Hungarian director Tamás Almási is proud that he is reputed to have the “soul of a woman.
Inspired by Thomas Mann’s novel of the same name, the veteran documentary maker’s second feature film “Márió, a varázsló (“Mario, the Magician ) is actually about a Hungarian woman’s fascination with her Italian boss.
“Everybody has somebody in whom you see what you always wanted to see, said filmmaker Almási. In Mario (Franco Nero), we see what Vera (Júlia Nyakó) ‘always wanted to see’ – a hint of romance, a taste of the exotic, and an escape from the dull life in her native Hungary.
Yet Vera’s expectations of Mario, which stand as a metaphor of Hungary’s expectations of capitalism, are unfounded and unreciprocated. Vera’s dream soon turns into a delirium, and capitalism betrays Hungary just as socialism has done.
Mario with his shoe-factory is not simply an instrument of capitalism, though, nor is he a wafting illusory perfume that hypnotizes everyone. As he gazes and ponders the stillness of the lake, Mario’s presence is attractive to both Vera and the audience.
Responding to Daily News Egypt’s query of the nuanced portrayal of Mario, the director said it would have been extremely easy to show the local people as stupid and the foreigner as a shrewd, exploitative businessman who fools them. “But the process is a bit like love, said Almási, where “two people are needed.
Mario is one among the three faces of capitalism in the movie, Almási clarified.
Vera’s introduction to Italy is through Gerardo, her “kind supervisor at the factory. The women work for the old man, because “everyone loves him. Yet, once things are established he moves on to help set up another factory.
Another Italian figure is that of “a faceless person that executed orders, unconcerned and untouched by local realities.
“Mario is needed, said Almási, “because Vera needed him.
The Italian “summoned in Vera some youthful dreams and desires, not unlike the “dreams in Europe to go and live in the West.
The plot works convincingly on both literal and figurative levels. Nyakó gives a natural performance as Vera who starts off a responsible and creative factory-worker, ending up deluded and love-struck.
From the get-go, Vera’s fancy with her boss with whom she can barely communicate has hints of obsession.
She starts off by memorizing Italian vocabulary alphabetically. In two weeks, she is fully bathed in things Italian: she has bought lipstick and adopted hair and dress styles seen in Italian magazines.
She even lets her fancy of Mario impair her judgment at work. Often taken to the musicality of his name – “Mario, Mario, Mario – Vera assigns shoes to be printed with an “M instead of the assigned signature “W.
When her love for Mario is thwarted, Vera attacks him in a rage of betrayal. The story could have ended there, but the finale is deliberately open-ended.
“It wanted to say we have our own capitalists and we don’t need Mario, said the director, whose spouse offered translations of his answers in English.
“The Hungarians have learned, said Almási, “to exploit and oppress themselves.
Caption: “Mario, the Magician is a Hungarian entry to the international competition at the Cairo International Film Festival.
