In the seventies, Italian judges ran the risk of being murdered. (These days, they are liberally berated by Signore Berlusconi, which I suppose is a change for the better.) The conflicts that ran through Italian society at the time are vividly reflected in "Tre Fratelli". The plot briefly reunites three brothers of quite different ages at their mother's death-bed. The oldest is a judge fighting terrorism, the youngest an industrial union member fighting for better work conditions. The third has dedicated his life to teaching difficult boys, and pleads for peace when his brothers start airing their views at each other and bickering over the use of violence in politics.
All three are idealists with lots of ideas. Although Rosi is interested in these ideas to a degree which immature viewers may find taxing, he emphasizes the emptiness of ideas alone. At one point the judge gets to say: some of us want to become as rich as they can, some of us want to change everything, both sides want to do it ASAP, and both have a terrible contempt for human life. On a more private note, none of the brothers has an unequivocally happy marriage. The judge's wife fears he will be killed and is constantly pleading with him to refuse dangerous cases; the youngest brother leaves his temperamental wife when she has one affair to his dozens; the teacher fears the intimacy of a committed relationship, and has remained celibate.
The ancient widower, in harmony with the picturesque countryside he lives in, is a contrast to his sons' torments. Even his memories of his wife are as good as it gets. Each of the characters has a dream episode; his is the only one that is neither unhappy nor utopian. He tells his city-bred granddaughter about her grandmother, about animals and stars, and the two reach an understanding deeper than that of the "grown-ups". Is it only women who place survival above politics? Is it only the very young and the very old who are wise enough not to take human affairs too seriously?
"Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call the day his own; he who, secure within, can say: Tomorrow, do thy worst! For I have lived today."
All three are idealists with lots of ideas. Although Rosi is interested in these ideas to a degree which immature viewers may find taxing, he emphasizes the emptiness of ideas alone. At one point the judge gets to say: some of us want to become as rich as they can, some of us want to change everything, both sides want to do it ASAP, and both have a terrible contempt for human life. On a more private note, none of the brothers has an unequivocally happy marriage. The judge's wife fears he will be killed and is constantly pleading with him to refuse dangerous cases; the youngest brother leaves his temperamental wife when she has one affair to his dozens; the teacher fears the intimacy of a committed relationship, and has remained celibate.
The ancient widower, in harmony with the picturesque countryside he lives in, is a contrast to his sons' torments. Even his memories of his wife are as good as it gets. Each of the characters has a dream episode; his is the only one that is neither unhappy nor utopian. He tells his city-bred granddaughter about her grandmother, about animals and stars, and the two reach an understanding deeper than that of the "grown-ups". Is it only women who place survival above politics? Is it only the very young and the very old who are wise enough not to take human affairs too seriously?
"Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call the day his own; he who, secure within, can say: Tomorrow, do thy worst! For I have lived today."