The life of Eduardo
Scarpetta, one of Naples' best-loved comic
playwrights, reads almost like one of his own many
farces and romantic slapstick comedies. His life was
full of improbable situations and exaggerated
characters, of which he, himself, was one. Suffice it to
say that he is best-known as the father of three
illegitimate children: the De Filippos—Eduardo, Peppino,
and Titina, who grew up to be the most famous theatrical
family of the twentieth century in Naples. Their mother
—follow closely— was the niece of Scarpetta's wife. He
also had three legitimate children with his own wife,
unless one of them was really fathered by Victor Emanuel
II, King of Italy, as rumor had it. Ha! The plot
thickens. Or maybe thins; that could be any one of a
number of plays from Paris in the late 1800s in which
there are always fewer closets and beds than there are
lovers trying to hide in and under.
Scarpetta did
not come from a theatrical family but was on the stage
by the age of four. He worked almost exclusively at the
San Carlino theater in Naples,
where he created a character that became his stage
alter-ego (say, in the same way that the Tramp was
synonymous with Charlie Chaplin): Felice Sciosciammocca,
a typical, good-natured Neapolitan, just trying to get
by. The name "Sciosciammocca" translates from Neapolitan
to "breath in mouth"—thus, with "Felice" (Happy) you get
something like open-mouthed, wide-eyed and perhaps a bit
scatter-brained. The character was a break with the
traditional portrayal of the Neapolitan streetwise
Everyman and, as an implied stereotype, draws immediate
comparison to the well-known, historical Neapolitan
"mask" of Pulcinella. Scarpetta's character, however,
has none of the barbed wisdom of Pulcinella —nor was it meant
to. One story says that Scarpetta, as a child, was
terrified by an on-stage appearance of Pulcinella.
Scarpetta's
grandson, Mario, has commented that the figure of
Sciosciammocca, at the time, seemed to be more of what
Naples was about (or trying to be about) than did the
darker character of Pulcinella. Naples was no longer the
capital of an old-line absolutist kingdom. It had recently
been taken up into united Italy; it had strivings away
from treachery and intrigue, and towards the cosmopolitan
and urbane. There was nothing of Pulcinella's cryptic
mocking behind the "mask" of Sciosciammocca —no
psychology. He wore no mask. He was the light, modern,
nineteenth-century Neapolitan male, with not even a trace
of the tragic Chaplinesque clown; in a way, almost a
throwforward to, say, something like Jack Lemmon's
character in Some Like
it Hot.
Totò as Felice Sciosciammocca Scarpetta dedicated much of his early activity to translating into
Neapolitan the standard Parisian farce comedy of the
day, such as Hennequin, Meylhac, Labiche and Feydeau.
His own original comedies comprise some 50 works, the
best-known of which is probably Miseria e Nobiltà
(Misery and Nobility) from the year 1888. The work is
well known as a 1954 film featuring the great Totò as Felice Sciosciammocca; the
film also features the young Sophia Loren. The plot,
roughly, involves poverty-stricken Felice and his
friend, don Pasquale, masquerading as aristocratic
relatives of a young woman in order to get her parents'
approval for a marriage to a young prince. The ploy
works, of course, and Felice and don Pasquale are
rewarded. They splurge on a feast, and the last scene in
the film has Felice, don Pasquale, and the rest of the
famished family scrambling onto the kitchen table to
shove food into their mouths (photo, left). It is this
type of nonsensical slapstick that irked Scarpetta's
intellectual critics at the turn of the century. They
wanted social commentary. Scarpetta just wanted to make
people laugh. He wrote his last work in 1909 and passed
away in 1925.