Two years after Nozze d’oro, the seasoned duo Frusta-Maggi took on a theme dear to Italian film of the time: the heroic events of the Risorgimento, which necessarily entailed reducing the Austrian invaders to victims of patriotic cunning and courage. Audiences went wild, imprecating so vehemently when the enemy appeared on the screen that some police headquarters blocked the film. Like Nozze d’oro, the narrative is told as a memory and gives the main characters a chance to fall in love. The ‘narrating voice’ is a grandmother’s, unwilling to accept a modern electric lamp: in fact, it was her old oil lamp that helped her get rid of the enemy and marry a handsome lieutenant. The film excels at the use of space: the small town under siege is like a warren full of hideouts and leading to a series of tricks revolving around the sacristy and the bell tower. Unable to control the terrain and see beyond appearances, the Austrians surrender. Like in many of Frusta’s stories, the person who uses hidden ravines, disguise and double-dealing wins.

In the wake of the immense success en­joyed by Nozze d’oro (Golden Anniversary, 1911) and by I Mille (The Thousand Men, 1912), in 1913 the Ambrosio Studios intensified its commitment to the pro­duction of films surrounding the theme of the Risorgimento with three films on the subject: Il notturno di Chopin (Cho­pin’s Nocturne), Le campane della morte (The Death Knells) and La lampada della nonna (Grandmother’s Lamp). The latter of these, which recounts an episode from the Second War of Independence, makes use of what was at the time a popular nar­rative expedient in historic-patriotic films: the flashback. Through the tales of their grandmother, the children relive the hero­ism of the Risorgimento, with a common ideal uniting past and present: the name and honor of the Nation. The film, note­worthy for the stunning cinematography by Giovanni Vitrotti, was withdrawn from the theatres due to public protests against Austria, which in 1913 was still Italy’s ally.

Giovanni Lasi