Aria di paese: Macario and the ghost of Italian comedy past

Is it worth your time?

If you're a fan of old Italian comedy or you’ve got a weird obsession with Erminio Macario, sure, give it a go. But if you’re looking for something tight or fast-paced, you’re gonna be bored out of your mind. It’s a relic, plain and simple.

There’s this particular rhythm to Aria di paese that feels like it was filmed in a different century. Which, well, it was. The camera sits there, watching scenes play out like a stage play that forgot to have a curtain call. It’s weirdly hypnotic, even when nothing much is happening.

The Macario Factor

Macario is doing his usual thing. He’s got that wide-eyed, slightly confused look that he wore like a second skin. Sometimes it works! Other times, it just feels like he’s waiting for a punchline that someone forgot to write.

There is this one moment near the middle where he’s just trying to navigate a doorway while carrying a bunch of nonsense props. It goes on for way too long. The silence in the room starts to feel heavy, and I’m pretty sure the guy behind the camera just forgot to yell cut.

It’s not as sharp as Love at First Fight, that’s for sure. It lacks that spark. Everything feels a bit muted, like the film stock itself was tired of being used.

• The village sets look like they’re made of wet cardboard.
• The sound mixing is a total disaster, but in a fun, authentic way.
• There's a scene with a chicken that honestly had more personality than half the supporting cast. 🐔

Don't get me wrong, there are bits of charm here. It’s got that rustic, lived-in feel that you just don't get in modern stuff. It’s messy, it’s loud, and the plot holes are big enough to drive a Fiat through. But it’s got a pulse, I guess.

If you want to compare it to other stuff from the era, it’s definitely not hitting the highs of The Bad Genius. It’s just... there. A little piece of history sitting on a shelf, gathering dust. 📽️