The Bone Breakers (Spaccaossa)

The scene you’re most likely to remember comes right at the start of The Bone Breakers. Inside a warehouse, bodybuilding weights are packed into a suitcase which, once sealed, is carried up some scaffolding. Below, men hold another man’s arm so that it rests on two blocks, one at each end, then the man on the scaffolding drops the case from the scaffolding onto the man below’s rested arm, painfully breaking it. You’re immediately wondering what’s going on, possibly assuming the men are gangsters and the man whose arm has been broken has upset or crossed them in some way.

However, the man is compliant and even though his fractured arm clearly causes him considerable pain afterwards, he goes along with and and doesn’t appear to bear the men who have done this any ill will. They get him to the hospital where his arm is put in a sling, then take him to another building in which he’ll live in the short term, presumably to recuperate.

Beyond that, it isn’t entirely obvious what’s going on although, in fact, it’s very simple. Although the glowing term ‘inspried’ sounds far too optimistic and pleasant, this is inspired by an insurance scam in Palermo whereby people’s bones were broken to enable them to claim on the insurance money. Or rather, to enable to claims of the people whose bones were broken and the criminals who set up this scheme, who take their not inconsiderable cut even as they claim in good capitalist fashion to be providing a service that people want. All this (and the exact purpose of the house) is explained in a brief title at the close of the film.

To tell this horrific story, co-writer and director Vincenzo Pirrotta weaves a complex network of characters who prove really hard for the audience to keep up with. Chief among these in Vincenzo (played by Pirrotta himself) who, it quickly becomes apparent, isn’t really suited to this or any similar line of business. You need to be ruthless, make threats and be able to see them through if people using the service try to bend the rules, but Vincenzo is too likely to listen to people and try and help them.

Moreover, he’s completely smitten with black-clad drug addict Luisa (Selena Caramazza), despite his being told she is unreliable, and after having sex with her tries to help her by getting her arm broken. It’s fairly obvious that this has the potential to go bad and poison their blossoming relationship pretty fast, alongside various other broken bone situations with other people who develop all sorts of complications. Towards the end, we even get into faked, fatal road accidents.

There’s another gang member much more ruthless than Vincenzo – and therefore much more likely to get the required results – who starts taking work off him. Vincenzo’s Catholic mother (Aurore Quattrocchi), meanwhile, alongside verbalising piety, seems to know exactly what’s going on and constantly tells him what to do, even though her admonitions may be beyond his essentially compassionate nature.

In addition to its overly complicated storyline, perhaps the narrative’s problems lie in showing its hand too early. After that devastating opening, it’s difficult to imagine anything else having quite the same impact. And although the film presses several scenarios into play in the hope of achieving that end, nothing quite tops it.

Nevertheless, as these gruesome and immoral events play out, there’s a compelling fascination to them, particularly with a central character who lacks what it takes to make such things run smoothly because he possesses a basic humanity that flies in the face of what all those around him are doing or encouraging. Altogether, an incredibly bleak and depressing vision, definitely not recommended for the faint of heart, which nevertheless carries within it the seeds of optimism: things are bad, but some people are striving, even if unsuccessfully, to make them better. Or, at least, less bad.

The Bone Breakers plays in the Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival. Watch the film trailer below:

Shooting the Mafia

Letizia Battaglia followed a most dangerous career path – capturing the life and crimes of the Mafia in Palermo, Sicily’s capital. John Gotti may have loved celebrity, but none of the Mafiosi from the old country appreciated a young, brazen woman confronting them with a Pentax. ‘If he could, he would have killed me’, Letizia remarked of Luciano Leggio, a leading figure of the Sicilian Mob.

Her work, presented in stark monochrome, depicts death and suffering in the arresting style of Don McCullin and Philip Jones Griffiths. Thematically, however, Letizia’s work may share more with that of Alexander Gardener, who used photography – then in its infancy – to confront the public with the horrors of the American Civil War.

This is what compelled Letizia to take some 600,000 photographs for the L’Ora newspaper – to shatter any romantic notions of the Cosa Nostra by depicting the rank brutality of their war on civil society. And it worked, her catalogue of dead men, women and children made a powerful impression on the people of Sicily, driving support for the heroic anti-Mafia judge Giovanni Falcone.

Shooting the Mafia isn’t just an organised crime documentary, though. It is the story of a girl and woman making her way in Sicily’s patriarchal society. Longinotto presents her subject in an intimate, engaging way, placing Letizia’s narration against a combination of stock and archival footage to tell her story.

However, this look into her personal life can overstay its welcome. Letizia’s early life is given a quaint, romantic quality, yet the continued emphasis placed on her later relationships can be of dubious interest. After all, it is her association with organised crime that makes her interesting, not her love life. Yet, despite this, there is a resonant tenderness about how she and her lovers talk about what their relationships meant. There is no acrimony, just an open discussion of why things transpired the way they did. It’s a reflection of the contentedness that can come with age.

Her work in public life makes for the most interesting viewing, though. Letizia states the importance of having a clean political system and she is absolutely right. Corruption is the harbinger of dysfunction, destitution and death. And the man who took the fight to the Mafia – Giovanni Falcone – was a hero. When asked about his life-risking commitment to the state, he answered, ‘it’s not about state, it’s about society’.

And the island society he was trying to save was wracked with terrible violence. ‘We’d never known violence like it, there were 1000 murders one year’, Letizia recounts. She confronted this menace head-on, documenting as many crimes as she could. Indeed, it was the photos she didn’t take that ‘hurt her the most’.

Shooting the Mafia is in UK cinemas on Friday, November 29th.