First it was British period drama dangled in front of us, and like hungry, caged beasts, we devoured it. To be honest, we couldn't get over Downton Abbey and then The Crown. In 2020, the US producer Shonda Rhimes ignited Regency England with love, lust, intrigue, soapy storylines, politically-correct casting and orchestral covers of pop hits to create Bridgerton. And how we lapped it up, with modern-days celebs throwing Bridgerton-theme parties even. But lately, having completely juiced the British 18th century era, streamers and screenwriters are delving into European history and heritage.
Since the aristocracy lived in the same kind of opulence and decadence all over Europe, it wasn’t too difficult to find stories around power-hungry kings and princes, defiant princesses, and nasty villains who beheaded people faster than they sneezed. Out came stories of passion in palaces, love, intrigue, deceit, drama, revenge, political shenanigans, prisoners rotting in dungeons, femme fatales to pamper the princes in vivid contrast to banquets, ballroom dances and battles. The Empress (about the life of Empress Elisabeth of Austria) and The Leopard (based on the novel by Giuseppe di Lampedusa) are two such shows that created waves.
Why do we love watching historical drama offerings so much? Beyond the bit of escapism around the decadence and opulence of speeding stallions across lush meadows, flowy gowns and frilly bonnets, meticulous maids, flashing swords and chopped off heads, these shows are often based on books and have solid storylines, hence they sell internationally and do not date like modern themes or stories do.
After watching Adolescence, I was looking for some stuff to recover from the disturbing masterpiece, something light that would take away its compelling sadness, entertain and have some substance too. I luckily landed on The Leopard and found out that it had both the required qualities.
The Leopard, originally Il Gattopardo, is an adaptation of Lampedusa’s novel that sparked heated discussions after its posthumous publication in 1958. The competing viewpoints of its characters led some to criticise it as conservative, while others insisted it was a ruthless attack on the upper classes.
The novel’s author was a Prince of Lampedusa whose bloodline had declined under the Risorgimento, and his own title, established in the 1660s, survived only a few years after his death.
Set against the social revolution in Sicily, during the period of Risorgimento in the 1860s, however at the end of the unification of Italy, Victor Emmanuel II had been proclaimed as king. “Sicily is no longer just an island,” Tancredi (Saul Nanni) tells the Prince of Salina’s love-struck daughter Concetta (Benedetta Porcaroli), “but part of a nation.”
The series generously offers sumptuous visuals, sensuous innuendo, and a story woven with political and historical detail. There are scenes with spectacular landscapes of Sicily, tables laden with delectable food, stunning women in fabulous dresses and even the men, led by the titular character himself, more than qualify for eye candy. Central to the entire saga is a love triangle that creates enough intrigue, twists and turns to keep you hooked for the six episodes of the series.
For those of us who don’t have a clue about Italian history, The Leopard offers a history lesson from Sicily and an insight into the violent endeavours behind the unification of Italy. The story from 19th century Europe is about the House of Bourbon that ruled Sicily for 100 years, until the rebels who want to unify Italy head towards the island of Sicily from the northern part of the region, led by a general named Garibaldi.
Of course, for us it isn’t to understand a storyline where we see that the old regime of hereditary landowners is just not prepared to give up feudalism and their luxurious lifestyle to industrialisation, and allow a transfer of power from the conservative order to the unscrupulous liberal bourgeoisie.
The storyline may be set in history, but the question it puts across will always be relevant to humanity. When change is inevitable, does one accept and adapt or does one fight for what we always claimed as our comfort zone?
Earlier in 1963, Luchino Visconti won the Palme d’Or for his film The Leopard, which starred Burt Lancaster, Alain Delon and Claudia Cardinale. But in the series, 55-year-old Italian actor and director Kim Rossi Stuart, apparently, the Italian equivalent of Paul Newman, and also one of the finest actors of his generation, plays Don Fabrizio Corbera, Prince of Salina or “The Leopard.” Fabrizio is reluctant to give up power to the new kingdom and the story revolves around his political manouevres to save his family, power and name.
“I’m not sure if this world of politics fascinates or repels me,” Fabrizio muses as he begins to realise how daunting it was becoming to protect his legacy — Stuart’s icy blue eyes are haunting in this scene.
The love triangle is between Fabrizio’s daughter Concetta, Fabrizio’s nephew Tancredi, and Angelica Sedara, played by the 20-year-old drop-dead gorgeous Italian-French model and actor Deva Cassel. Angelica is a middle-class woman who becomes a catalyst of social disruption. The role was originally played by Cardinale, but Cassel has also done an amazing job, being intimidatingly beautiful and talented as well.
The scenes between Concetta and Tancredi, where Concetta’s love remains unrequited until it is too late, were well acted, as were those between Tancredi and his uncle Fabrizio. Stuart in the title role is fabulous throughout the series because one couldn’t imagine a better casting, but in the last episode, when he knows he is losing power as well as his life, he truly flaunts his craft.
One finds it interesting that cousin marriages weren’t frowned upon in Italy then as they are now throughout the West. Also, there is some rather sizzling chemistry between the wicked Angelica and Fabrizio himself, that inevitably reminded me of the forbidden love-triangle between a nephew, an uncle, and his second wife in the Turkish blockbuster serial Ishq-e-Mamnoo!
It is being said that not since The Godfather has there been such a great combination of drama and passion in an authentic Italian setting.
While Netflix is reported to have spent around £40 million on making 19th-century Sicily, The Leopard had one flaw, at least for me. I feel that costume dramas are often sprawling and sometimes pay so much attention to art, sets, and camera work that they often overlook that to put all that in requires many episodes and this might make the story lag. This is what went wrong with Leopard. The intrigue, drama, conflict and ensuing twists and turns would have been just fine in four episodes instead of six.