learn from “The Sicilian.” And his dream is even less accessible.

In pursuit of his romantic notion of returning the noble families’ land to the people, Giuliano leads Robin Hood-like raids, kidnapings, ransoms and escapes. He not only demands victory, unswerving loyalty and love, but his picture on the cover of Life magazine. He appears to have gotten all four, but given the film’s tattered coherence you really can’t be sure.

Certainly he wins a red-haired, firebrand wife, Giovanna Ferra (Giulia Boschi), almost more adept at haranguing the peasantry than her husband. He wins the undivided attention of Terence Stamp’s vastly rich, spoiled “American” wife (German star Barbara Sukowa, in one of the film’s many vagaries of casting), whose jewels he commandeers for his cause. And he seems to have captivated the reigning Don, Masino Croce (Ackland) who treats him with the affection of a father for his son. But since we are never allowed behind Giuliano’s fashion-plate facade, it’s hard to know what this range of people see in him, beyond the unruffled hauteur of an Esquire model.

Although the film may be opaque, it is handsome, with certain details of the production--Wolf Kroeger’s impeccable production design, Alex Thomson’s camera work, the music of David Mansfield, the costumes of Wayne Finkelman--worth special mention. One could single out other actors too, if they only lingered long enough to make an impression, although even in his short scene, Barry Miller as the young doctor naive enough to cross Joss Ackland’s Don, seems almost luminously conscience ridden.

Throughout “The Sicilian” (MPAA-rated: R) a note appears, pinned to the shirts of those whom Giuliano considered traitors: “So die all those who betray Salvatore Giuliano.” Selecting nominees for that sorry distinction couldn’t help but be more lively than the movie itself.

‘THE SICILIAN’

A 20th Century Fox release of a Gladden Entertainment presentation of a Sidney Beckerman production. Producers Michael Cimino, Joann Carelli. Executive producer Beckerman. Director Cimino. Screenplay Steve Shagan, based on the novel by Mario Puzo. Cameraman operator Alex Thomson. Editor Francoise Bonnot. Music David Mansfield. Production design Wolf Kroeger. Art direction Stefano Ortolani. Set decorator Joseph Mifsud Chevalier. Costumes Wayne Finkelman. Sound David Crozier. Second unit camera Francis Grumman. Assistant director Brian David Crozier. With Christopher Lambert, Terence Stamp, Joss Ackland, John Turturro, Richard Bauer, Barbara Sukowa, Giulia Boschi, Barry Miller, Ray McAnally, Andreas Katsulas, Michael Wincott, Derrick Branche, Richard Venture, Ramon Bieri, Aldo Ray.

MPAA rating: R (persons under 17 must be accompanied by parent or adult guardian)

Running time: 1 hour, 55 minutes.