As my German grandmother is fond of saying, "mit Arbeit versaut man sich das halbe Leben," which translates to "through work you ruin half your life". In Ermanno Olmi's masterpiece Il Posto, work is portrayed as a prison, an obstacle to romantic love or a disruption of the natural rhythm of life. To secure a job in a corporation for the rest of your life, then, is a life sentence. And yet the young man Domenico, with the encouragement of his parents, earnestly endeavours, even desires, to obtain such a job, to be wrested from the comfort of his childish existence and to enter into a wholly unfamiliar world.
The director depicts the violence of the transition from childhood to adulthood and from simple small town life to the organized chaos of the city with great subtlety. His use of non-professional actors adds to the film's realism: Sandro Panseri effortlessly channels Domenico's discomfort and awkwardness owing to his unfamiliar surroundings and new experiences because starring in a film for the first time must have had the same effect on the actor. The attraction between Domenico and Antonietta feels genuine as does the intimacy of their interactions. A scene in which Domenico unsuccessfully attempts to suppress a smile upon seeing Antonietta is particularly memorable and affecting.
The outstanding sound design and cinematography reinforce the themes of the film without attracting unwarranted attention. The obtrusive cacophony of incessant traffic and construction reflects and enhances the anxiety of Domenico and Antonietta but also grants them the anonymity through which they can develop their attraction to each other. By way of contrast, the monastic silence of the office represents the stultification of youthful energy and personal expression. The director uses long shots to convey the isolation and vulnerability of Domenico. Hand-held shots give the viewer the feeling of being in the midst of a throng of people. The black and white photography is starkly beautiful.
Although Olmi's vision of modern life is bleak, he enlivens the film with humour. In one scene Domenico's father, a reluctant participant in a ploy to allow his son to go out one night, pretends to retire for the night only to reemerge from his bedroom seconds later shaking his head. The workers at the corporation appear to be employed for no other reason than to pass the time as they sit in their desks. One rolls a cigarette unhurriedly, another cleans out a drawer in his desk, and a third works on a manuscript for a novel, all in plain view of their supervisor. The perspective of the film shifts here to portray the lives of the workers individually inside of their own homes. Their lack of agency at work is mirrored at home where they have to endure vexatious landlords because they do not earn enough to purchase a property.
By the end of the film, it becomes clear that the achievement of obtaining a job for life is at best bittersweet, an escape from a miserable life of penury at the expense of happiness and fulfillment. Notwithstanding that one might be nostalgic for an era where permanent, lifelong positions were abundant, Il Posto resonates with the viewer of today, inasmuch as capitalism and alienated labour, along with their attendant harms, remain as prevalent as ever.
The director depicts the violence of the transition from childhood to adulthood and from simple small town life to the organized chaos of the city with great subtlety. His use of non-professional actors adds to the film's realism: Sandro Panseri effortlessly channels Domenico's discomfort and awkwardness owing to his unfamiliar surroundings and new experiences because starring in a film for the first time must have had the same effect on the actor. The attraction between Domenico and Antonietta feels genuine as does the intimacy of their interactions. A scene in which Domenico unsuccessfully attempts to suppress a smile upon seeing Antonietta is particularly memorable and affecting.
The outstanding sound design and cinematography reinforce the themes of the film without attracting unwarranted attention. The obtrusive cacophony of incessant traffic and construction reflects and enhances the anxiety of Domenico and Antonietta but also grants them the anonymity through which they can develop their attraction to each other. By way of contrast, the monastic silence of the office represents the stultification of youthful energy and personal expression. The director uses long shots to convey the isolation and vulnerability of Domenico. Hand-held shots give the viewer the feeling of being in the midst of a throng of people. The black and white photography is starkly beautiful.
Although Olmi's vision of modern life is bleak, he enlivens the film with humour. In one scene Domenico's father, a reluctant participant in a ploy to allow his son to go out one night, pretends to retire for the night only to reemerge from his bedroom seconds later shaking his head. The workers at the corporation appear to be employed for no other reason than to pass the time as they sit in their desks. One rolls a cigarette unhurriedly, another cleans out a drawer in his desk, and a third works on a manuscript for a novel, all in plain view of their supervisor. The perspective of the film shifts here to portray the lives of the workers individually inside of their own homes. Their lack of agency at work is mirrored at home where they have to endure vexatious landlords because they do not earn enough to purchase a property.
By the end of the film, it becomes clear that the achievement of obtaining a job for life is at best bittersweet, an escape from a miserable life of penury at the expense of happiness and fulfillment. Notwithstanding that one might be nostalgic for an era where permanent, lifelong positions were abundant, Il Posto resonates with the viewer of today, inasmuch as capitalism and alienated labour, along with their attendant harms, remain as prevalent as ever.