Franco Zeffirelli, Brother Sun Sister Moon: Old School Reviews

Brother Sun, Sister Moon (1972)

Director: Franco Zeffirelli

Stars: Graham Faulkner, Alec Guinness

Release Company: Paramount Pictures

MPAA Rating: PG

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Towards the end of the 1960s and the beginning of the 1970s a number of film directors attempted to grab hold of the hippie culture, but few captured its essence. Most ended up looking silly with their lame attempts to exploit the market. For every success like Easy Rider there were multiple flops like The Strawberry Statement and Alice's Restaurant. Among the very worst was Franco Zeffirelli's flower child take on medieval Italy, personifying Saint Francis of Assisi as chief hippie guru and using Donovan as his minstrel—Brother Sun, Sister Moon (Fratello sole, sorella luna). (Distributors must have been so embarrassed by the songs that they never did release a soundtrack album)

There is a scene—I kid you not—mostly long shots with young Francesco (Graham Faulkner) literally skipping through the flowers to one of Donovan's sentimental ditties. No wonder the people in the film all think Francesco is mad. He's not skipping through the poppy field towards the Emerald City on a yellow brick road, but prancing around the flowers to ludicrously lame Donovan tunes by himself like a loony in a Monty Python sketch. Sadly, Zeffirelli never meant to make a comedy.

Of course, I must confess to being a bit crazy/masochistic to have watched this three times during my lifetime, but I kept forgetting how bad the film is. That and the fact that I kept hoping that I had been wrong previously since Zeffirelli has been the creative force behind other excellent films—Romeo and Juliet, The Taming of the Shrew, and Jesus of Nazareth. I won't make that mistake again. Brother Sun, Sister Moon had been out of print for a few years (for good reason), and is not likely to be a candidate for DVD release—unless some distributor decides a retrospective of 60's culture parodies is in order.

The film's not a total wash out. Zeffirelli uses a real actor to play Pope Innocent III in the scene that has most resonance, but Sir Alec Guinness wears a beard and disguises himself with enough make-up that most won't recognize him. After an hour and twenty minutes of banal dialogue, preposterous "conversions" on the part of Francesco's boyhood buddies, and inept acting the Zeffirelli attempts to cover with emotive Donovan music, it was a shock to witness actual depth in the final scene with the Pope. Too bad Guinness has only that one short scene.

Most of the burden falls upon young Faulkner, who debuts in this film understandably only worked in a handful of other projects afterwards. His pretty boy face conveys the innocence that Zeffirelli was striving for, but the director can't hide his amateurish acting behind Donovan's inane verses despite a long sequence where Francesco goes on a silent strike. Attempting to wordlessly capture St. Francis' faith matches the historical facts, as the saint once convinced a Muslim sheik to spare his life through the sincerity of his faith; however, Faulkner tries too hard in an excruciating acting exercise. He comes across insincerely as little more than a stereotype of hippie ideals—he sings with the birds, catches butterflies, and gazes at flowers.

Zeffirelli provides a few historical accuracies, however. Shooting in St. Francis of Assisi's actual haunts in the Umbrian hills, hints of Francesco's youthful hedonism are present, and Zeffirelli includes a well-known naked scene in front of the bishop and gets across the idea that Francesco mainly seeks Truth and endeavors to live a Christ-like life. Including admiring Clare as a female aspiring for the same spiritual quest also remains true to the historical record, as does the whole barefooted ascetic order (as long as you ignore the singing chorus line that begs for their suppers).

As usual the director includes beautiful and nicely framed photography from northern Italy. Unfortunately, it's not enough to overcome an inane script, inept acting, and Donovan's syrupy music. Contracting the man that inflicted the planet with "Mellow Yellow" to create the musical score must rank among the worst filmmaking decisions in history. It could've been worse, however. To match the musical flower skipping scene, Zeffirelli might have selected Tiny Tim! Seek Roberto Rossellini's far stronger The Flowers of St. Francis for an introduction to the enigmatic saint.