Famous Italian director Salvatore Di Vita seems ambivalent to messages from home until he learns that someone named “Alfredo” has died. We flashback to young, 8-year-old Salvatore and see his budding friendship with film projectionist Alfredo, who works at the theatre Cinema Paradiso. Salvatore’s father died in the war and Alfredo takes on something of a father-figure roll, teaching him how to run the projector and doling out life-advice straight from the movies. Now a teenager, Salvatore runs the projector and falls in love with a young woman, named Elena. As time goes on, Salvatore leaves town for military service and when he returns, nothing feels quite the same—Elena is gone, the Cinema Paradiso is run down, and the now blind Alfredo encourages him to leave and follow his dreams. He does, returning only for Alfredo’s funeral, 30 years later. As Salvatore walks through the place of his childhood, he expresses nostalgia for the past, disappointment in the present, and feels Alfredo’s love one last time in a spectacular gift that I can’t explain with justice.
“Cinema Paradiso” is a wonderful reflection on growing up, nostalgia, learning pain, and feeling love, all set against an exploration of the magic of movies. The curious, mischievous Salvatore and the quirky, wise Alfredo were a great match and seeing this friend-mentor-father relationship unfold was a joy to watch. Alfredo’s monologue on why he liked being a projectionist (despite how bad the job is) resonated with me in uncomfortable clarity. The film perfectly captured the feeling of returning to the place your were raised in and sensing all of the ways it has changed and stayed the same. It also glows with nostalgia for a past reality which may or may not have existed, from the magical, outdoor, harbor-side film screening to the impossibly beautiful Elena. Perhaps I’m overstating, but I think that any Millennial—steeped in nostalgia for our childhood and fraught by the ugliness of our modern era—will immediately connect with this film through its humor, symbolism, style, charm, and exploration of the refuge offered in movies.