Repertory film is a hard sell on campus, but last night I watched an advance screener for a multi-layered, black-and-white, French-Italian co-production that’s being re-released by Oscilloscope Pictures next month – one that  reminded me (in part) of my college days, and hopefully it will still connect with both students and general audiences today. The Law (La Loi, 1959), was directed by Jules Dassin just a few years after his celebrated Rififi, and stars Gina Lollobrigida and Marcello Mastroianni. Although the people involved are all adults, the story still pivots around something very common on any campus: lots of lusty emotions, drama, and booze. But it also goes further.

Originally released in the U.S. in 1963 under the title of Where the Hot Wind Blows!, we are transported to the Italian fishing town of Porto Manacore. Don Cesar (Pierre Brasseur) is the elderly patriarch who seems to hold most of the strings to the town, Matteo Brigante (Yves Montand) is the ruthless upstart who wants to displace him, Enrico Tosso (Marcello Mastroianni) is the agricultural engineer who represents government intrusion – not to mention romantic competition for Brigante. Swirling around all three is the town beauty; Marietta (Gina Lollobrigida), whose voice carries over the rooftops and incites one man to say that “When a girl sings like that, it’s cruel to keep men locked up.” But probably smart, especially given some of the macho theatrics that the men go through to assert their pecking order. Which leads us to the drinking game referred to by the title of the film.

When I was in college we had a drinking game called “Football.” It had had an insane number of rules, but that was part of the fun. A “commissioner” would be selected, there would be a “tee-off” (everyone drinks), and then the commissioner would start things off with a hand signal that would indicate who was to go next. That person would then make hand-signals that would “pass the ball” to the next player. Some were intuitive. A “zoom” resembled a salute and passed the play to the person being saluted. That was easy enough. But if someone looked at you with a “reverse snorkel,” the play actually would pass to the previous person. Anyone could raise their hand at any point and, if properly addressed by the commissioner, call attention to somebody else’s misstep to make that person drink. But woe to they who did not summon forth evidence or credible witness… because then they had to drink instead.

In “football,” being properly addressed was important, as was following the chain of command. Protocol was King, and anyone who screwed up had to drink. I had a flashback to this college drinking game thanks to watching The Law.

Unlike “Football,” which was just for fun, “The Law” is played with wine instead of beer, and it enables (and encourages) its players to say the most damning things, so that words quickly cut people to the bone. If words are not enough, knives can come out. It’s played for keeps, but like “football,” it’s also all about protocol and keeping appearances.

Discerning viewers of the film will quickly note that the idea of “the law” is central to the story, and not just as the titular drinking game, but also as a construct that is continuously being flaunted and co-opted by the various players herein. Who is breaking The Law? Who is The Law? Who will be punished by The Law? What also arises are issues of honor and shame amongst an odd interweaving of farce, romance, and tragedy; all of which touch on dominance and submission. In one sense, it’s a familiar song and dance, but Dassin also knows how to surprise his audience by keeping them off-balance while always being in the lead.

As with all games, The Law has its share of winners and losers. But for my money, the film is most interesting when it’s covering the losers, because that’s when it plays for keeps. They say everyone likes a winner, but nobody ever forgets what it’s like to be stared at when you’re a loser.