This was the first film in which the Italian comic Erminio Macario (known generally as "Macario") in which the performer had a feature role. Here he plays a bumbling nincompoop, a denizen of sundry flophouses and cheap boarding houses like the Chaplin tramp in so many of his movies.
Among his bouts with employment we see him as an inept lifeguard...who offers water to a nearly drowned woman and a traveling chocolates- salesman who becomes a street magician to hype the products.
His peripatetic adventures bring him to farm country (the "country air" of the title.) He engages in a bit of romancing with a pretty girl (Laura Adani)and and on a boat ride with her sings her a delightfully wacky song with lyrics about polenta and rosemary. Ultimately, his temporary sweetheart gone back to the city, Macario follows the train and walks the tracks as it disappears, forlorn. In the final shots we see him seeking solace and comfort in cuddling his dog like the Chaplin of "A Dog's Life." It's all aimless, pleasant nonsense, with Macario assuming the Chaplin persona, down to the bowler hat, tight frock, and wobbly gait. He is surely no Chaplin, but the bumbling muttering naiveté of the personality he creates does have a bit of charm, nevertheless.
During the course of a long career in the Italian cinema, Macario would perhaps rank second in popular appeal to the greater and more legendary Totò.
At one hour in length it's easy to take this little oddity, especially since one doesn't easily see many films from the sparse early sound era in Italy. Eugenio De Liguoro provided the functional direction. There is some nice photography, especially in the rural scenes, by Ferdinando Martini.
Among his bouts with employment we see him as an inept lifeguard...who offers water to a nearly drowned woman and a traveling chocolates- salesman who becomes a street magician to hype the products.
His peripatetic adventures bring him to farm country (the "country air" of the title.) He engages in a bit of romancing with a pretty girl (Laura Adani)and and on a boat ride with her sings her a delightfully wacky song with lyrics about polenta and rosemary. Ultimately, his temporary sweetheart gone back to the city, Macario follows the train and walks the tracks as it disappears, forlorn. In the final shots we see him seeking solace and comfort in cuddling his dog like the Chaplin of "A Dog's Life." It's all aimless, pleasant nonsense, with Macario assuming the Chaplin persona, down to the bowler hat, tight frock, and wobbly gait. He is surely no Chaplin, but the bumbling muttering naiveté of the personality he creates does have a bit of charm, nevertheless.
During the course of a long career in the Italian cinema, Macario would perhaps rank second in popular appeal to the greater and more legendary Totò.
At one hour in length it's easy to take this little oddity, especially since one doesn't easily see many films from the sparse early sound era in Italy. Eugenio De Liguoro provided the functional direction. There is some nice photography, especially in the rural scenes, by Ferdinando Martini.
