Italian Film Director Francesco Rosi -- RIP

Francesco Rosi (right) during filming of
The Moment of Truth, a splendid movie
about a Spanish bullfighter and the
social conditions that shaped him.

The Italian film director Francesco Rosi recently passed away at age 92. His career was characterized by his firm intention to depict individual psychological reality and the environments which shaped his movies' characters. I think Rosi was a great director, although his movies gain power and eloquence if a viewer knows something about Italy, its social drama, and its history. I've linked a YouTube clip showing my favorite segment from Hands Over the City, which shows an animated Naples council meeting in which corrupt members gestured that their hands were clean  -- mani pulite. Part of the sequence's strength is Rosi's use of actual council members as actors. Supposedly, the council members kept arguing with each other after Rosi said the Italian version of "cut." I hope the clip provides some sense of Rosi's directorial skill and insight.

Rosi had many admirers among film makers, one of whom was Martin Scorsese. Rosi's American counterpart released a statement concerning the Neapolitan maestro which Variety cited in its Rosi obit. It's included in full here:

Francesco Rosi was, without a doubt, one of the greatest filmmakers in the history of Italian cinema—really, when all is said and done, one of the greatest filmmakers we’ve ever had, period. Rosi’s greatest films – ‘Hands Over the City,’ ‘The Mattei Affair,’ ‘Lucky Luciano,’ ‘Christ Stopped at Eboli,’ ‘Three Brothers’ and the incomparable ‘Salvatore Giuliano’ among them – are unlike anything else in cinema: complex historical investigations, as passionately devoted to uncovering painful truths as they are to celebrating the beauty and poetry of the people and the land Rosi loved with all his heart. There are so many passages in those pictures that have permanently marked me: the young husband sifting through the sand for his wife’s ring in ‘Three Brothers,’ the collapse of the building in ‘Hands Over the City,’ the mother wailing over her son’s body in ‘Salvatore Giuliano’… So many more… 

I had the honor of knowing the man. For me, Franco Rosi meant vitality, strength, fortitude, and the fiercest love – in a word, spirit. He led a long life and a good one, but it saddens me more than I can say to know that he is no longer among us. I’ll state it simply: he was the master.

Addio, Francesco e sogni d'oro.

High Roller Ferris Wheel Opens In Las Vegas

Night view from High Roller ferris wheel
(Image: vitalvegas.com)

When one thinks of Las Vegas high rollers, one imagines excitable dice players shepherded by sharp-eyed wise guys through plush, over-the-top venues. (Martin Scorsese's Casino nicely captures the flavor of that era.) Well, the one city that truly never sleeps (sorry, New York) has challenged expectations, as a sales manager might say. On Monday, a new ferris wheel called High Roller opened for business in Vegas. According to a piece in the Chicago Tribune, the 550-foot wheel of fortune offers arguably the best views of Sin City money can buy. And yes, the ferris wheel is definitely a pay-to-play event: the cheapest ticket to ride is $24.95. You'll need to add another ten bucks for an after-dark experience.

Jumping into the Football Pool

Until two years ago, I had never participated in a gambling pool. My wagering experience, prior to jumping into my office's pro football pool, consisted of a rare two dollar bet on some thoroughbred horse races and some quickly, tiny sums of money lost at Las Vegas and cruise ship blackjack tables.

Gambling is not a common experience in my family. My mother bet on horses as often as I did, and with about as much success. I can't recall my father ever making a wager, although I believe he was capable of it. My brothers might have played cards and bet a few bucks, but they were hardly habitual gamblers and, as far as I know, lost the urge somewhere after their teen years. I can't think of a good friend or a colleague who put his or her money down on a sure thing. Given the number of gamblers in the world, and especially in sin cities such as New York, one could say my association with non-gamblers beat the odds.

My father-in-law died long before Amy took a chance on me as her husband. He was a player, according to my wife, my now-deceased mother-in-law, and anyone I've met who knew him.

He gambled enough to attract Vegas' largesse. He knew the man who invented the casino junket. He knew people who strongly resembled the Ace Rothstein character played by Robert DeNiro in Martin Scorsese's movie Casino. Like many businessmen, my father-in-law couldn't stop trying to outwit the competition. Amy's dad would have enjoyed nothing more than placing football bets with his son-in-law. In fact, he would have insisted I get into the pool and get wet.

Since my plunge into football gambling, I've become more interested in the outcomes of the games. I take note of dull teams and wonder if they'll cover the spread. I cautiously watch squads being touted as "can't miss" propositions. Above all, I try to have fun and not take it too seriously. This is a difficult stance for me, as sports betting is one area in which I have a very competitive spirit.

The cost of admission for the sinner's way to enjoy the Sabbath is a little bit more than what I pay for one month's dues for the local YMCA. My late father-in-law would have been perplexed by a Sunday afternoon spent in virtuous physical exercise, but would have understood investing a few hours in a sporting proposition.