Smog is an Italian film directed by Franco Rossi from 1962. It screened April 7 at the Billy Wilder Theater (within the Armand Hammer museum) in Westwood, which seems to be the new home of the UCLA Film Archive. I went to see it because I learned that it was shot in LA, and I've become one of those Angelenos who loves to do cinematic archaeology of the city. Smog is also one of those films which does not exist on DVD in any form at the moment (bootleg or otherwise), and I really make an effort to see those kinds of rarities when I can.
The title "Smog" grabbed me, leaving me wondering if there was any connection to Italo Calvino's short story, "La nuvola di Smog." I read the story several years ago and tossed around ideas for adapting it into a short film as I drove my commute in-and-out of Hollywood on La Cienega everyday, past oil drills pumping in the shadows of Baldwin Hills suburban ranch homes. The film had no connection to Calvino, but I was happy to find a nice little cinematic gem. This film shows some interesting locations, from the opening at LAX to Sunset and Hollywood Boulevards, to the oil fields in (what is referred to as) Culver City. ( They looked a lot like the ones off La Cienega, but it was hard to be sure ). It's interesting to see what's changed and what has stayed the same. Beyond just the physical locations, it's interesting to see the portrayal of an ex-pat community in Los Angeles, since communities of foreign-born people, like the landmarks, are characteristic of the city. In 2008, I have not encountered any large community of Italian-born people in LA, and I wondered whether this reflected a reality in 1962 that has since changed. But the attitudes and ideas could be transposed to Korean or Latin-American or what-have-you.
The story is simple: A lawyer from Italy has a stopover in LA on his way to handle a case in Mexico. He is released from the airport without passing through immigration by an airline attendant who keeps his ID. He intends to do some brief sightseeing in Hollywood, but quickly discovers that the real Hollywood is nothing like what he imagined. Unable to function in English, he quickly falls in with various Italian ex-pats, making friends with their affluent and well-connected American contacts. Most of the Italian people Vittorio comes in contact with are hustling different jobs, installing stereo equipment, teaching Italian language to rich housewives, doing caricature artwork, etc. One of them, Mario, is a particularly ambitious Jack-of-all-trades type who sinks below Vittorio's standard of morality with his credo of "A little ingenuity, a lot of nerve." 
Renato Salvatori as Mario, teaching Italian to idle housewives.
Mario and Vittorio (Enrico Maria Salerno) later have out over some cash missing from Vittorio's jacket pocket.
Vittorio sees himself in a different class of people than most of the countrymen he meets in Los Angeles. When asked by an airline attendant if he would like to pass time in a waiting room with an Italian couple he'd met on the plane, Vittorio shrugs them off, saying, "They're just some immigrants I met on the plane. Italians are OK in Italy, but..." He seems to find much more in common with the affluent people he meets at a Pasadena cocktail party, even if they mispronouce his name, insist that he is the "ambassador of somewhere," or generally rely on him for entertainment.
Vittorio accompanies Gabriela to a high-society cocktail party, where he seems to feel right at home, despite his inability to be understood.
I read the film as a statement on the difficulty of connecting on an honest human level with anyone in the city, regardless of their language or nationality. It's a familiar theme in many movies about Los Angeles, and is explored visually through Vittorio's outsider perspective. At times, the "smog" layer which inhibits human contact is so thick (as in a bowling alley's barroom, choked with cigarette smoke) that it is nearly impossible to see the faces in front of you. Race, class and language are the obvious barriers dividing people, but even Mario and Gabriela, who share a language, culture and situation as foreigners, seem to be pursuing dreams on parallel but separate paths, only overlapping when they need each others' comfort. In this regard, although Smog may have originally been made primarily for an Italian audience (not sure about this, but it is mostly English-subtitled Italian language), it belongs solidly among the ranks of other films about LA, many of which observe the isolation of its people.
** I did a search for information about the film on the internet and found a review that Time magazine published in 1962. It leads me to believe there may be two endings to this film, since the one mentioned in the review differs from what I saw. The Time review mentions Vittorio becoming trapped in the home of an architect, where design has overwhelmed function. The ending I saw had a considerably less sardonic tone, leaving Vittorio to revel at the party with his new friends, and following Gabriela back to the home she dreams of buying. Gabriela, the passed-over girl who leaves the party alone, spends the night with Mario, the uninvited, who nonetheless understands status even if he cannot transcend his own. Although they have each other, it is only for the night, and the film ends with Gabriela watching Mario drive away to begin his hustle anew. If this film ever sees the light of day on DVD, it would be cool to find out whether or not there was an alternate ending, and why.
Mario takes a dip in Gabriela's dream pool. Vittorio passes out after drinking too much at the bowling alley.
