Word: orgosolo
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Michele is his name. For 20 years he has saved up his pennies, and now at last has accumulated a small flock of mortgaged sheep in the hills behind Orgosolo. One day, home from the grazing grounds, he finds three armed men in his hut and a huddle of stolen hogs in his sheepfold...
Bandits of Orgosolo. The shepherds of Sardinia are elemental men. Short, square, silent, they look like the rocks of their rocky land, like faintly sentient boulders. The big island's landowners and the rural police consider them scarcely human and treat them accordingly. The shepherds bear their lot with lithic indifference. All day long they drive their tiny flocks from pasture to sere pasture, working literally like dogs. In the evening they eat curd and flatbread. At night they sleep sometimes in rude stone huts, sometimes on the mountainsides among their sheep. They live for their sheep-they would...
...Sardinia? The film does not quite convince the spectator that it is. More apparent penury and less obtrusive plot might more firmly have supported the director's social protest. But the story is told swiftly and clearly; the players, most of them peasants the director discovered in Orgosolo, bring to their roles a pithecanthropic power that few actors could suggest; and the landscape of Sardinia is astonishing, a scene of Pre-Cambrian catastrophe. On every side great ridges of bare rock burst out of the earth, leap up to the sky, fall back in fragments. Seen from a summit...
Whitewash & Tar. For years the most feared bandit in all Orgosolo has been a dark-eyed ruffian named Gian Battista Liandru, who turned outlaw some 32 years ago when he became bored with sheepherding at the age of 17. In time Liandru's forays became as legendary in the Sardinian hills as those of Jesse James in Missouri. Local law officers credited him and his band with more crimes than they could ever have found time to commit, but they could never find him to press the charges. Then, three years ago, Liandru's luck seemed to turn...
Last week the villagers of Orgosolo trooped once again to the local churchyard to sob the age-old Sardinian funeral lament of one Antonio Francesco Manca, 48, a goatherd by trade and the father of four children. By ancient tradition, his death notice was posted in the village streets, "killed by an unknown hand and unexpectedly taken from his dear ones . . ." Why? Nobody knew, except that Antonio was No. 13 on the list...