A screen debut for Mario Merola, the king of the Neapolitan sceneggiata
A sublimely powerful drama about a man caught in the vice of organised criminality
A big screen debut for singer Mario Merola, the king of the sceneggiata, a heart-wrenching Neapolitan musical melodramatic genre. Ettore Maria Fizzarotti directs (it will be his last film), in what appears to be an inevitable choice given that he was the director who, more than anyone else, codified the Italian musicarello in his films starring Gianni Morandi, Al Bano and other varied singing stars. However, Sgarro alla camorra has very little in common with the light-heartedness of the musicarello, or indeed with the films of Nino D’Angelo, another star of Neapolitan music who perfected another form of cinematic light entertainment. Mario Merola is on a planet all of his own, as he will demonstrate with a succession of highly successful films (Zappatore, I figli… so’ pezzi ‘e core, to cite just a few). The sublime power of popular drama is evident in every fibre of his person. He is not interesting in sugar-coating reality and does not hesitate in tackling complicated themes, including the organised criminality of the Camorra. And to make his powerful and vibrant voice be heard amidst gunshots and the swishing of knives. Many have imitated him, but no one has ever come close to matching him.
After spending seven years in prison because of an underworld crime boss, Andrea fixes up an old fishing boat and tries his hand at a new life. However, the Camorra soon get back in touch: if he wants to be left in peace, he will have to do a few “little jobs”. In reality, Andrea is an inconvenient witness to have hanging around, and the boss wants to get rid of him.
A screen debut for Mario Merola, the king of the Neapolitan sceneggiata
A sublimely powerful drama about a man caught in the vice of organised criminality
A big screen debut for singer Mario Merola, the king of the sceneggiata, a heart-wrenching Neapolitan musical melodramatic genre. Ettore Maria Fizzarotti directs (it will be his last film), in what appears to be an inevitable choice given that he was the director who, more than anyone else, codified the Italian musicarello in his films starring Gianni Morandi, Al Bano and other varied singing stars. However, Sgarro alla camorra has very little in common with the light-heartedness of the musicarello, or indeed with the films of Nino D’Angelo, another star of Neapolitan music who perfected another form of cinematic light entertainment. Mario Merola is on a planet all of his own, as he will demonstrate with a succession of highly successful films (Zappatore, I figli… so’ pezzi ‘e core, to cite just a few). The sublime power of popular drama is evident in every fibre of his person. He is not interesting in sugar-coating reality and does not hesitate in tackling complicated themes, including the organised criminality of the Camorra. And to make his powerful and vibrant voice be heard amidst gunshots and the swishing of knives. Many have imitated him, but no one has ever come close to matching him.
After spending seven years in prison because of an underworld crime boss, Andrea fixes up an old fishing boat and tries his hand at a new life. However, the Camorra soon get back in touch: if he wants to be left in peace, he will have to do a few “little jobs”. In reality, Andrea is an inconvenient witness to have hanging around, and the boss wants to get rid of him.
