Erb, Cynthia. "'Have You Ever Seen the Inside of One of Those Places?': Psycho, Foucault, and the Postwar Context of Madness." Cinema Journal 45.4 (2006) 45-63.

Erb's article examines the post World War II phenomenon of deinstitutionalization. Occurring after several exposes brought to light the poor conditions and decrepitude of mental institutions as well as several films that featured institutions in a negative light, deinstitutionalization came about because of both the financial pressures that were acknowledged by the federal government and the moral questions that were raised by the public. The shifting attitude toward institutionalization was also affected by the influx of veterans with traumatic stress disorders and acquired nervous conditions after World War II. The idea that many people in society were afflicted with mental disorders, not only a select few, dramatically changed the perception of mental illness within the United States.

Erb goes onto argue that while films like Spellbound use mental illness as a tool to advance the plot and feature mental afflictions that are easily “cured” within the course of the film, Hitchcock’s later works The Wrong Man (1956), Vertigo (1958), and Psycho (1960) all address mental illness and instability as something that cannot be cured and that remains with people beyond the duration of films. This idea of extending the boundaries of mental confusion not only applies to the direct portrayal of mental illness within Hitchcock’s films, but also to the treatment of surrealist sequences and motifs within Spellbound and Psycho. Like the treatment of mental illness, Erb notes that the use of surrealism in Spellbound is also completely contained to a single sequence. It begins and it ends and after the specific sequence has finished, surrealist dream sequences never again plague the afflicted John Ballantine. However, in Psycho, a later Hitchcock film, there is no contained surrealist sequence. Instead, several surrealist images sporadically appear throughout the film. Through his evolving treatment of both mental illness and surrealism, Hitchcock reflects the public’s shifting view that mental illness is not easily contained or cured.

Is Life Beautiful? Can the Shoah Be Funny? Some Thoughts on Recent and Older Films

Sander Gilman toils with the confusing emotional relationship between horror and humor, investigating the links between the two in regard to the Holocaust.  He sets up a distinction between the reality of the Holocaust, which demands seriousness, and the representation of the Holocaust, siting scholars such as Terrence Des Pres, who believes that humor can be used as a coping mechanism. Gilman looks at various films about the Holocaust and the works of various Jewish comedians in order to propagate that approaching the Holocaust by way of humor is rarely attempted, as laughter is not the socially constructed reaction.  Films that have been successful in political mockery of World War II Fascism such as Charlie Chaplin’s, The Great Dictator, date back to pre-Holocaust production, before such use of comedy was deemed taboo or by a conspicuous Jewish director.     

Gilman turns to Life as Beautiful a successful integration of comedy and the Holocaust because of its human not Jewish appeal and uses Jakob the Liar by Jurek Becker as a means of highlighting its success.  Gilman suggests that the film is “quasi-autobiographical” as it implicates Benigni’s father’s experiences, an Italian non-Jewish soldier.  Gilman speculates that the success of the integration is due to the film’s non-Jewish world that separates the Holocaust from the past and the future. Moreover, the laughter is encouraged because it confirms the success of Guido’s actions to save his son, the more we laugh the better job Guido is doing in protecting his son and if our expectations are fulfilled we feel good about laughing. 

Despite several differences and parallels, Benigni’s film unlike Becker’s, was made in the 1990’s and by a self-conscious non-Jew.  His emphasis on the human tragedy of the Holocaust regardless of religion is something Gilman believes makes his integration of humor and holocaust feasible.  

The well respected movie critic Roger Ebert gives Roberto Benigni’s Life is Beautiful a positive and supportive review, despite its controversial depiction of the Holocaust and its supplemental comedy based and fable-like narrative.  Ebert celebrates the humanistic aspects of the film, viewing the film’s intentions in a much more lighthearted fashion than some of the film’s critics. 

Ebert provides insight into the controversy surrounding the film’s use of humor and the Holocaust by way of information from his first-hand conversation with Benigni at the Toronto Film Festival in which Benigni revealed to Ebert that he offended right wing Italians and left wing critics at Cannes.  Ebert, however, approaches the film as the fictional fable it claims to be rather than a misrepresentation of the Holocaust, praising the film’s “sidestepping of politics in favor of simple human ingenuity.” He suggests that the film is “not about Nazis and Fascists but about the human spirit.” 

In regards to comedy, Ebert rejects the notion that the film makes the Holocaust into comedy, instead suggesting that the film uses comedy as a symbol for paternal devotion.  He believes that the elaborate game constructed by Guido, and his undying humor are his only weapons with which to protect his son. 

Ebert applauds the very optimism that other critics such as Gerald Peary and David Denby of the New Yorker demean.  He believes that the film speaks about hope, future, and the “human conviction.”

Gerald Peary of the Arizona provides an example of one of Benigni’s harsher critics calling his review of the film, “an angry Jewish column.” Indeed, Peary’s highly sarcastic analysis of the film is more visceral and passion-infused than it is a fair and effective critique, but it provides a telling example of the immense opposition that erupted in reaction to the film. 

For example, the first of his list of disapproving commentary on the film is based on his personal and general dislike of Roberto Benigni as a comedian.  He believes he is merely an insecure and vain ham, unworthy of his National acclaim in Italy.  Next, he belittles Benigni’s motivations for the film by, in true Journalistic fashion, skewing his words.  He suggests that Benigni’s “solipsistic reasoning” for the portion of the film that depicts the Holocaust was in order to put his character in an extreme situation, a claim that sheds a harsh and unsympathetic light on Benigni as the film’s creator.  He then proceeds to describe the plot of the film but with a tone that is doubtful of the film’s realism and critical of its illogical unfolding. 

Peary’s main argument, however, is that the film casts an optimistic, feel-good light on the Holocaust.  He acknowledges that the film was never intended to be a documentary, but yet still candy-coats the harsh reality of the Holocaust by focusing only on the survivors and ignoring the horrors of death all together.  Moreover, Peary’s final few sentiments twist his critique into a personal Jewish objection as he scoffs at the Jewish fans of the film.  In sum, his review furiously rejects every aspect of the film, providing a concrete example of why the film created such a controversy upon its release.