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Crialese
badly wanted her for the role, and sent his producer to meet her: "He just
said: 'Here's a script. It's not much money.”
Despite this unpromising
start, Respiro has given Golino the role of her career. It opened last year
in Italy and did substantial business; but then in January it also became a
surprising top 10 hit in France.
Now re-released in Italy, it has featured on
the box-office charts for almost a year. What gave Golino the hunch this
little film could have such an impact? "It was a wonderful story about this
woman," she says simply. "I really liked the relationship between Grazia
and her three kids.
It's volatile, sensual, with a lot of touching, which I
find completely natural in a mother-son relationship - even though I don't
have kids myself." Valeria was born in Naples; her father is a scholar, her
Greek mother a painter, and her uncle Enzo a celebrated Italian journalist.
When her bohemian parents split, she grew up in both Rome and Athens, and
was a glamour model by age 16 - albeit one who had already read Proust.
Currently single, she does not discuss her private life. Intriguingly,
Respiro is set in what could be termed the recent present. It looks faintly
contemporary, though there's not a mobile phone, video game or wide-screen
TV in sight. Yet it could also be set back in the 1950s, the heyday of
Italian cinema neo-realism; Golino, in a cheap cotton print frock, playing
fierce and assertive as well as playful and sensual, recalls such Italian
screen icons as Anna Magnani, Silvana Mangano and the young Loren. She might
be a heroine in an old classic by de Sica or Rossellini. It's no accident,
she insists, that she looks this way on screen. "I feel Respiro is
hyper-realistic," she muses. "Superficially it looks like a neo-realist
film. Pasolini and de Sica are Emmanuele's masters. Italian cinema has gone
through a bad period. "Everyone's been afraid for a long time. Our young
directors have lacked confidence. Our cinema was so strong in the 1950s,
they were like sons who suffered from dominating father figures. Now it's
finally time to revisit that era to make it even more vivid. "There's no big
splashy renaissance in Italian films. We have good young actors and
directors. What we lack are screenwriters. It's hard to write about Italy.
At the moment, it's uninspiring." She finds the Berlusconi era materialistic
and dull: "It's such an unpoetic time. We aren't even having difficulties.
It's a wealthy, middle-class era. When I think of Italy now, I think of
accessories, possessions, bad TV, fake boobs, BMWs." Ironically, Golino's
big break has come now she has left Hollywood, after commuting between there
and Rome for 12 years: "I had a house high up on Mulholland Drive. |
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The
Hollywood dream wasn't mine as much as the people who represented me.
"They wanted me to behave like a film star. I was working to maintain a
certain amount of luxury, which wasn't why I went to America. I just
respected certain American film-makers." She worked with good ones: Penn,
Quentin Tarantino (Four Rooms), Mike Figgis (Leaving Las Vegas) and John
Frankenheimer (Year of the Gun), as well as Barry Levinson in Rain Man. "I
had hoped to work with people like that, not be a star. There was this
dichotomy between what I wanted and what was happening. Finally I sold my
house. I didn't want any more managers, business managers or publicists.
At a certain point I said 'enough'. Not because individually they weren't
nice people. I just felt I was supporting them all."-David Gretten.

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