When I think of Marcello Mastroianni, I mainly associate him with the casually romantic characters he played in films like La Dolce Vita. With 1974’s Allonsanfàn, though, Mastroianni takes on a different kind of part.

Set in the early 19th century after the fall of Napoleon, aristocrat Fulvio Imbriani (Mastroianni) leaves prison. He served time due to his participation with a group of revolutionaries, and authorities let him go under false pretenses because they hope he will lead him to his comrades.

Fulvio returns to his family and simply wants to retire in peace, but he finds it difficult to escape his past. His conflicted feelings impact his actions and his path forward.

That sounds like a potentially compelling tale, doesn’t it? Unfortunately, the end result becomes considerably less enticing.

Allonsanfàn focuses more on characters than the synopsis implies, and I can’t quibble with that choice – in theory, at least. In reality, however, the end product tends to feel slow and padded.

All that time we spend with Fulvio and his various endeavors usually goes nowhere of particular interest. I guess the filmmakers believe these beats will build character dimensionality, but instead, they simply plod and feel unnecessary.

A little of this information goes a long way. As we wade through endless scenes of a mopey Fulvio, we became impatient for something – anything – to actually happen.

Which doesn’t occur. Oh, every once in a while Allonsanfàn looks like it might start to kick into gear, but these moments fail to produce much that prompts real interest.

Allonsanfàn prefers a languid, artsy vibe that I guess some will find engaging. It does provide an attractive and well-shot film.

It simply never turns into anything more than vaguely interesting, though. Despite all the potential drama and intrigue related to the main character, the final product lacks much to prompt audience investment.

Allonsanfàn appears in an aspect ratio of 1.66:1 on this Blu-ray Disc. The image seemed largely appealing.

Sharpness usually worked fine. Despite a few slightly soft wider or interior elements, the majority of the movie appeared accurate enough.

No issues with jagged edges or shimmering appeared, and I saw no edge haloes. Grain felt natural, and no print flaws materialized.

Colors went with a natural vibe that leaned amber but also came with some stylized greens and reds. The disc replicated the hues in an appropriate manner.

Blacks felt deep and dense, while shadows looked smooth and clear outside of a few somewhat murky interiors. Even with some softness, this was a pretty good presentation.

I thought the film’s DTS-HD MA monaural soundtrack seemed typical for its era and origins. Music lacked a lot of range, but the score seemed fairly full and well-rendered.

Effects followed suit, with tones that came across as acceptably accurate, if a bit thin and occasionally rough. The dubbed nature left the lines as a bit unnatural, and speech tended to sound somewhat sibilant and edgy. I felt this was a mediocre mix for an Italian flick from the mid-1970s.

A smattering of extras appear, and we find an audio commentary from critic Michael Brooke. He delivers a running, screen-specific look at story/characters, cast and crew, themes and interpretation, symbolism and cinematic techniques, music, historical elements, and the movie’s reception.

Although we don’t get a ton of specifics about the film’s actual production, Brooke nonetheless offers a strong view of the movie. He covers an appropriate mix of subjects and turns this into a fast-paced and engaging chat.

In addition to the movie’s trailer, we find a circa 1966 audio interview with filmmakers Paolo Taviani, Florestano Vancini, Nelo Risi and Anna Gobi. Conducted by critic Gideon Bachmann, this chat spans 57 minutes, 11 seconds.

Here we get the participants’ thoughts about their art in that era as well as issues related to directing, Italian films and where they felt cinema would go in the future.

Given this conversation occurred almost a decade before the movie’s creation, obviously we get no specifics about Allonsanfàn here. Indeed, few film-specifics occur, but we find a spirited discussion that touches on its topics well, even if those involved to engage in nonsense like the belief bad movies always make more money than good ones.

One might expect a tale of rebellion and revolution to offer some excitement, but instead, Allonsanfàn turns into a sluggish character piece. If it provided real introspection and depth, I wouldn’t mind, but the final product simply drags and fails to connect. The Blu-ray brings pretty good picture, mediocre audio and a few bonus materials. Given its potential, Allonsanfàn disappoints.