A rich woman, Raffaella, and some friends rent a yacht to sail the Mediterranean Sea during summer. The sailor, Gennarino, who is a communist, does not like this woman but has to bear with her bad mood. One day she wakes up late in the afternoon and asks to be taken to land where everyone had gone earlier. Gennarino sets up a boat but during the trip, the boat breaks down. They spend the night in the middle of the sea
Not the blamed notorious 2002 Guy Ritchie-Madonna remake, this is Lina Wertmüller’s original masterpiece, a tactfully veiled feminist treatment that removes the class barrier by marooning a snooty capitalist socialite Raffaella (Melato) and a plebeian Communist deckhand Gennarino (Gianninni), together in an uninhabited island in the middle point, and what ensues is a taming-the-shrew sex romp, that lives and dies with the island itself.
Doesn’t see eye to eye with each other prima facie, the pair wears their heart on their sleeves with a mutual despite that feels both comical and vitriolic, and Wertmüller perceptively demands Raffaella to make a meal of her airs of superiority that naturally elicits our sympathy towards the downtrodden Gennarino, piteously cussing underhandedly with a puppy-eyed scruffiness, even when the duo is left drifting afloat in a dinghy on the Mediterranean Sea (nigh Sardinian Eastern coast), the unseaworthy Raffaella has nothing else to do but whinges about Gennarino’s inadequacy.
Once they are shipwrecked in an island, Raffaella’s peccadillo comes home to roost when their roles are inevitably reversed, totally at the mercy of Gennarino’s survival skill in the nature, she has to endure numerous slaps and a rape attempt before completely submitting herself as a slave at the beck and call of her master, the almighty, proletariat Gennarino, who is confident enough that his virile masculinity can not only subjugate the vain, bourgeoise dame he finds attractive, but also make her fall in love with him (as there is no other competitions in sight), and ostensibly, that is what happens afterward, at that point, our sympathy is miraculously veered toward a docile and besotted Raffaella, a reborn woman, isn’t she?
It is facile to accuse Wertmüller of being misogynist merely on the grounds that she subjects Raffaella repeatedly to physical abuse in the hand of Gennarino, she is astute enough to wield a Teflon shield not just because she is a woman herself, thus the violence can be viewed as a self-reflexive conceit to reflect the horrible reality, but more intricately, to point up the weaker sex’s powerless physical plight is her ingenious approach to counterpoint a woman’s staggering resilience, both physically and mentally, to the point that, Gennarino, as a macho man overtly boasting his dominant nature, has no rival to overpower her in the long run on the intellectual level, because he can never see her through if he cannot treat her as an equal (if not superior). Felt both smitten and suspect by her affection, Gennarino’s fatal mistake is that he is tricked into believing Raffaella’s oscillation, thinks that he has a chance of winning that kind of true love a man could ever covet.
Therefore when they return to the civilization, instantly the upper hand is returned to the rich party, and Wertmüller brilliantly enfolds Raffaella with an even more ambiguous halo, lachrymose and lovey-dovey during the telephone scene with Gennarino, yet, it is clear as day to audience that she will never return to that God-forsaken place of her own accord, the table has been turned and she wins, but instead of strutting in front of the vanquished (as usually a man inclines to do), being a sophisticated woman, she quickly learns from her mistakes and knows a really visceral revenge is to make the vanquished perpetually guessing, fancying, and ever longing for that pipe dream, which is exactly what happens in the end, a woebegone Gennarino is again, returns to his normal life of a loveless marriage, rues the day that he was once a king bestowed with a perfect consort.
Even most of the time there are only two main characters, an Italian film can still be persistently boisterous with flying vituperation and expletives intermittently assaulting our aural sensory to the four winds, both Mariangela Melato and Giancarlo Giannini are the crèmes de la crème, tearing into the battle-of-sexes with mind-boggling conviction, incredible physical facility and top-notch comic timing, and their raucous interplay can go from high skylarking to searing drama on a moment’s notice, moreover, their distinctive personae substantially offset many unsavory traits in their characters, and altogether burnishes Wertmüller’s eloquent allegory that nails the essence of stereotyped gender roles, class disparity and human beings’ most primeval instinct. Intriguingly, the protagonist of most films and books about a sole survivor in the nature is man, which might obliquely certify that man is more of a nature animal whereas woman is a social one, ergo, it is fairly clear who occupies a higher standing in the evolution tree.
referential entries: Wertmüller’s LOVE AND ANARCHY (1973, 8.2/10); SEVEN BEAUTIES (1975, 8.5/10).
Not the blamed notorious 2002 Guy Ritchie-Madonna remake, this is Lina Wertmüller’s original masterpiece, a tactfully veiled feminist treatment that removes the class barrier by marooning a snooty capitalist socialite Raffaella (Melato) and a plebeian Communist deckhand Gennarino (Gianninni), together in an uninhabited island in the middle point, and what ensues is a taming-the-shrew sex romp, that lives and dies with the island itself.
Doesn’t see eye to eye with each other prima facie, the pair wears their heart on their sleeves with a mutual despite that feels both comical and vitriolic, and Wertmüller perceptively demands Raffaella to make a meal of her airs of superiority that naturally elicits our sympathy towards the downtrodden Gennarino, piteously cussing underhandedly with a puppy-eyed scruffiness, even when the duo is left drifting afloat in a dinghy on the Mediterranean Sea (nigh Sardinian Eastern coast), the unseaworthy Raffaella has nothing else to do but whinges about Gennarino’s inadequacy.
Once they are shipwrecked in an island, Raffaella’s peccadillo comes home to roost when their roles are inevitably reversed, totally at the mercy of Gennarino’s survival skill in the nature, she has to endure numerous slaps and a rape attempt before completely submitting herself as a slave at the beck and call of her master, the almighty, proletariat Gennarino, who is confident enough that his virile masculinity can not only subjugate the vain, bourgeoise dame he finds attractive, but also make her fall in love with him (as there is no other competitions in sight), and ostensibly, that is what happens afterward, at that point, our sympathy is miraculously veered toward a docile and besotted Raffaella, a reborn woman, isn’t she?
It is facile to accuse Wertmüller of being misogynist merely on the grounds that she subjects Raffaella repeatedly to physical abuse in the hand of Gennarino, she is astute enough to wield a Teflon shield not just because she is a woman herself, thus the violence can be viewed as a self-reflexive conceit to reflect the horrible reality, but more intricately, to point up the weaker sex’s powerless physical plight is her ingenious approach to counterpoint a woman’s staggering resilience, both physically and mentally, to the point that, Gennarino, as a macho man overtly boasting his dominant nature, has no rival to overpower her in the long run on the intellectual level, because he can never see her through if he cannot treat her as an equal (if not superior). Felt both smitten and suspect by her affection, Gennarino’s fatal mistake is that he is tricked into believing Raffaella’s oscillation, thinks that he has a chance of winning that kind of true love a man could ever covet.
Therefore when they return to the civilization, instantly the upper hand is returned to the rich party, and Wertmüller brilliantly enfolds Raffaella with an even more ambiguous halo, lachrymose and lovey-dovey during the telephone scene with Gennarino, yet, it is clear as day to audience that she will never return to that God-forsaken place of her own accord, the table has been turned and she wins, but instead of strutting in front of the vanquished (as usually a man inclines to do), being a sophisticated woman, she quickly learns from her mistakes and knows a really visceral revenge is to make the vanquished perpetually guessing, fancying, and ever longing for that pipe dream, which is exactly what happens in the end, a woebegone Gennarino is again, returns to his normal life of a loveless marriage, rues the day that he was once a king bestowed with a perfect consort.
Even most of the time there are only two main characters, an Italian film can still be persistently boisterous with flying vituperation and expletives intermittently assaulting our aural sensory to the four winds, both Mariangela Melato and Giancarlo Giannini are the crèmes de la crème, tearing into the battle-of-sexes with mind-boggling conviction, incredible physical facility and top-notch comic timing, and their raucous interplay can go from high skylarking to searing drama on a moment’s notice, moreover, their distinctive personae substantially offset many unsavory traits in their characters, and altogether burnishes Wertmüller’s eloquent allegory that nails the essence of stereotyped gender roles, class disparity and human beings’ most primeval instinct. Intriguingly, the protagonist of most films and books about a sole survivor in the nature is man, which might obliquely certify that man is more of a nature animal whereas woman is a social one, ergo, it is fairly clear who occupies a higher standing in the evolution tree.
referential entries: Wertmüller’s LOVE AND ANARCHY (1973, 8.2/10); SEVEN BEAUTIES (1975, 8.5/10).
想起了纳丁 戈迪默的小说，底层阶级的男人以能够睡到上层阶级女人为快，渴望上层女人、轻看自己的老婆，借由进入女人的身体而进入另一个得不到的世界。
片中胡渣男将金发女压在下面的时候不断地问她和其他男人是怎样ML的，ML的时候会说些什么……女人只是哼哼，不回答。隐私、秘密，是上层阶级的玩意儿，但是，只有当有人想要知道那些隐秘的事情时，隐私才成其为隐私。在这个意义上，对于上层隐私的存在，底层是共谋。用金钱划出与底层领域的生活圈子，又向底层人们略微敞出一角，以供窥视和模仿，制造出优越性区格。胡渣男的老婆订了旅馆，要与他像有钱人那样在露天阳台上吃饭，便是一例。
这样看来，隐私是上层人玩的；倘若尊严的一部分是建立在对隐私的觉悟上，那么尊严又是一桩需要用钱来买的事情。
如果导演能够不那么直接和直白，而是把精力集中在此男对此女的渴望和不可得，也许会更好看。
一个专横跋扈、充满上等人优越感的女人，不停地快速的絮絮叨叨；一个粗鲁暴躁、仇恨夫人的海员，低声嘟嘟囔囔用自己的方式默默反抗。一开篇，我就被影片吸引住了......这首先一定是一部有趣的片子。
命运让他们的小船失事，孤男寡女地流落到荒无人烟的小岛上，那时候，力量的天平向另一方倾斜了。“肮脏萎缩的南方佬”吉纳里诺海员成了“主人”卡伦奇奥先生，他要求资产阶级太太为他洗内裤来换取食物，野蛮强制他吻他的手，甚至让她脱光衣服服伺他......当两个人扭打着从山坡滚下，女人毕竟不是对手，被“南方佬”连续地掌掴，每一次似乎都是极有理由的：
“你必须为我生活正所有的不公平负责任”，
“你必须为一切付出代价”，
“这是为了我们陷入的艰难时世”，
“这是为了逃税而把钱带去瑞士”，
“这是为了那些不能去医院的可怜的病人”，
“这是为了肉类和奶酪，公交车票，销售税和汽油的高价格”，
“这是为了油价和养老金税的上涨，还有电视许可证”，
“这是为了增值税、附加税还有所得税”，
“这是为了每次听到门铃我们收到的恐吓”......
我似乎听到的全部都是阶级的仇恨，底层阶级对剥削阶级的控诉，真的是这样吗？其实这些都是幌子，吉纳里诺，不，是卡伦奇奥先生心里充满的是男人对女人的征服欲望。他曾经因为贵妇人夜晚在船舱赌博喝酒，而她的丈夫回房睡觉那件事愤愤不平，在他一个男人的观念里，是应该女人回房睡觉，男人赌博喝酒、彻夜不归的。现在到了这个荒岛上，他自然要想办法把事情颠倒过来，他要用力量征服女人，让他成为爱的奴隶。贵妇最后恨恨地吻了他的手，（我觉得应该咬他才对）说实话，这一段让我极不舒服。
可是高高在上的女人真的被征服了，为了生存下来被男性的力量征服了。那时候的女人是整部影片中最美丽的，她身上的阶级优越感一扫而光，她成了一个纯粹的女人，对着大海，面对自己的内心。一只小野兔出现了，那么可爱的小野兔，激起了她的同情心，她哭着为它求情“我同情那只野兔，你真残忍”，可是最终小兔子还是难逃被杀被烤的命运，女人也难逃被征服的命运，她心甘情愿地吻男人的脚，把他融化在她的爱里。
我不知道这部片子有没有被归类为“情爱电影”,在影片的最后1/3段落，有比较大胆裸露的镜头。让我比较受不了的是吉纳里诺可以一边享受身体的泄欲，一边咒骂给与他欢愉的女人：
“你对你纳呆了绿帽子的丈夫也说过这种话吗？”
“你们这些有钱人在床上说什么?”
“你们怎么做爱？”
“告诉我，娼妇，你有放荡行为吗？”
“你做下流的事情吗？你讲脏话骂？”
“用这张天使般的面孔，向白雪一样纯洁，你背叛了你那个傻瓜丈夫多少次了？”
每一句质疑都透出他对自己的不自信，每一句都带着他阶级的烙印。
女人忍不住了：“谁说有钱女人就自然会是娼妇了？共产党吗？”这下子激怒了男人，立刻赏了她一个嘴巴：“不准再用这种贬损的语气谈论政党！政党是神圣的，而你是亵渎的，我要操你！”
真是让我觉得恶心，难道不是他自己时时刻刻想着政治，难道不是他自己先用变损的语气折磨女人？难道不是他自己“卡伦奇奥先生”难以摆脱“吉纳里诺”的阴影？男人的爱情其实就是征服和情欲......
可是他的内心感受呢？他到底有没有爱情呢？
当他们几乎合二为一互相融入的时候，有救命的船开过小岛，女人的第一反应是要“藏起来”，他们的爱本来只能在荒岛建立维持，可是男人要的是爱的“证据”。他那么的自信。他拿着女人丈夫给与的一百万里拉为女人买了离婚的戒指，去一条小渔船上等待女人的回归......可是“这个世界是以一种残忍的方式建立的”，他们的爱只能活在各自的心里。
“我永远也不要和整个女性种类有任何联系”，吉纳里诺永远也不想回家了，他坐在码头边，低垂着头，我想那个时候他才真正看到自己内心的爱，没有阶级的爱，也许已经太迟了。
影片的意文原名很长 —— Travolti da un insolito destino nell'azzurro mare d'agosto，讲的是“八月被大海遗弃在荒岛”的故事，中文名“踩过界”似乎更直指内涵。男女主角的眼睛都是灰色的，如果男主角把胡子剃了，他们在外形上是很般配的。