It is the fusion of three elements which make The Leopard such a powerful and memorable work. First, there is the novel by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa on which the film is closely based, a great work in its own right. Then there is Visconti's direction - confident to the point of arrogance, yet utterly faultless. Here we are some way from the neo-realist works with which Visconti began his film-making career. The Leopard is a lavish historical drama, made on a colossal budget, with an impressive battle scene and the most indulgent ball scene ever filmed. In many ways, the film is emblematic of the contradictions in Visconti's own personality and life. He was born into aristocracy, but gravitated towards Marxism before realising that he could not live without wealth and grandeur. Indeed, the central character in The Leopard is, to all intents and purposes, Visconti himself - both men find themselves in a world which is beneath their dignity, yet both must adapt to changing circumstances or else face being airbrushed away into obscurity. Perhaps it is this which makes The Leopard such a great film: it is so clearly an expression of Visconti's own soul searching and anxieties about a time with which he was becoming increasingly disillusioned.
The third essential element which makes The Leopard what it is - one of the greatest
films ever made - is paradoxically the thing which very nearly ruined the film and contributed
to its commercial failure. It may have seemed like pure folly at the time to cast
Burt Lancaster in the role of the film's central character but, seeing the end result,
it is impossible to imagine anyone else in the part. Lancaster, best known for his
tough action roles in Hollywood westerns, brings to the film a humanity and
gravitas which Visconti could not have hoped to find in any other actor. Ironically,
Visconti initially had a very bad working relationship with Lancaster, mainly because
20th Century Fox, who co-financed the film, insisted on him having a big name American
actor in the leading role. In spite of these ructions, and even though he is dubbed
into Italian, Lancaster is superlative as the introspective Prince Don Fabrizio Salina,
arguably the high point in a very respectable acting career.
Although the film belongs to Burt Lancaster, the talent of his co-stars Alain Delon and Claudia Cardinale - both in the first flush of youth - shines through in nearly every one of their scenes. Whereas Lancaster symbolises the old order, the exuberant Delon and Cardinale represent the new age of political compromise, of optimism and egalitarianism. Each of the three actors leaves a lasting impression and, together, they provide a major factor in the film's standing as a work of great significance.
Although now almost universally acknowledged as Visconti's masterpiece, The Leopard has been tarnished by its chequered history. Whilst it initially fared quite well in Europe, even winning the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival in 1963, it was virtually obliterated in America. The film's three and a half-hour run time was deemed excessive by its American distributors, and so it had around forty minutes hacked out of it, with as much finesse as someone taking a blunt chisel to the Mona Lisa. Worse, it was transferred to an inferior print - instantly dulling its Technicolor and Technirama brilliance - and dubbed into American. No wonder the film sank like lead balloon. Recently, various attempts to restore the film have been made and although a full recreation of the original film has yet to be achieved, technological advances have vastly improved the sound and picture quality. At last, we can appreciate The Leopard in all its glory, savour its sumptuous cinematography, admire Luchino Visconti's direction and be totally captivated by Burt Lancaster's exquisite performance. The masterpiece lives again.