The Leopard (1963): When A Classic Of Italian Literature Became A Cinematic Masterpiece
In loving memory of Alain Delon, whose unforgettable portrayal in The Leopard captured the essence of a vanishing era with grace and intensity.
“If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change.”
Last summer I read Il Gattopardo, the first and only novel written by Italian author Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa. This literary masterpiece is globally recognized as The Leopard, so I am going to use its international title throughout this essay.
I finally made the decision to read The Leopard after stumbling upon an old copy of the novel that once belonged to my grandfather. It was a 1960 Italian edition published by Feltrinelli; knowing how much my grandfather cherished both the novel and its movie adaptation, I felt a sense of excitement as I delved into the pages of his own copy of the book.
At the same time I was a little intimidated at first and I thought it would be a difficult read because it is considered predominantly a historical novel, so I wanted to make sure I was familiar with all the references within it. Given that the narrative is set against a backdrop of historical events, it is relatively straightforward to grasp the unfolding events through the lens of the characters' lives and the dialogues they engage in.
I found The Leopard to be a wonderful, beautifully written novel and there is definitely something deeply lyrical about it. The book evokes a bygone era, capturing its essence along with its inherent characteristics and contradictions.
In 1860 the Garibaldians landed in Sicily after overthrowing the Bourbon monarchy in Naples (a few months later, the birth of the Kingdom of Italy would be proclaimed under the Savoy monarchy). The aristocracy is still enjoying its privileges, but the decline of the noble class has already begun. The Prince of Salina Don Fabrizio, known as The Leopard (“Il Gattopardo”) because of the feline beast that marks his family crest, is aware that their dynastic traditions are coming to an end. The rebellious Garibaldians are further bolstered by the presence of Tancredi Falconeri, Don Fabrizio’s favored nephew. Tancredi, who embraces new liberal ideas, serves as an influential figure, encouraging his uncle to follow this wave of change.
Even though Don Fabrizio is opposed to it, he nevertheless decides to arrange a marriage between the heroic army officer Tancredi and Angelica, the beautiful daughter of Don Calogero Sedara, an enriched peasant and mayor of Donnafugata (a small fictitious Sicilian feudal town in the province of Agrigento), where the Salina family owns a summer residence. This marriage will be beneficial to Tancredi’s political career; Don Fabrizio, on the other hand, rejects the appointment as senator of the new kingdom that was proposed to him by the king’s envoy Chevalley and decides to suggest Angelica’s father in his place.
During a ball held in honor of Tancredi and Angelica, Don Fabrizio starts to sense the weight of time bearing down on him, viewing it as an ominous sign of impending death. This includes the demise of the noble "Gattopardi" class, soon to be replaced by a cunning, unscrupulous bourgeoisie. This transition is symbolized by the Sedara family in the novel. The protagonist then begins to reflect on the significance of the new events as he witnesses the end of his social class, which will also coincide with his own death.
Before being published posthumously by Feltrinelli in 1958, Tomasi di Lampedusa’s novel was rejected by several Italian publishers but went on to become incredibly successful in the postwar period, even winning the Premio Strega, one of the most prestigious Italian prizes for literature.
The Leopard draws heavily from the events of the author's own family history, as Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa belonged to the aristocratic Tomasi di Lampedusa family. The main character, Prince Don Fabrizio Corbera di Salina, is based on Prince Giulio Fabrizio Tomasi, who was not only a prominent astronomer but also the author's grandfather. The Lampedusa Palace was heavily damaged by bombing during World War II and as a result the author, who was a highly educated person and a lover of literature, experienced a period of severe depression.
Although the events of the story take place between 1860 and 1910, the novel itself was penned between 1954 and 1957. Its title is derived from the family crest of the Princes of Lampedusa, which prominently featured a feline creature.
While initially “gattopardo” carried a largely positive connotation, over time it has taken on a negative meaning that stands for the “transformism” of the Italian ruling classes; to this day, the Italian term "gattopardismo" symbolizes the act of outwardly embracing progressive ideas while covertly seeking to preserve old privileges during a new political era. As stated in a review by the online website Sentieri Selvaggi; “Everything changes, so that nothing changes, is the matrix of all «transformism» that has become a form of coexistence and daily practice even in post-unification Italy, with inevitable and uninterrupted repercussions in our present.”
The novel delves into the Sicilian narrative tradition, exploring themes of decadence and death. Primarily, it examines the demise of the aristocratic class, symbolizing a shift towards a cunning bourgeoisie poised to take its place. The theme of change is also present in The Leopard; while Chevalley encourages progress, Don Fabrizio states that the Sicilians do not like change and therefore allow themselves to be dominated by the currents, believing to be perfect as they are. Change is thus seen by the protagonist as an illusion because nothing really changes. Through Don Fabrizio, the author highlights the inability to change oneself, which generally leads to decadence; there are references to the transience of life and a sense of impending end, which can be clearly felt in the last chapters of the book.
To this day, The Leopard continues to be revered as one of the greatest novels in both Italian and international literature (it has been translated into numerous languages); its popularity has not diminished over time, also thanks to director Luchino Visconti’s 1963 movie adaptation, which won the Palme d’Or at the 16th Cannes Film Festival and featured prominent stars such as Burt Lancaster, Alain Delon and Claudia Cardinale.
Last year I had the opportunity to watch the restored version of The Leopard, which was re-released on the streaming platform Rai Play in commemoration of the movie's 60th anniversary. Since it was a French co-production, the film was restored in collaboration with the Cineteca di Bologna, L’Immagine Ritrovata, Pathé (Fondation Jérôme Seydoux-Pathé) and its restoration was sponsored by The Film Foundation and the Italian fashion house Gucci (which also contributed to the restoration of Fellini’s masterpiece La Dolce Vita). The restored version has brought newfound sharpness to The Leopard, enhancing its details and making the film a true visual delight. This is further complemented by Giuseppe Rotunno’s exceptional cinematography, who earned the Silver Ribbon for Best Color Cinematography. What struck me the most was how closely the movie matched the vivid imagery I had conjured in my mind while reading the novel!
The Leopard was shot in a series of amazing locations in Sicily; the very realistic battle scenes take place in Palermo, while the scenes at the Salina palace were filmed at Villa Boscogrande and the Donnafugata residence of the Salina family was recreated in Ciminna, in the province of Palermo. Don Fabrizio's primary residence boasts sumptuous rooms adorned with precious walnut furniture. This aesthetic strongly resonated with me, reminiscent of the interiors found in villas throughout Southern Italy, (from which part of my family hails) but this elegant setting is characterized by an atmosphere of opulence and indolence at the same time. While in the book the final scene of the ball occupies only a few pages, in the film it extends for about 45 minutes, constituting almost the entirety of its third act; it was shot in Palazzo Valguarnera-Gangi, a historic 18th-century residence in Palermo.
The costumes were brilliantly crafted (The Leopard was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Costumes in 1964), and the ballroom scene plays a central role because the end of the ball also coincides with the end of the film, since Visconti eliminated the last three chapters of the book. There are indeed notable differences between Tomasi di Lampedusa’s novel and its movie adaptation; however, I believe these disparities are rather inconsequential, as one can fully appreciate both the novel and the movie as two distinct works of art.
The camera movements and long shots highlight the Sicilian landscape in all its immensity, and watching the movie ignited a strong desire within me to visit Sicily.
Burt Lancaster delivers a flawless performance in the role of Don Fabrizio, while all the actors excel in bringing their characters to life. Alain Delon and Claudia Cardinale shine in their respective roles as Tancredi and Angelica, exhibiting impressive on-screen chemistry.
For the music in The Leopard, Visconti chose acclaimed composer Nino Rota, who created a score that is perfectly suited to serve as a backdrop for the movie events. The central motif of the dance scenes is the score of a Valzer Brillante by Giuseppe Verdi, which was orchestrated by Nino Rota for the film. The music is meticulously crafted and significantly contributes to the greatness of Luchino Visconti’s movie, which is widely regarded as one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces ever created. Despite its lengthy running time of 187 minutes, the film effortlessly captivates the viewer's attention from beginning to end. It stands as a true work of art, and the restoration has further enhanced its splendor once again.
BOOKS AND MOVIES LIKE THE LEOPARD: If you have seen and loved The Leopard you may want to check out some thought-provoking and contemplative movies that have been recommended to me, such as Stanley Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon (1975), The Tree of Wooden Clogs (1978) and Ludwig (1973), which spans an even longer runtime than The Leopard (about 238 minutes!) but is absolutely riveting.
Other movies that I love and would recommend because they are similar to The Leopard in themes or atmospheres include Marie Antoinette (2006) by Sofia Coppola (who is one of my all-time favorite directors) and Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Conformist (1970), which I rewatched a few months ago after reading Alberto Moravia’s eponymous novel.
To venture into classic Italian cinema, Federico Fellini’s 8 ½ (1963), on the other hand, is both surreal and philosophical so you would probably enjoy it. If you want to take a look at other movies directed by Luchino Visconti, I have watched and loved Conversation Piece (1974), set in a lavish Roman palace and with Burt Lancaster once again taking center stage in a captivating role. I also loved Rocco and His Brothers (1960), one of the iconic films of Italian Neorealism that is set in Milan (where I was born and raised) and stars Alain Delon as a young immigrant from Southern Italy. Also, if you appreciate Alain Delon as an actor, I highly recommend the movie La Piscine (1969), set around a villa with a swimming pool in the picturesque hills of Saint Tropez.
I have expanded my watch list of Luchino Visconti films to include Senso (1954) and The Damned (1969), alongside Death in Venice (1971), though I am inclined to read Thomas Mann's novel before watching its movie adaptation.
As for novels that are similar to The Leopard, I especially recommend the ones from the Sicilian tradition such as Giovanni Verga’s The House By The Medlar Tree and Federico De Roberto’s The Viceroys. If you enjoyed The Leopard, there are also some masterpieces of Italian literature that might interest you; Zeno’s Conscience by Italo Svevo and Alessandro Manzoni’s The Betrothed, a novel that I recently revisited and found myself deeply appreciating, despite having a lukewarm response to it back in high school when certain chapters were required reading. This reaffirms my belief that books often find their way to you when the timing is just right.