Mussolini was back in the news over the weekend. A film clip emerged that had the dictator speaking to Americans in 1927 — in English. The clip came courtesy of the Fox News Service. I mean, that was the original broadcaster.

In his remarks, Mussolini saluted the Italians in America. He said that they were “working to make America great.”

Like all dictators, but more than most, Mussolini cared a lot about the media, and their manipulation. I have to tell you about Vittorio.

He was Mussolini’s eldest son. And he was smitten by the movies. He impressed on his father their awesome power. I’ll quote to you Romano, one of Vittorio’s younger brothers:

“My father was interested in the Italian cinema and considered it an extraordinary means for spreading propaganda. My brother Vittorio, who was a great fan and connoisseur of movies, had many long conversations with my father about directors and actors and kept him abreast of all the important developments.”

I will now give you Umberto Eco, the late scholar and novelist (author of The Name of the Rose):

“Vittorio belonged to a group of young Turks fascinated by cinema as an art, an industry, a way of life. Vittorio was not content with being the son of the Boss, though this would have been enough to guarantee him the favors of many actresses: He wanted to be the pioneer of the Americanization of Italian cinema.”

This would-be pioneer wrote frequently about film. He also edited a magazine called “Cinema.” Have some more Eco:

Vittorio “criticized the European cinematographic tradition and asserted that the Italian public identified emotionally only with the archetypes of American cinema. … He genuinely loved and admired Mary Pickford and Tom Mix, just as his father admired Julius Caesar and Trajan. For him American films were the people’s literature.”

Okay. In 1937 — two years before the war — the dictator sent Vittorio to Hollywood. There, the Fascist prince struck a deal with Hal Roach, the famed producer. You remember Roach for Laurel & Hardy. Also for Our Gang, a.k.a. the Little Rascals.

He and Vittorio formed a company called “R.A.M.,” which stood for “Roach and Mussolini.” They were to make movies out of grand operas, beginning with Rigoletto.

You can go to the Internet — here — and find a film of Vittorio being introduced to the Little Rascals. Darla sits in his lap. Buckwheat shakes his hand. Alfalfa and Spanky express their enthusiastic interest in making movies with him.

It is surreal, in view of the world war around the corner.

Immediately, Roach took some heat for collaborating with Vittorio Mussolini, and, by extension, the dictator. He defiantly told a reporter, “Benito Mussolini is the only square politician I’ve ever seen” (“square” meaning honest, straightforward). But the pressure mounted, and Roach quickly went back on the deal, buying Vittorio out.

In the next few years, Vittorio wrote some movie treatments and did some producing. He used a pseudonym, Tito Silvio Mursino, an anagram of his actual name. Among his collaborators was Roberto Rossellini, who would become one of the most honored directors of the 20th century. During the war, they made war movies, including Un pilota ritorna, or “A Pilot Returns” (1942).

After the war, Vittorio made a run for it. Wearing a disguise, and carrying a false passport, he sailed to Argentina. About ten years later, he resettled in his native land, spending the rest of his life as a keeper of his father’s flame. He died in 1997, age 80.

In the above paragraphs, I have drawn from my book about the sons and daughters of dictators (Children of Monsters). The other Mussolini children include Edda, Bruno, and Anna Maria. They are all terribly interesting, more interesting than anyone would ever want to be. The same is true of the grandchildren, some of them — outstandingly Alessandra.

She is the leader of neo-Fascism in Italy today, and a member of the European Parliament. Once, she was on the cover of Playboy. She is the niece of Sophia Loren. Etc., etc.

Piece of work.

#share#

‐For the last many weeks, Trump supporters have been telling me how wonderful Trump’s children are, and how this speaks well of him. His running mate, Mike Pence, did essentially the same. Addressing the convention in Cleveland, he said, “You can’t fake good kids.”

Leaving the Trump family entirely aside, I wish to say this: I know good and conscientious parents — indeed, heroic parents — who have lousy kids, or deeply troubled kids. And I’m sure I know so-so parents — even poor parents — who have nice and well-balanced kids.

I think parents with good kids should be very grateful. And a lousy kid is not necessarily a sign of bad parents, believe me. (As DJT might say: “buh-LIEVE me.”)

‐“His kids like him!” Trump supporters tell me. Well, don’t Obama’s kids like him, too? So? What’s your (political) point?

‐Over the weekend, Chris Sale went a little nuts. He is the star pitcher of the Chicago White Sox. The club wanted him, and the rest of the players, to wear a “throwback” uniform — a uniform honoring the past. Sale didn’t want to. He cut his up — with a knife, apparently — and did the same to other uniforms.

The club suspended him.

I thought of an incident from the opera world — an incident concerning Angela Gheorghiu, who is responsible for many delicious incidents.

For the Metropolitan Opera, the Romanian diva was appearing as Micaëla in Carmen. The production called for the character to wear a blond wig. La Gheorghiu, a raven-haired beauty, didn’t want to. The Met’s GM, Joe Volpe, had a memorable reply: “The wig is going on, with or without you.”

He replaced Gheorghiu with an understudy. Before the subsequent performance, Gheorghiu relented.

But she committed a little act of rebellion: She let some of her natural hair slip out from under the wig.

‐More news from the opera world? And the world of Election 2016? Okay. The family of Luciano Pavarotti has complained — because the Trump campaign has been using a recording by the late tenor. The music is “Nessun dorma,” from Puccini’s Turandot.

La famiglia Pavarotti says that Trump is offensive to them because he does not share their man’s values. Um, I can say that The Donald and Pavarotti have a lot in common: particularly as it regards marriage and brawds.

I think Pavarotti would have liked Trump a lot, and probably did.

‐Not long ago, I was in Washington, D.C., and it was hot, damn hot. I passed a statue of Admiral Byrd. He was dressed for polar exploration. It was totally incongruous. I wanted to say, “Admiral, wouldn’t you prefer a tank top?”

‐A family of tourists — German — was taking pictures of squirrels. I see this in Central Park all the time too: Foreigners take pictures of squirrels. To me, squirrels are as common as — I don’t know, grass. But they are exotic animals to others.

‐A store in D.C. grossed me out. Its name, I mean. We are talking about a canine-grooming shop. Whose name is “Doggie Style.”

‐Back at home in New York, I saw a similar store — this one called “Doggie Do.” Much better.

‐I met a man from Ghana, whose native language is Twi. When I pronounced the word “Twi,” he said, “You have an accent.” Then he laughed heartily.

‐I was on an airplane. There was a steward who was from either Australia or New Zealand (I couldn’t tell). He spoke beautifully. Out of his earshot, an American lady said to her friend, “He doesn’t even speak English.”

‐A little music? And a little ballet, to boot? I did a post about The Sleeping Beauty, here.

‐Guy walks up to a ticket window. The seller says, “Hi.” The guy says, “I wish I was.” The two then laughed. Could have been high school.

‐I was on a subway train, with one of those “gliding” suitcases. It glided away from me a bit and brushed up against another passenger. I said, “Sorry. You could take me to court!” She laughed and said, “Yeah! I’m gonna sue for damages.”

A nice moment. Two Americans — strangers — sharing a bit of contempt for the Litigious Society.

‐Hermina Hirsch is a Detroiter. She is one year shy of 90. She is a Holocaust survivor — survived five camps, including Auschwitz. She had a longstanding dream: to sing the national anthem at a Tiger game. She did it, this season. Unaccompanied. Go here, to read about, and to hear.

One of my favorite stories of the year, definitely. Thanks for joining me, dearhearts, and check you later.