Valeria Golino was 18 years old when she filmed Italian director Francesco Maselli’s “Storia d’amore,” the movie that would make her an international star. She earned the Best Actress prize in Venice, and went on to be cast in such major Hollywood releases as “Rain Man,” “Big Top Pee-Wee,” “Hot Shots!”, “Leaving Las Vegas” and “Escape from L.A.” Yet it was her dialect coach on “Storia d’amore”—Maselli’s ex-wife, Goliarda Sapienza—who would produce the source material for Golino’s most accomplished work to date as a director. Sapienza was an actress in a handful of pictures, but she became best known for her posthumously published novel, The Art of Joy, about an impoverished young woman, Modesta, who is determined to overcome every barrier of oppression in her path, even if it means snuffing out a few lives in the process.
Prior to yesterday’s screening of Golino’s miniseries, which adapts Sapienza’s masterwork into an exhilarating screen epic shown in two parts as part of the Chicago International Film Festival, I had the privilege of interviewing the iconic performer and filmmaker for Cinema Femme about the author’s uncommon boldness, the splendor of her leading lady and her role in one of my all-time favorite films.
What were your initial impressions of Goliarda Sapienza upon meeting her?
Even though she was 55 and I was only 18, we had a very, very lovely connection, and I have only affectionate memories of her. The only thing is, now, I regret the fact that I was so young that I didn’t know at the time exactly who I had in front of me. I knew her as a lady who was very nice to me and taught me things. I could see that she was extremely sharp and very free in her way of thinking, but I was not curious enough myself, being so young, about understanding her better. After we finished working together, I saw her a couple of times over the years, but now that I have worked on adapting her book for so long, I think, “If only I could’ve just kept the friendship going,” because she was a very special human being.
The book is enormously timely in how it shrewdly tackles the many layers of oppression faced by women, and in the case of Modesta, fought through in audacious ways.
I am a big reader in the sense that I love reading. I didn’t like studying in school, I was not a good student, but I’ve always enjoyed reading literature. So I was very shocked when I read Goliarda’s book for the first time, about twenty years ago, not because I had met her, but because the book was so different from anything I had ever read—so disobedient and so naturally rebellious without trying to be provocative. When it came to the heroine of the book, Modesta, I had never read anything like that written about a woman. I had read things like that written about a man, but never about a woman. It is a unique situation that we have here, not only in Italian literature, but everywhere. There are incredible books about women written by incredible writers—books that I adore—but never a character like that because she is free of a sense of guilt. She doesn’t have guilt in her, so she is able to do very amoral things, which is a very non-female characteristic. So I was extremely shocked and perturbed by that.
Also, the book is so sexual, not in a normal, conventional way, but in a very different way. Her character is pansexual, but she never defines herself as such. She just is, and has no need for labels or any desire to provoke people. She loves men, she loves women, she loves trees and animals. “The Art of Joy” is about how achieving your desire and joy is the augmentation of your potential. Spinoza, the great philosopher, talks about how being able to feel joy causes one to feel more potently. I thought the book’s stratifications of symbols were extremely interesting, and I hope “The Art of Joy” will find an audience in America. It is being shown at the festival as a movie in two parts, but I had conceived of it as a TV series. Nothing was cut when it was turned into a film. If I wanted to have made a movie, I would’ve done it differently. I’d love for the show to be released on a streaming service in the U.S., because it is receiving a lot of good feedback in Europe.
It’s a testament to your skill as a storyteller and your phenomenal lead actress, Tecla Insolia, that watching all 320 minutes of the show yesterday to prepare for this interview never felt like a chore. It was riveting from beginning to end.
Tecla is like a gift for me. I found her and she found me. She was 18 years old when she did the movie, and her performance is not just a result of raw talent. Because I was 18 when I was an actress, and I had raw talent, believe me. Back then, I had the power of youth and also, I was broken. I imagined myself how I would’ve done this role when I was 18, and I would’ve been different than her. I never could’ve had the technique that this girl has. She has a precise technique worthy of London’s Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, and I never had that. I still don’t. She’s just a freak! [laughs] She’s like the character of Modesta. She’s amazing—so passionate, so beautiful and so different. She’s not beautiful in a way that follows the rules of what beauty is today. She has a big nose and huge eyes and she doesn’t have a big mouth. She is beautiful because she is beautiful, not because she conforms to what is expected of her. She really is a creature of cinema.
You’ve also worked with Jasmine Trinca on your previous directorial features, and here as the nun, Leonora, she reminded me of Ingrid Bergman in “The Bells of St. Mary’s,” in how her sensuality naturally seeps through even as she struggles to suppress it.
That’s why I chose her! In the beginning, we don’t know why there’s this gorgeous young woman who is also the head of the nuns in this convent. So you may initially think, “Hm, Jasmine is miscast,” until you eventually find out about her backstory. I chose Jasmine because she has this sensuality and danger in her. Leonora is a dangerous creature, somebody that the little girl could worship, and at the same time, she has an authority. Jasmine is my muse, in a way, and she’s like my alter ego, too. I make her do things that I can’t do in my movies. She can do them for me. I love working with her.
You were also in one of my wife and my all-time favorite films, Céline Sciamma’s “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”
Céline is a genius. I say it with a little bit of envy, acknowledging that she’s better than me, but she’s only a director and writer. I act too, so I have less time to be as good as she is. She’s like pure talent, and is one of the most intelligent women I’ve ever met. She was a friend before we worked together, and is one of those people like Pablo Larraín whom you want to be connected with. Pablo called me and asked if I wanted to do one scene in his new movie, “Maria,” and I said, “Of course!” I didn’t even want to do the role in Céline’s film because it made me feel sad. There is a such a sadness in the character of the mother in “Portrait of a Lady on Fire,” and I told Céline, “There are a lot of other people who could do this role. Why me?” But she insisted, “I can’t think of anyone else for the role, and that sadness that you’re feeling is what I want you to bring into it.”
And yet, there’s that wonderful moment where she gets to laugh.
Yes! I loved that.
Valeria Golino will be in attendance for tonight’s Chicago International Film Festival screening of Pablo Larraín’s “Maria” at 6:30pm at the Music Box Theatre. For tickets, click here.
