When I was younger and entering into the workforce, I came across a quote by Ernest Hemingway, who said “We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master”, which stood out to me not only because of its relevance, but also how (in only a few words), he encapsulated so many different ideas around not only work, but life overall. The key to life is found in this quote, which is that the only way to lead a fulfilling existence is to remain eternally curious while also being humble, not only accepting that life is a series of processes, but also embracing it, continuously improving until we have reached what we consider to be true happiness. Cinema doesn’t often reflect these themes when exploring the idea of working, often looking at labour (regardless of industry) as being a burden, something to be tolerated and endured more than appreciated as something that keeps everyone productive and useful. I am by no means someone who supports the brutality of capitalism, but rather take the approach we find embedded in Il posto, the undeniably brilliant masterpiece handcrafted by Ermanno Olmi, who looks at working life as something neither positive nor negative, but rather essential to our survival, or at least those of us who don’t have the benefit of generational wealth. These themes are explored through the story of Domenico, who has chosen to drop out of school and instead enter into the workforce in order to contribute to his household, with his younger brother being elected as the person who will pursue further studies. Over the course of a few weeks, the young man undergoes a rigorous process of interviews and training sessions before finding someone willing to give a young man without any experience a chance, and in the process learning more in these few weeks than we likely will for the rest of his life, this becoming a formative experience in the young man’s development. Despite its simple premise, Il posto is a film filled to the brim with bold ideas and an even more enthralling sense of authenticity, proving that Olmi (in only his second film) was a vitally important voice in mid-century arthouse cinema, many considering this his crowning achievement.

Il posto is a film that walks a very narrow tightrope between its message and how it will be interpreted. This is not an effusive, overly enthusiastic attempt to glamourise the lives of the working class. In fact, some may argue that it is vaguely nihilistic, having a kind of cynicism embedded within it that indicates Olmi’s intentions were not to celebrate but rather to harshly critique. However, as was often the case with Italian neo-realism and the associated movements that sprang up over the years, this film is less about persuading viewers to think in one way and more focused on being as descriptive as possible, observing life as it is, from the perspective of someone whose interests lie firmly in capturing the zeitgeist in as much detail as possible. This is the precise quality that makes Il posto so endearing – there’s no overarching agenda or very clear message that it wants to force on the audience. There is of course a lot of socio-cultural and political commentary scattered throughout (this film could not function without it, since that is the backbone of neo-realism as a whole), but its not weighed down by the desire to say something subversive, being more intrigued by the exploration of how a young man handles the pressures of being thrust into the working world, where he is not given any assistance other than the bare minimum and told that it is his responsibility to find a path forward, as was the case with all of the men who came before him. Through this, Olmi presents an invigorating and dynamic portrait of Italy in the early 1960s, especially in terms of capturing Milan at this point (many mainstream Italian films explored life in Rome, so its refreshing to see another iconic city given the spotlight), all seen through the eyes of a young man learning about the world and its many unpredictable elements that every adult encounters at some point in their lives. It has many thematic layers, and it’s incredible to see the extent to which Olmi goes to evoke certain themes without turning Il posto into a heavy-handed bundle of conventional ideas.

In the postwar era, we saw a radical influx of stories focusing on children or younger protagonists, since it has been proven that the most effective way to communicate deeper social messages is through using characters with whom we can relate. The story of a young man undergoing a voyage of self-discovery through seeking out a job, and gradually seeing the world open up in front of him, is a simple but extraordinarily simple way to look at society at this specific point in the past, as well as the cultural nuances that governed it at the time, which is where so much of this film’s nuances emerge. Olmi is not trying to craft some enormously challenging treatise against capitalism, but rather looking at the plight of the working-class through the eyes of a young man about to enter into what he soon comes to realise is the job that will likely define his future. There is nothing more disheartening to a young person than the realisation that they will likely work in the same position, or at least a similar line of work, until they retire, which is made very clear in the unforgettable final scene, where Olmi communicates such a strong message with only a few lines of dialogue. As a coming-of-age story, Il posto is quite incredible – the world is a hostile place, and for a character like Domenico, it can be even more difficult to navigate solely because he veers towards the sensitive, not having the world-weary cynicism that is possessed by his older peers, but which he very clearly is told that he will soon develop. In our youth, we are all exceptionally idealistic and have grand ambitions, and while some do achieve them, others find their destiny is to do less glamorous work, often the kind that is overlooked but is essential to society. The protagonist of Il posto has to reckon with the realisation that he is going to become a cog in the machine, and rather that resisting it, he chooses to find the joy in what many would consider to be a bleak future, the optimism with which Olmi approaches these themes, as subtle as it may be, creates something truly compelling from a very simple and evocative story that we can appreciate for its astonishing thematic depth and ability to capture something quite rare.

Il posto is a quintessential neo-realist work, and we see that the director cobbles together all the usual elements that go into this style of filmmaking. At its core, there’s a story of a young man trying to find his way through the world, being old enough to recognise the challenges that lie ahead, but not having the experience that comes with age to actually overcome these obstacles. Much of the weight of this film is carried by Sandro Panseri, who was still very young and had no prior acting experience (as was often the case with Italian neo-realism, non-professional actors were favoured, since they bring a sense of authenticity that cannot be mimicked by trained performers), yet still delivered an absolutely exceptional performance. The expressiveness of his face, which communicates endless emotions with just a glance or subtle movement, is astonishing and anchors the entire film, guiding us through the story while we accompany Domenico through his day-to-day routine. The film is tonally precise, existing somewhere between gentle humour and slightly sorrowful drama, which seems appropriate for a film that attempts to replicate reality as closely as possible. There’s so many very insightful observations that the director makes that feel like they’re genuinely trying to communicate something more profound, and while it can occasionally move towards the cynical at times, it never entirely abandons the viewer, choosing to allow us into the world of this story in a way that feels earnest and compelling, never entirely dismantling itself from its themes, but also not being afraid to challenge common ideas in an effort to reveal more of how it sees the world. It does help that the filmmaking is simple – the score is minimal, the cinematography is striking (the film being shot in gorgeous black-and-white, with Milan rarely looking more captivating than it is in this film, despite most of the story taking place in working-class neighbourhoods), and the focus is on capturing the nuances of the time in a truly unforgettable way.

Considering the wealth of astonishing works produced there over the years (to the point where a legitimate argument can be made that it was the home to the greatest cinematic output in history), there is no shortage of potential candidates for the greatest Italian film ever made, and the argument has been ongoing for decades. It seems oddly fitting that one of the strongest contenders – and indeed one that I’d consider worthy of the title had Vittorio De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves not existed – is one of its most simple and poetic, a small but substantial comedy that exceeds all expectations and proves to be a wholeheartedly daring masterpiece in both concept and execution. Additionally, Il posto has the benefit of being one of the rare instances of a film that may not be targeted at younger viewers, but most certainly can be appreciated by them – I’d argue that this film should be essential viewing for all young people, as it contains themes that I wish I had known when I was in the same stage of life as the protagonist, with the same feeling of concern and confusion about a world that simply does not make any sense, and which has proven to be extraordinarily hostile for anyone who shows even the vaguest sign of weakness. It’s a film in which we encounter many lessons, but it is surprisingly quite compelling in how it chooses to highlight these elements, never being heavy-handed or unnecessarily dense, and instead relying on the intricate, complex details that make up this story. It’s an astonishing piece of cinema, a captivating and moving portrait of the human condition as seen through the eyes of someone trying to understand the world as far as he can. There’s something so enticing about a film that is self-assured enough to promise the audience an unforgettable experience, while also never being boastful, and while it may sometimes feel quite harsh in how it presents the life of the working-class, Il posto is an undeniable masterpiece, a film consisting of numerous layers that all work together to create something truly extraordinary.