If you think that hard work is the key to success, then brace yourself: "Chi lavora è perduto", a 1963 film by Italian director Tinto Brass, disagrees in the most unorthodox way. This film, set in post-war Italy, challenges the often glorified narrative surrounding work and its supposed virtues. Brass portrays the monotonous routine of a young graduate, Bonifacio, trapped in a society that demands productivity at the expense of personal satisfaction and freedom. By turning the notion of work on its head, Brass invites audiences to question the blind faith many have in the grindstone of employment, a concept which is a hard pill to swallow for those who see hard work as an almost religious duty.
The film title translates to "He Who Works is Lost", and from its onset, it forces a controversial discussion about the role of work in our lives. In a world where working extra hours is often seen as a badge of honor, this film's narrative becomes an assault on the prideful workaholic. Bonifacio's character is trapped in a web spun by societal expectations, familial pressures, and the supposed moral obligation to work without questioning. Not so different from the modern job market, where skills are supreme but only if they feed the economy's insatiable beast.
Now let's talk about Bonifacio: a university graduate who becomes the embodiment of hesitation and existential dread. As he meanders through life trying to find his place, he’s encouraged by friends, family, and the ever-abiding sense of duty to find a job and contribute to society. Yet, for a film made in the '60s, it strikingly captures the modern dilemma: what if a job isn't the pathway to happiness?
Brass uses the character of Bonifacio to mock the unquestionable virtue of employment. And why not? We're fed the narrative that one's life purpose is to work until we die, with a short retirement break in between if we make it that far. It's laughable when you think about it—an entire life-cycle designed around clocking in and out, only to maintain an economic system that thrives on labor rather than fulfillment.
Of course, the film employs dark humor, absurd scenarios, and a cinematographic style that borders on the surreal to take jabs at societal norms. This isn’t a kind-hearted romantic film where all ends well because the protagonist finds love, purpose, and a six-figure salary. This is a film that screams in your face, “Shouldn't we want better for our lives than the mere act of working?”
Brass engages us with a candid portrayal of work as a societal construct designed to bind individuals to a wheel of drudgery. Bonifacio's struggles are a metaphor for the chains that come with the belief that labor equals value. Conservatives would argue that hard work builds character, but this film flips that script. It provokes us to consider the character one might build if one stepped off the hamster wheel of employment for a moment.
Surely this film was ahead of its time: questioning the very essence of what it means to work long before the rise of the gig economy or the remote work revolution. It brings to the table an age-old debate that still persists about whether life is worth living laboriously.
Why is this significant today? Because we live in a society that equates career success with personal success, often missing the forest for the trees. Did the character of Bonifacio find his soul while clutching his paycheck? Critics might dismiss this as an anti-establishment rant, but maybe, just maybe, it's time to re-evaluate what we truly want out of life.
"Chi lavora è perduto" throws a wrench into the system, criticizing the assumption that perpetual employment is a universal good. It portrays Bonifacio's non-conformity as a radical act of resistance against a life prescripted by convention rather than a pursuit of self-fulfillment.
This film wasn't made for those who want a pat on the back for sticking to mainstream life paths. It's a sarcastic nod to human resilience in the face of industrial capitalism that's as relevant today as it was sixty years ago. There's a beauty in the burnout shown in the film—a raw, uncensored look at the inevitable outcome of deifying work. If anything, "Chi lavora è perduto" remains a daring piece that begs us to pause and ponder: Isn't a life fulfilled better than a life fully employed?
So here’s the hard truth brazenly laid out by Brass: Those who miss out on seeking life's higher purpose might indeed truly be lost, and perhaps it's time we start acknowledging that timeliness and turnover aren't the keys to a genuinely good life.