On April 30, Ron Galella, the king of the American paparazzi, died, one who knew how to fight with the actors like our King, Rino Barillari, hospitalized more than 140 times for countless fistfights. If the first duel was with Marlon Brando, the second was hit by Walter Chiari, a former amateur boxer.
The 60s, roaring years where the actors still played the role of the stars to whom almost everything was allowed. They were often publicity stunts, rarely something personal.
Years in which the machine of culture began to grow consistently thanks to extraordinary characters, who were publishers, writers, screenwriters, painters and a few journalists of high lineage. Each group had its own bar of reference: Rosati in Piazza del Popolo, Doney or Carpano in Via Veneto, to finish at the legendary Aragno in Via del Corso, already the scene of anti-fascist meetings at the temple of the twenty years. Intellectuals who mingled with each other and transacted from one bar to another and then ended up at Otello, a restaurant in Via della Croce, undisputed kingdom of Mario Monicelli.
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It was the end of the "Dolce Vita", born in the 50s, when Cinecittà was the "Hollywood on the Tiber"; it was the last glimpse, of a mixed cultural fertility with Goliardic recklessness, caught at the last gasp by Federico Fellini together with that genius of aphorisms that was Ennio Flaiano. And if the disputes between intellectuals, especially among writers who notoriously hate each other to death, They were resolved with strokes of jokes mocking and lightning calembour was precisely thanks to the latter, equipped with sagacity sometimes stinging, that gave humor its cultural dignity for the way it labeled characters who usually duet in hendecasyllables and poetate in tercets. Thus Alberto Moravia, struck in his youth by a mild polio, became: "The Amaro Gambarotta", just as Vincenzo Cardarelli was baptized as "The greatest dying poet". He did not spare himself either and in front of the initial flop of his novel "A Martian in Rome", today continually quoted, he said with an unforgettable: "Failure has given me to the head".
This is the fabric of the culture of that time, of which today it remains a miserable thing!
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The show, exhilarating and at the same time pathetic, offered by the "fight" between Vittorio Sgarbi and Giampiero Mughini, well-known children of a minor TV, at the Teatro Parioli on the occasion of an episode of the "Maurizio Costanzo Show" It is proof of the miserly smallness of the present intellectual class of our times. No matter who is wrong and who is right, if it is true that sometimes the form is substance well, here you are in front of the total mental vacuum where not even a single neuron finds a home. The only excuse, given their age, is that they suffered a sudden drop in blood sugar, in front of which is an infinite penalty. But there is no trace of apology on either side.
On the other hand if the TV Talk Shows are passed off as places of culture instead of being declined for what they really are, or circuses with the usual "tour company" similar to that of the Freaks, always ready to turn into verbal brawl any attempt to deepen, It is not surprising then if two arrogant "gentlemen", puffed up of their arrogance and pushed by their small egocentric world, come to your hands for having said an "imbecile" too.
Pathetic figures without a hint of self-irony!
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