Minister Giuli in front of a disheveled ideological army

Alessandro Giuli 's superiority over his interlocutors is so evident that one wonders why he spends his time arguing with them. Someone who knows how to masterfully decipher archaic Italian and Mediterranean myths, and has been making incursions into the sacred and the profane since he was wearing shorts, an expert on the golden section and the battle of Talamone, someone like that can barely understand the dimension in which an actor like Elio Germano moves, fresh from an artistic and commercial flop like the film on Berlinguer, a banal sentimental interpretation of a false political myth, compensated only by the ridiculous cinematic lobbying of ideological propaganda dear to the usual people of the usual environment, those who inflate the balloons of non-authors and non-actors. I saw a trailer and I felt a bit sorry for the great Germano and for the critics who praise his charisma as a social club in the far suburbs, a perfect place to play ping pong and for other praiseworthy community activities but not for the history of cinema.

Said with respect for the person, for his profession and for the gigantic understanding of himself that he tried to convey to the character he played. But man does not live by efforts alone. The Great Ambition is not so much Great as Excessive . I would understand a polemic with Moretti, who gets many things wrong but gets some really right, and who has a language at his disposal that is not too elementary and basic . But for the rest, frankly, I would leave aside responding to the militant commitment of the tax credit when you have in your hands the Superintendencies, the museums, the libraries, music, the theater and Pompeii or the scrolls of Herculaneum.

It is not a question of haughtiness. The Ministry of Culture, and it is no coincidence that it was established by Giovanni Spadolini, a leader who is certainly very ambitious, is a delicate matter, it is worth as much as foreign and defense policy, it has a powerful identity endowment in a country like Italy, and Giuli is the first to know that it cannot be spent with pennies, that it is worth a work of study and excavation destined to build something other than bridges or disfigurements on the shabby stage of the firmament of signature or, as Mario Scelba said, of the culturame (one of the most pregnant definitions in the history of national political custom, because the great Scelba – remember – is not only the institution of the riot police and the law dissolving neo-fascism). Culturame today is widespread everywhere, everything is culture and the mass artist groans, increasingly misunderstood, increasingly tormented, increasingly hypocritical. I think that we must retreat from certain conflicts while there is still time. The Germanos and the Montanaris are respectable cultural operators who go beyond the demands of art and their own studiousness to sink into a rancorous rearguard spirit . They are people who ruin ideas by handling them in a Garibaldian way, with a true tone of the Ministry of Popular Culture, of a regime that frames and dispenses good and bad, to which the institutions, the most burdensome and important, must refuse to oppose their own tone, to be kept for serious matters. Minister Franceschini, in my opinion an excellent administrator and politician, kept these disheveled ideological armies at bay with appropriate concessions and dissuasions, to generally deal with more serious matters, as Spadolini did. This is also expected from the superiority of Giuli, who reminds them, as in the famous post-Freudian quip, that they do not have an inferiority complex, they are truly inferior.

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