PIER PAOLO PASOLINI and The Hawks and the Sparrows Decoded

It is Salo that has had the most articles written about it, and Salo is the one most frequently mentioned. But before this controversial film, the director created numerous other works, often overlooked. Therefore, it is worth shedding light on Pasolini’s biography and one of his lesser-known yet brilliant films, the comedy The Hawks and the Sparrows, which contains many elements characteristic of his entire oeuvre.

Was Pier Paolo Pasolini a provocateur?

In 1968, Roland Barthes urged people not to equate a work with its author at all costs. This method of analysis is, of course, correct, but in Pasolini’s case, one cannot separate the director’s private life from what he conveyed in his films.

Pasolini was born and raised in Bologna, where he also graduated with degrees in Romance philology and art history. During this period, inspired by the writings of Antonio Gramsci, he began his journey with Marxism and communism. Even the death of his brother Guido, murdered in a conflict between communist factions, did not change the director’s beliefs, which he remained faithful to until the end. Pasolini’s early passions, such as painting and literature, also influenced his work as a director and screenwriter.

This is just a brief and very condensed biography of Pasolini. The point is not to delve into the specific stages of the director’s life but to highlight its most important aspects, which are often forgotten. Thus, whenever attempting to evaluate and analyze a film, two things should be kept in mind. First – Pasolini’s beliefs, for whom individual freedom was extremely important, were most likely rooted in his aversion to his father’s nationalist, fascist views, and his support for Mussolini. The director’s relationship with his father, Lieutenant Carlo Alberto Pasolini, which you can read more about in a few available biographies of Pasolini, was never good. Hence his immense love and dependence on his mother, and related to this – his fascination with rural life (Pasolini’s mother came from the countryside, from the Friuli region). His good relationship with his mother influenced, among other things, Pasolini’s fascination with the Friulian dialect (resulting in a collection of poetry). He thus became a staunch opponent of bourgeois hypocrisy, superficial religiosity, and the bourgeoisie, which he later scornfully referred to as “piggishness.” The constant conflict with his father led the young, maturing man to fight fascism at all costs, and his initial dislike turned into obsessive hatred over the years, culminating in the aforementioned film Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom. This film likely contributed to the director’s premature death.

Later elements of the artist’s life, his activities, and his fascinations were further developments of the views shaped in his family home. During his studies, Pasolini became acquainted with the writings of Gramsci – a political leader and co-founder of the Italian Communist Party. However, it wasn’t theory but the opportunity to observe the situation of workers that became the greatest impetus for Pasolini. As he recalled: My anti-fascism was purely aesthetic and cultural, not political. For the second time, I encountered class struggle and immediately sided with the workers. They wore red scarves around their necks, and at that moment, I identified with communism.

Accused of homosexuality, he moved to Rome, where – as a teacher, as well as a recognized writer and painter – he had the opportunity to observe the poorest regions of the “eternal city.” There, fascinated by the lumpenproletariat, he began to actively engage as a fanatical opponent of the right. This interest in the Roman underclass would be evident in Pasolini’s early films.

Literalness and Fiction

Returning, however, to the principles of analyzing the Italian director’s films. Biography thus constitutes the first of two important aspects. The second element to consider is the categorization of films, the rules, and methods used by the director.

As with most creators, Pasolini’s films evolve over the years. In his early proletarian tales (Accattone 1961,

1962), there is a clear fascination with Italian neorealism (Pasolini was a great admirer of Vittorio De Sica). These are later replaced by films like The Decameron (1971), The Canterbury Tales (1972), and Arabian Nights (1974). In these, the director references literature while demonstrating that, although he is an aesthete who loves wide panoramic shots and framing scenes reminiscent of Italian painting (Pasolini credited his artistic fascinations to Roberto Longhi), he is not afraid of ribaldry, biological corporeality, and eroticism. What others see as crossing the boundaries of good taste, Pasolini explains simply – he depicts the world in an extremely literal way because he wants to avoid the fiction that has begun to dominate cinema.

There is not only a divergence in the way his films are presented but also in the variety of genres. Pasolini proves himself as a creator with an extraordinary, though reserved for the select few, sense of humor. This does not mean, however, that the director abandons serious topics. Besides literature, he also references mythology (Oedipus Rex 1967, Medea 1969) as well as Marxist philosophy and Christianity (The Gospel According to St. Matthew 1964, The Hawks and the Sparrows 1966).

It is only in his last film that the director’s anti-fascist views are exaggerated and shocking in their depiction. However, despite Pasolini working in many film genres and changing forms, certain elements in his work remain constant. Besides his distinctive framing style, the recurring theme in the Italian director’s films is his sympathy for the lumpenproletariat, the poor, the rural inhabitants, while simultaneously fighting against bourgeois hypocrisy. He conveys his political views, as already mentioned. Moreover, Pasolini avoids chronology and simple, clear messages. The director’s approach to narration is also characteristic. Objective narration, according to the creator, makes it impossible to create a good film. The fact that cinema, according to Pasolini, must be subjective should not surprise anyone.

The last characteristic feature of the Italian creator’s films worth mentioning is the actors. Pasolini worked with a regular crew, including Franco Citti (incidentally, the brother of Sergio Citti, a screenwriter with whom the director co-created several films) and Ninetto Davoli. And although he did not shy away from engaging prominent figures, such as Maria Callas, he most often worked with amateur actors.

Why do I mention all of this? Pasolini is neither an easy nor a typical creator. Moreover, in his films, he does not try to make things easier for the audience. It is difficult, if not impossible, to engage with any of his films without at least some knowledge of the director’s life and views. A superficial approach to Pasolini’s work will undoubtedly lead to discouragement, boredom, or even outright rejection of this remarkable man’s films for many people.

The Hawks and the Sparrows, Marxism and Christianity Wrapped in Humor

Although my “journey” with Pasolini’s work began with The Canterbury Tales, I believe that it’s best to watch the Italian filmmaker’s works in chronological order. However, this method may not be very appealing, especially to those opposed to Italian neorealism. There is, however, another approach. For those unfamiliar with Pasolini or who perhaps unwisely chose Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom as their introduction to his work but still wish to explore the director from a different perspective, the best option is the comedy The Hawks and the Sparrows. Compared to the rest of Pasolini’s oeuvre, this film is difficult to classify. His later comedies were mostly based on literature and had a completely different character. The themes of Marxism and Christianity, however, had already been addressed in his earlier drama The Gospel According to St. Matthew.

In the historical comedy The Hawks and the Sparrows, we meet two main characters—vagabonds: Innocenti Toto (played by Toto) and his son, Innocenti Ninetto (Ninetto Davoli). During one of their discussions about death, which reveals Ninetto as something of a lighthearted fool, they are joined by a talking crow (voiced by Francesco Leonetti). The bird claims to come from a distant land called Ideology, from Karl Marx Street, with parents named Conscience and Doubt. However, the crow’s words are met with neither understanding nor seriousness. Undeterred by his companions’ mockery, the crow begins to tell the story of monks living in the 13th century. In this tale, Brother Cicillo and Brother Ninetto (once again played by Toto and Ninetto Davoli), chosen by St. Francis, are tasked with converting and teaching two warring species of birds—humble sparrows and arrogant hawks—about God.

Through a seemingly simple and humorous story, Pasolini subtly conveys his personal views, making viewers aware of the similarities between Christianity and Marxist philosophy. Brother Cicillo and Brother Ninetto pray in silence for a year to find a common language to reach the hawks. In reality, only Cicillo truly prays, while Ninetto, although faithful, is unable to focus. When they succeed in showing the hawks that God is their father and wants their love, it’s time to convert the sparrows. This task proves far more challenging. Surrounded by traders, Cicillo and Ninetto find it difficult to pray. Despite Cicillo’s angelic patience, he eventually becomes outraged and drives the merchants away, much like Christ driving the traders from the temple. Although he manages to understand the language of the sparrows, they do not respond to his words. Only the childish Ninetto, who starts playing hopscotch, makes Cicillo realize that these birds communicate by jumping. Pasolini thus demonstrates that learning a language is not enough to achieve understanding. One must also learn the customs of the community. The sparrows are converted, but as the proud men stroll through the fields, they witness a hawk hunting a sparrow, revealing the failure of their teachings.

Although the director portrayed the praying monks in a humorous light, he touched upon very serious themes. Pasolini referenced the crisis of Marxism that occurred in Italy in the 1960s.

Cicillo treats his faith with full commitment. He is patient and believes in the righteousness of his actions. He ignores mockery and taunts, unlike the distracted Ninetto. His Christian attitude can be compared to Marxist beliefs. Cicillo drives away the merchants because he cannot accept the lack of respect for faith and the failure to question its principles. These scenes help to understand the detrimental influence capitalism and consumerism had on people. Despite becoming an atheist at a certain point in his life, Pasolini never criticized faith and regarded Christ as a model revolutionary. When asked why he frequently referenced religion in his films, he responded: I am a non-believer, but one who longs for faith. It’s important to remember that during the time Pasolini made his films, there was a dialogue between representatives of Marxism and Christianity.

Cicillo and Ninetto meet St. Francis, who foretells the coming of a blue-eyed man. He tells them they cannot give up now that society is beginning to recognize the flaws of the current system. It becomes clear that the greatest threat to society is class differences and conflicts between nations. The references to Marxism are evident. The monks continue their teachings. At this point, the crow ends his tale. Despite the men’s clear disdain and inability to grasp the significance of the story, the crow continues to accompany them on their journey.

Class Division and Contraception

In the next stages of their journey, Pasolini finds a way to underscore the problem of class division. Cicillo and Ninetto encounter an extremely poor family that owes them money. The woman, who hasn’t fed her hungry children in days, convinces them it is still night. She survives by eating swallow nests, and when asked who eats such things, she replies, “The Chinese” (a reference to Maoism and a critique of the Great Leap Forward). The men are unmoved by the family’s poverty and demand immediate repayment of the debts. Cicillo, supported by his son, even considers taking their home. When the woman begs for mercy, he coldly responds, Business is business, clear?

As the film progresses, the main characters meet a group of people and witness a play titled “How Rome Destroyed the World,” depicting how the deaths of Christians entertained ancient Romans and how much depended on their decisions. Another obvious allusion.

A childbirth during the play becomes an opportunity for the crow to discuss contraception. He ends with the message: the more unplanned children you have, the more children you cannot care for, the more hunger there will be in the world. Yet again, the men ignore their companion and start singing a cheerful song, “Carmè, Carmè” (written by Toto himself!). The crow begins to understand his lost position. He describes the social situation as “the twilight of great hopes” and calls his companions fools who continue walking without knowing where they are going or what the purpose of their journey is.

Pasolini, who loved observing the lumpenproletariat and dedicated several of his films to it, does not limit himself to depicting only the poor segment of society. The men also find themselves at a Dante Dental Congress—in a wealthy home, and this time, they are the debtors, with no one showing them any leniency. When Cicillo explains that he has eighteen children and speaks of his current unfavorable financial situation, much like the poor woman had earlier justified herself, he hears almost identical words from his creditor: My business is all that matters to me.

In the final stage of their journey, the men pay no attention to the crow. Instead, they use the services of a prostitute they encounter. Although the bird continues trying to teach them something, he is ultimately… eaten.

Pasolini emphasized that he avoided fiction in his films. However, embodying the talking crow allowed him to embed a plethora of political and philosophical themes into this 90-minute film. He addressed the misunderstanding of Marxism, the false interpretation of Christianity, criticized Maoism, and condemned consumerism and capitalism. He highlighted the problem of class division. The film also included the depiction of the funeral of Palmiro Togliatti (which took place two years before the film’s release). Despite being ostracized by the communists because of his sexual orientation, Pasolini never stopped supporting them. In The Hawks and the Sparrows, he portrayed communism as a moral struggle against fascism. Although it is somewhat naive, it is certainly sincere.

One of the final scenes, showing the scattered remains of the eaten crow, brings to mind Pasolini’s own death. Like the film’s crow, the filmmaker was murdered in a brutal way, likely because of the views he expressed, which were not met with understanding or acceptance by those for whom the director had become an obstacle. Pasolini once said: Man has only two options: either to express himself and die, or to remain immortal and silent.

A Smile Instead of Laughter

The Hawks and the Sparrows is not only a short film filled with diverse themes. It is also a very good comedy that fulfills all the requirements of its genre. Pasolini proved that important topics don’t have to be told in a sad and serious way. Although the film has no place for simple wordplay, it is full of amusing situations. For instance, the “chase” scene, in which the crow adapts to his companions and runs with them instead of flying, brings a smile to the viewer’s face.

The duo of Toto and Ninetto Davoli also works perfectly. Beyond thematic and genre aspects, as well as the acting, the film is worth watching for its cinematography (by Tonino Delli Colli and Mario Bernardo). The beautiful scenes of ancient ruins when Pasolini shifts the action to the 13th century are particularly stunning. Thoughtful shots highlight the contrasts between poverty and the state’s development. The final important element of the film is the outstanding music. Pasolini, who valued originality, does not start his film with the usual credits, which almost no one pays attention to anyway. The actors, screenwriters, producers, and others who contributed to the film are listed in a musically brilliant song composed by the excellent Ennio Morricone, performed by none other than Domenico Modugno. A second version of this song is also featured at the end. The wonderful music accompanies the viewers throughout the film. Ennio Morricone, as usual, executed his task to the highest standard.

This is just a small portion of what could be written about The Hawks and the Sparrows. Nevertheless, it may offer a brief glimpse into the figure of Pasolini—a director still so underappreciated and misunderstood.