While not as instantly recognizable as compatriots Fellini, De Sica, Visconti, or Antonioni, director Mario Monicelli was nonetheless influential, considered one of the masters of the Commedia all’Italiana (Comedy Italian style), helmed more than sixty films in a career that spanned over six decades. In 1963, Monicelli would write (with Age & Scarpelli) and direct The Organizer (I compagni) which many would consider his masterpiece.
One of the best films about labor struggles ever made, The Organizer takes a close-up look at impoverished textile workers in late 19th century Turin, Italy. The workforce is comprised of men, women and children. The management has no concern for the workers safety, only their level of productivity. They are expected to work fourteen hours a day, yet their wages are barely enough to keep food on the table. Sheer exhaustion is the norm; when an elderly worker loses his hand in one of the machines, it’s clearly a common occurrence.
The workers decide to confront their employers regarding their long hours and low pay. Not surprisingly, their concerns fall on deaf ears. Things begin to look up for the workers when a wayward intellectual organizer, Professor Sinigalia (Marcello Mastroianni)—who’s avoiding an arrest warrant—agrees to advise them in a strike.
Professor Sinigalia’s involvement in their struggle provides the workers with the solidarity they need for such a serious undertaking. Army sympathizers help to feed the strikers, while railroad workers pretend not to notice as they steal coal. Angry that the factory owner has hired men and women from s nearby town to replace them, the strikers attack a Sicilian worker who crosses the picket line. It’s not long before they learn that the man’s family lives in subhuman conditions. This realization forces them to make a morally ambiguous choice—enforce solidarity by forcing him to strike with them, or allow him to return to work so his family won’t starve?
It’s difficult to tell exactly what we’re supposed to make of Sinigalia. Is he a con risking the lives of a group of people he barely knows, or an idealist who’s willing to risk everything to make life better for them, and workers everywhere? Marcello Mastroianni plays against type here, leaving behind his usually suave personality for that of a vulnerable firebrand. Only when the strike is in full gear do his talents as a radical orator become apparent. Monicelli’s only nod to Mastroianni’s reputation as a suave lady killer occurs when a beautiful prostitute (Annie Girardot) buys him dinner and allows him to share her bed. It doesn’t necessarily fit in with the overall flow of the film, but it’s an interesting scene nonetheless.
While The Organizer may have some progandistic elements, but the story told is true and easy to relate to. Mario Garbuglia’s fantastic production design lends to the gritty feel of the story, and Monicelli’s ability to so fully develop the characters and the complexities of their lives makes this a truly special film about the human struggle to survive.
Framed in the original 1.85:1 theatrical aspect ratio, Criterion’s 1080p transfer is a beautiful one. Sharpness is nearly flawless—details can be seen in clothes, and in various buildings. The contrasts of Giuseppe Rotunno’s black and white cinematography has been faithfully rendered. There is no aliasing or edge enhancement to be found. There are a few instances of split second jump cutting that appear to be tiny flaws in the otherwise excellently preserved print and not due to the transfer process.
The LPCM 1.0 track doesn’t possess a lot of heft, but it’s not supposed to. The track is more than serviceable in that it provides clear dialogue and separation of effects.
English subtitles are provided.
The following special features are included:
- Mario Monicelli (11 min, SD) Recorded for Criterion in 2006, director Mario Monicelli introduces The Organizer and discusses commedia dell’italiana, Italian realism, neorealism, the French New Wave, and his own films.
- Trailer (2 min, HD) Original U.S. Trailer.
- Pamphlet: A cast and crew list, and J.B. Hoberman’s essay “Description of a Struggle”.