The film reveals a questing ‘cinematographic’ vision, a high mastery of the camera on the part of Guazzoni; even though the camera remains immobile, dramatization of the viewpoint is achieved by atypical shooting angles. Some less descriptive, but highly dramatic passages, ‘narrate’ the film, giving an authorial imprint and not limiting themselves to seeing the action as if it were confined to a stage. The tinting and toning which enliven the film are varied according to the internal or external ambiance. The use of crowd scenes is notable (for a film of such short duration the number of extras is exceptional). These scenes are disconcerting: the angular framing and the distant viewpoint emphasize the abuse suffered by the woman, completely solitary. This portends the tragic end of an innocent. Ghione is at his ease and his personal dynamism confers an appearance of movement on the fixed images. His acting is power- fully evocative: dressed believably in eighteenth century clothes, his body slides in and out of the frame, nervous, altered in movement, every slight emotion of the character emphasized by a diabolic, allu­sive look, a jerk, a claw-like hand which grasps the air, a sardonic smile in a Constant – but apparently indifferent – dialogue with the public. The other actors, seem to be acting for the theatre, inclined to immobility. In contrast, Ghione understands that he must communicate with the spectator, and lose no time: thus his character, repellant as it is, becomes fascinating.

Denis Liotti