a morality play
by Douglas Messerli
Sergio
Amidei and Federico Fellini (screenplay, based on a story by Amidei and Albert
Consiglio),
Roberto Rossellini (director) Roma città aperta (Rome, Open City) / 1945
At an early point in Robert Rossellini’s memorable film Open City, one character asks another whether or not the Americans really exist; he looks up to a ruined building, and comments something to the effect of “Yes, they exist.” By 1944, the year in which the events of the film presumably take place, Italy was already a defeated nation, Mussolini having been toppled. A civil war between the Nazi controlled northern provinces of the country, and the southern provinces controlled by the monarchist and liberal forces with soldiers fighting with the Italian Co-Belligerent Army was being waged. Declared an “open” city, Rome was anything but safe for Resistance and Communist fighters such as Giorgio Manfredi (Marcello Pagliero) and the underground printer Francesco (Francesco Grandjacquet). Ruled by the Italian puppet government controlled by the Nazis, the citizens of the Holy City were exhausted through deprivation and near-starvation. The long year ahead until War’s end seemed like a decade. And the Americans, even those stationed in the south, seemed far in the far distance.
Roberto Rossellini (director) Roma città aperta (Rome, Open City) / 1945
At an early point in Robert Rossellini’s memorable film Open City, one character asks another whether or not the Americans really exist; he looks up to a ruined building, and comments something to the effect of “Yes, they exist.” By 1944, the year in which the events of the film presumably take place, Italy was already a defeated nation, Mussolini having been toppled. A civil war between the Nazi controlled northern provinces of the country, and the southern provinces controlled by the monarchist and liberal forces with soldiers fighting with the Italian Co-Belligerent Army was being waged. Declared an “open” city, Rome was anything but safe for Resistance and Communist fighters such as Giorgio Manfredi (Marcello Pagliero) and the underground printer Francesco (Francesco Grandjacquet). Ruled by the Italian puppet government controlled by the Nazis, the citizens of the Holy City were exhausted through deprivation and near-starvation. The long year ahead until War’s end seemed like a decade. And the Americans, even those stationed in the south, seemed far in the far distance.
Major Bergman:
I've a man who must talk before dawn and
a priest who is praying for him. He'll talk.
a priest who is praying for him. He'll talk.
Hartman:
And if not?
Major Bergman:
Ridiculous.
Hartman:
And if not?
Major Bergman:
Then it would mean an Italian is worth as
much as a German. It would mean there is
no difference in the blood of a slave race
and a master race. And no reason for this war.—
much as a German. It would mean there is
no difference in the blood of a slave race
and a master race. And no reason for this war.—
may seem to not only weaken the story,
but to detract from its presentation of a spontaneous reality. Similarly, the
pious religiosities spouted by the Resistance-supporting priest, Don Pietro Pellegrini
(Aldo Fabrizi) seem out of sync, and further contribute to the sense of this
work as being just short of a dialectical propaganda piece. If this is a “new”
realism, it certainly relies heavily on the old-fashioned dramatic conventions
of pre-War Italian film and theater.
But, in fact, it is just these conventions that help to make it so
effective. And we don’t feel cheated in gradually coming to recognized that Open City represents a version of
reality that might never have been discovered on the mean streets of Rome.
The most important scenes in the film, in fact, depend upon spectacular
gestures of passion rather than accidental documentation of real events. Pina’s
sudden decision to chase after the
Nazi jeep into
which Francesco—the man whom she was to have married that same morning, has
been taken under arrestment—is almost explicable as a rational act, but utterly
representative of the boiling over of emotions of love, desire, desperation,
and, perhaps most importantly, hate that her chase signifies—actions which can
only be dealt with from the would-be-conquerer’s point of view death. And her
emotionally moving fall to the street is explicitly symbolized in its image of
the pieta and a holy death.
The almost impossible-to-bear scene in
which Don Pietro is forced to watch the torture of Manfredi, who beaten, whipped,
and torched, is visually represented as the scourged and tortured Christ, again
reiterates the incredible hate the Nazis have crafted, described by Hartman in
his drunken conversation with Bergmann.
In short, the central scenes of Rossellini’s film are about as far from naturalistic
as one might get. These and others through the work serve more as emblems of
iconic meaning rather than as a documentation of everyday events.
Often even the ordinary street scenes, such as the attack on the local
bakery by starved mothers and children, are played for comic relief when the
sexton, Agostino (Nando Bruno) suddenly determines to get his share of the
daily bread which has so long been denied the citizens of the city.
If the street scenes shot through windows often seem compelling real, we
only have to observe how the director uses his camera, winding down from the
heights in the circular patterns of staircases, or zooming from high to low
position in order to get a better look at what is transpiring below.
In short, throughout Open City,
Rossellini is more interested in the theater of his tale and the passion it
evokes than in glimpsing the reality of everyday life in the war-weary city.
But rather than seeing such mini passion plays as failures in an otherwise
convincing documentation, I would argue that what appears as documentation
serves simply as filler for the emotionally appealing and moving interchange
throughout of good and evil. The realistic scenes of the film serve less as
substance than as links that cement the morality play that Open City truly is.
Los
Angeles, March 8, 2015
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