Tea at Trianon: The Leopard (2025)

John Wilson Croker on Marie-Antoinette

"We have followed the history of Marie Antoinette with the greatest diligence and scrupulosity. We have lived in those times. We have talked with some of her friends and some of her enemies; we have read, certainly not all, but hundreds of the libels written against her; and we have, in short, examined her life with– if we may be allowed to say so of ourselves– something of the accuracy of contemporaries, the diligence of inquirers, and the impartiality of historians, all combined; and we feel it our duty to declare, in as a solemn a manner as literature admits of, our well-matured opinion that every reproach against the morals of the queen was a gross calumny– that she was, as we have said, one of the purest of human beings."

~from History of the Guillotine by John Wilson Croker, 1844

Edmund Burke on Marie-Antoinette

"It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely there never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she had just begun to move in, glittering like a morning star full of life and splendor and joy. Oh, what a revolution....Little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fall upon her, in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honor and of cavaliers! I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards, to avenge even a look which threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded...."

~Edmund Burke, October 1790

Saturday, February 28, 2026

The Leopard (2025)

Netflix's 'The Leopard' Teaser Sends the High Society of Sicily Into Disarray

It tells us something about how elites seek to retain their power': How Lampedusa's The Leopard skewered the super-rich

If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change. ~The Leopard

The 1963 Visconti film The Leopard (Il Gattapardo), based upon the novel by Giuseppe de Lampedusa about his great grandfather, is an undoubted masterpiece. Both the novel and 1963 film depict the struggles of a princely Sicilian family, under the leadership of their patriarch Don Fabrizio, to navigate the Revolution, called in Italy Il Risorgimento. Il Risorgimento (1848-1870) also labelled the unification of Italy, involved the dominance of the House of Savoy over the other principalities of the Italian peninsula, including the ancient Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, likewise known as the Kingdom of Naples and Sicily. The unification was a violent process led by the masonic revolutionary Giuseppe Garibaldi and his Red Shirts. Don Fabrizio, Prince of Salina, peer of the Sicilian Kingdom, must make some hard decisions in order to protect his wife and children, while salvaging his patrimony and preserving his honor. This is no small task in an era of war and of swiftly changing loyalties amid political upheaval. Luchino Visconti, in spite of being a Communist, crafted an authentic yet transcendent portrayal of a family in crisis, set to a magnificent score by Nino Rota. The 1963 film has become for many the defining depiction of Il Risorgimento. It certainly has been for me, until I recently decided to watch the Netflix series based on Il Gattapardo. The 2025 version is a masterpiece in its own right.

From The National Review:

The new series is in the grand tradition, with all the cinematic bells and whistles (no matter that I watched it on my laptop). Wikipedia says this:

Principal photography began in April 2023. Filming took place over 105 days and required the use of 5,000 extras; 130 carriages, carts and boats; 100 animals; and 12 animal trainers.

A friend of mine (Italian) said, “The real star of the show is Sicily.” She makes a good point. I’m not sure that Sicily has ever been more beautiful or alluring than in this show. The Netflix Leopard is a feast for the eyes. Almost indecently sumptuous. The flowers, the lemon groves, the palazzos — the food! And, of course, the people: the principal actors and actresses. Gorgeous people, on a gorgeous island, gorgeously shot. That is a commendation already.

The title character — the prince, the Leopard, also known as Don Fabrizio — is portrayed by Kim Rossi Stuart. (One of his grandparents was Scottish. He was named for Kipling’s title character.) Stuart’s prince is suave, worldly, world-weary, charismatic — every inch a prince, really.

Tancredi, that Garibaldian rascal, is played by Saul Nanni, born in 1999. I came to detest the character — not because the actor does anything wrong but because I wanted Tancredi to do right by Concetta and Angelica (and he does right by neither). Do you ever try to “edit” a movie, so as to make it come out right, by your lights? Life can be frustrating, onscreen as off . . .

Concetta is Benedetta Porcaroli, who reminds me of Lady Di, as we knew her, before she became a princess. Angelica is Deva Cassel, born in 2004. Signorina, or Mademoiselle, Cassel is the daughter of Vincent Cassel (the French actor) and Monica Bellucci (the Italian model and actress). How ugly can she be, I ask you? Angelica in this series is sex on wheels — a danger to young men, old men, and, you could say, herself.
Don Calogero is portrayed by Francesco Colella. The character is supposed to be a villain of the piece, and in a way he is: he behaves badly. But many do. And he is a man born poor who is trying to rise in the world: trying to have some of the money, influence, and power that the likes of Don Fabrizio have dropped into their laps at birth. (Read more.)

One would think that a film about Sicilian aristocrats would have nothing to say to American audiences. Yet the story is essentially about family cohesion in a rapidly changing world, to which just about anyone alive today can relate. Dysfunctional dynamics can haunt palaces as well as cottages, with petty jealousies, spousal disagreements, infidelities. But devotion and sacrifice are also there, as well as shared jokes and effervescent joy. Most of all the roles of the father and the mother in keeping the family together, in spite of their personal issues, are inspiring.

At the core of the story is Don Fabrizio's daughter Concetta, a devout and disciplined principessa, convent-bred, who is in love with her cousin Tancredi. In the course of the series, Concetta is faced with painful choices, but in spite of being as passionate and headstrong as the men in the family, chooses the most noble courses of action. Both her suffering and contentment are projected in her jewel-like eyes, even while her modest and dignified bearing attempt to hide her emotions.

Fabrizio himself tries to follow the traditional code of chivalry. His patriarchal duties, especially the duty to protect his family, are second nature to him. When the mayor's daughter, the magnificent Angelica, hints that being his mistress would not be distasteful to her, the Prince lightly dismisses the idea, ignoring his own desire for the girl. He encourages her to marry his nephew, knowing that will be the best thing for everyone. He comes as close as he can to her in a single waltz, in which he maintains a gentlemanly reserve. Meanwhile, the new order has triumphed, as the characters dance in resplendent, frescoed rooms built by the old order.

There is one glimpse of boudoir activity which renders the series unsuitable for children. It would be odd to make a series about Sicily without scenes of religious faith. The Leopard is full of displays of piety, such as when the family prays the rosary together, although in the old film they were kneeling, not sitting. But there is certainly more Catholic imagery than there is sex. The family chaplain is in practically every scene, along with discussions of heaven and hell. The visuals are stunning on a life-changing level; the costumes prove that authenticity and artistry can work side-by-side. It shows what beauty Netflix can produce when willing to do so.