For fans of Italian cinema, this latest from the Criterion Collection is a strange blend of interests. Directed by the great Luchino Visconti, The Leopard stars Burt Lancaster as well as Alain Delon and Claudia Cardinale. Lancaster is the Prince of Salina, a well-respected and aristocratic gentleman, caught up in a transitional time in Sicilian history. The ways of the monarchy are under attack by revolutionaries, and the ancient aristocratic classes are giving way to the new Italy. The Prince of Salina is one of the last of his kind, and while on vacation arranges a marriage between his nephew (Delon) and a daughter of the new middle class (Cardinale). All at once a commentary on modern Italy as well as the Italy of the 1860s, The Leopard is fervent romance, family responsibility, violent war, and a sumptuous party — all in three glorious hours.

To say the film is lavish is an understatement. From the impossibly beautiful Italian countryside to the enormous palaces, the film reminds you of every grand painting you’ve ever seen in a museum. Mention is made in the supplementals that the film was shot in Super Technirama with an aspect ratio of 2.21:1, because Cinemascope was simply not large enough to capture the grandeur of the locations. The costumes and décor are no less impressive; sumptuous and regal attire adorn all, from Lancaster to the five hundred extras present in one of the most beautiful ballroom sequences ever filmed. There is a hint of Gone With the Wind in the military regalia, the gentle women, and the impending end of an entire social order. It is clear that the Prince is in the twilight of his life and grappling with the unavoidable truth that the times are swiftly changing. Lancaster plays the role with total command, a quiet confidence that pervades every scene and makes the mysterious man supremely likable. Claudia Cardinale is ravishing here, and Alain Delon just as appealing. The whole film is far too easy on the eyes.

In the way of many Italian films of the era, The Leopard was originally recorded in a multitude of languages — English, Italian, and French and then overdubbed entirely in Italian. Burt Lancaster stands out as the only American in a European cast made up of such talented actors as Delon and Fellini’s muse Claudia Cardinale. The music is by Nino Rota, another Italian cinematic veteran. Though the dubbing is noticeable at first, eventually it becomes less important than the story that is being conveyed. As someone who enjoys knowing everything that is happening in a film, I found it odd that not everything is subtitled, including the morning prayers in the beginning of the film. Though without subtitles filling every frame, it was nice to be able to enjoy the lyrical nature of the Italian language and be wholly pulled into the film.

This release sees not only the gorgeous Blu-ray version, but on the second disc, the failed English version that was initially released in America. Though the film won Best Film at the 1963 Cannes Film Festival, audiences in America were not as thrilled to sit through a three-hour epic focusing on minutiae of Italian history. Another disappointing essay! This time the essay, by Michael Wood, seems incredibly short for the immensity of the work, only two short pages in the booklet. The audio commentary by Peter Cowie is interesting; his stately voice matches the film’s slow intensity and his insights left me wondering why he didn’t write the essay instead.

In the documentary on the second disc, 2003’s A Dying Breed: The Making of The Leopard, we are treated to recent interviews with Cardinale, as well as the cinematographer, costumer, screenwriters, and others as they work their way through the process of bringing the book to life on-screen. Every single person mentions his or her respect and admiration for Viscounti, for his tyrannical but devoted method of directing, and for his unparalleled vision. Visconti was committed to realism in his films, expensive though it might be. His insistence on real silks, working furniture, and the finest materials throughout would bankrupt Titanus Films, the company that made the film. Eventually Visconti paid back every lira, and went on to make two more pictures with Titanus. Also included on the second disc are a documentary about the history behind the events portrayed in the film, a video interview with the producer, and a collection of posters as well as several theatrical trailers, both Italian and American. The release is beautifully designed, with two discs and a booklet, all folded up, and then another slipcover with a still of Lancaster on the front. The fonts and tone are all tasteful and appropriate to the formal gentility of the film.

The Leopard has been previously released by Criterion on regular DVD format, but for fans who have never seen it the Blu-ray captures the grandiose space. Criterion has made some exceptional choices this year as to which films would receive Blu-ray treatment, and while this release does not contain any different supplements than the earlier Criterion release, the Blu-ray is well-deserved and gorgeously rendered.

The Leopard is now available from the Criterion Collection.

Tags: blu-ray reviews, criterion collection, the leopard