Politics was the entire point, not a side project.
Na manhã de quinta-feira, Roma despediu-se de Lina Wertmüller, cineasta que aos 93 anos encerrou uma trajetória singular na história do cinema mundial. Ela foi a primeira mulher indicada ao Oscar de Melhor Direção — distinção conquistada em 1977 por 'Sete Belezas' — e construiu uma obra que recusou o conforto da neutralidade, transformando a tela em arena de disputas políticas, de classe e de gênero. Sua morte não é apenas a perda de uma artista; é o fechamento de um capítulo em que o cinema italiano ousou questionar a si mesmo e ao mundo.
- A primeira mulher a romper a barreira da indicação ao Oscar de Direção se foi, reacendendo o debate sobre quanto ainda falta percorrer no caminho da representatividade feminina no cinema.
- Sua filmografia dos anos 1970 — carregada de sátira, anarquismo e crítica de classe — provocou desconforto deliberado em plateias e críticos, e esse incômodo nunca foi totalmente resolvido.
- O Oscar honorário concedido em 2019 reconheceu tardiamente uma influência que já havia moldado gerações de cineastas engajados ao redor do mundo.
- O ministro da Cultura italiano Dario Franceschini lamentou publicamente a perda, sinalizando que o Estado reconhece nela não apenas uma artista, mas um patrimônio cultural insubstituível.
- Seu legado permanece vivo e disputado — um lembrete de que o cinema mais poderoso é aquele que se recusa a separar a forma do conteúdo político.
Lina Wertmüller morreu na manhã de quinta-feira em Roma, aos 93 anos, deixando para trás uma carreira que redesenhou os contornos do cinema europeu. Nascida com o extenso nome Arcangela Felice Assunta Wertmüller von Elgg Spanol von Braueich, ela começou sua trajetória como assistente de Federico Fellini nas filmagens de '8 1/2', nos anos 1960 — uma escola privilegiada que a colocou no coração do neorrealismo italiano. Sua estreia como diretora, em 1963, com 'I basilischi', já anunciava uma voz própria, reconhecida no Festival de Locarno.
Foi nos anos 1970, porém, que Wertmüller se afirmou como uma das cineastas mais ousadas de sua geração. Em parceria com o ator Giancarlo Giannini, ela produziu filmes que usavam a comédia e o melodrama para dissecar poder, desejo e contradição social. 'Mimi, o Metalúrgico' (1972) satirizava a máfia siciliana; 'Amor e Anarquia' explorava a libertação política e sexual; 'Swept Away' (1974) transformava o naufrágio de classe em duelo de gênero. Em 1976, 'Sete Belezas' — sobre um napolitano sobrevivendo ao horror de um campo de concentração — rendeu quatro indicações ao Oscar, incluindo a histórica nomeação de Wertmüller como Melhor Diretora, a primeira mulher a receber tal reconhecimento da Academia.
Sua cinematografia nunca buscou consenso. Ela tratava feminismo, anarquismo e o fascismo cotidiano não como conceitos abstratos, mas como experiências inscritas nos corpos e nos rituais sociais. Em 2019, a Academia lhe concedeu um Oscar honorário por sua contribuição ao cinema — reconhecimento tardio de uma influência que já havia atravessado décadas e fronteiras. Com sua morte, encerra-se um capítulo da história do cinema que permanece, ao mesmo tempo, inacabado e essencial.
Lina Wertmüller, the first woman ever nominated for the Academy Award for Best Director, died Thursday morning in Rome at ninety-three. The Italian filmmaker's death marks the end of a career that fundamentally altered the landscape of European cinema and challenged the male-dominated world of directing with uncompromising political vision and formal innovation.
Wertmüller was born Arcangela Felice Assunta Wertmüller von Elgg Spanol von Braueich in Rome on August 14, 1928. She began her professional life in cinema as an assistant to Federico Fellini on his masterpiece "8 1/2" during the early 1960s—a position that placed her at the center of Italian neorealism's final flowering. Her own directorial debut came in 1963 with "I basilischi," a neorealist-inflected work that won recognition at the Locarno Film Festival in Switzerland, announcing her arrival as a serious creative force.
Throughout the 1970s, Wertmüller produced a series of formally audacious and politically charged films that established her as one of the most important directors working in any country. She collaborated repeatedly with actor Giancarlo Giannini, creating a body of work that used comedy, satire, and melodrama as vehicles for examining power, desire, and social contradiction. "Mimi the Metalworker," released in 1972, deployed dark humor to critique the Sicilian mafia and regional customs. "Love and Anarchy" followed, exploring anarchist politics and sexual liberation with characteristic boldness. In 1974, she released "Swept Away," a savage satire of class warfare and gender relations that remains one of her most discussed and debated films.
The 1976 film "Seven Beauties"—her collaboration with Giannini that brought her international prominence—became her most celebrated work. The film, which examined fascism, survival, and human dignity through the story of a Neapolitan man navigating the horrors of a concentration camp, received four Academy Award nominations, including one for Wertmüller as Best Director. That nomination made her the first woman in history to be recognized in that category by the Academy, a distinction that would define her public legacy even as her films continued to provoke and challenge audiences.
Wertmüller's cinema was never interested in comfort or consensus. She shared the Italian screen with Liliana Cavani, one of the few other women directing significant work in Italian cinema during the 1960s and 1970s, but Wertmüller's approach was distinctly her own—more overtly political, more formally playful, more willing to embrace contradiction and ambiguity. Her films addressed feminism, anarchism, the relationship between wealth and morality, and the persistence of fascism in everyday life. She treated these subjects not as abstract ideas but as lived experiences embedded in bodies, desires, and social rituals.
In 2019, the Academy honored Wertmüller with an honorary Oscar in recognition of her lifetime achievement and her immeasurable influence on cinema. By then, she had been largely absent from directing for decades, yet her work remained a touchstone for filmmakers interested in politically engaged cinema that refused to separate form from content. Italy's Minister of Culture, Dario Franceschini, released a statement mourning her death, describing her as a director whose "incomparable class and style" had left a permanent mark on Italian cinema and the world. Her passing closes a chapter in film history that remains vital and contested—a reminder that cinema's greatest power lies not in entertainment alone, but in its capacity to make visible the structures of power and desire that shape human life.
Citações Notáveis
A director who with her incomparable class and style left a permanent mark on our cinematography and on the world— Italian Minister of Culture Dario Franceschini
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does it matter that she was the first woman nominated for Best Director? Wasn't that just a historical accident?
It wasn't an accident—it was a barrier. For decades, the Academy had been awarding Best Director to men exclusively. Wertmüller broke through that wall, but the fact that it took until 1976 for a woman to even be nominated tells you something about who was allowed to hold power in cinema.
But her films themselves seem to be about power and class. Was she making political cinema intentionally?
Absolutely. She wasn't making political films as a side project. Politics was the entire point. "Seven Beauties" isn't a war film that happens to have political themes—it's a film about how fascism and survival reshape human beings. Every frame is arguing something.
What made her different from other Italian directors of her time?
She was willing to be ugly about it. Other directors might explore similar themes with more restraint or lyricism. Wertmüller used satire, dark comedy, even grotesque imagery. She didn't soften the blow.
Did audiences embrace that approach?
Some did, some didn't. "Swept Away" is a perfect example—it's a brilliant film about class and gender, but it's also deliberately provocative and uncomfortable. That's not a bug in her work; it's the feature. She wanted to disturb you into thinking.
And after the 1970s, she stopped directing?
Largely, yes. The industry changed, funding dried up, and she became less visible. But her influence never disappeared. Anyone making politically engaged cinema owes something to what she proved was possible.