Review of The Flowers of St. Francis

"To wait for the unfolding of Thy will" "The Flowers of St Francis"(1950) Is perhaps the finest piece of Italian Neorealist Cinema, It is earnest & it is brutally joyous, It is my favourite film. Because its meaning escapes me, for I'm neither a Saint nor a wise man. Because the lovingly conveyed ambitions of this film lies not in technique or innovation, but what it strives for is to modestly communicate to the ever present, "silent" God. It is an elegy for a love so true and just, a love that is completely foreign to the modern soul. It is penned by a non-believer, a troubled artist, a Dominican Priest and a Franciscan Friar. All its vibrancy & childlike curiosity is in service of subtle narrative depth & to hopefully lay hold of the blissful faith of those who truly lived & died for Christ. Saint Francis & The early Franciscan Friars were portrayed by The Monks of The Nocera Inferiore Monastery, It was the Theological exercise of Cinéma vérité and the purest example of the Neorealist movement, How appropriate it is to cast men who truly live by the words of Christ, who spout their lines with such innocent informality and who's body language are awkwardly palpable. Yet, they exemplify the greatest achievement of the film, And that achievement lies within its narrative structure. A story that is designed in a way that is analogous to that of a prayer. It starts in a hopeful, pleading sentence. As it perseveres to a tone of melancholia & spiritual regret, It learns, it stumbles, It remembers the guilty & the defiled, It fails to eloquently articulate the deepest longing of the heart, A heart that has been trampled upon by the disease of worldly pleasures and the spiteful pride of men. And at last, It rests and It surrenders to the lullaby of the often joyous and often sorrowful mysteries of our Faith, It suddenly gains trust and it now knows that the love of God, is one that is unceasing. It endures everything, every wound, & every heartbreak. It is love that is void of anxious burdens, for it is full sacrifice. It then finally reaches a moment of epiphany, that our truest joys are the ones in silence & in solitude, alone with Christ Crucified.