Tonight I saw Bernardo Bertolucci’s movie “The Conformist”.
I’ve never read Moravia’s novel on which the movie is based.
Bertolucci’s movie is about a man, Marcello Clerici, without convictions – careerist is too big of a word for him – a man who becomes a fascist because fascism is the flavor of the month.
Although Clerici has an eye for the beauty of women even sex doesn’t arouse passion in him.
The conformist is a man without much of a passion, but he doesn’t seem to suffer from this lack of enthusiasm.
At the end he does nurse a passion for self-preservation.