Showing posts with label Italian Neo-Realism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Italian Neo-Realism. Show all posts

Sunday, 16 November 2008

Ossessione (Luchino Visconti, 1943)


Ossessione was given this release by the BFI (British Film Institute). I live right outside London, and I would like to go in there, visit the BFI and slap someone to stop them releasing DVDs. On the back of every BFI DVD there says: “The British Film Institute offers you the opportunities to experience, enjoy and discover more about the world of film and television.” Now alright, that’s great. However, every BFI release I own is very bad. Including Ossessione I also own La Terra Trema (Luchino Visconti, 1948) and La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939). La Règle du Jeu had a lot of the same problems as Ossessione, very bad picture transfer, and maybe more importantly, horrible sound transfer. The sound isn’t given any depth or clarity, and often comes across as dull, when it shouldn’t be. Seriously, BFI, it’s great that you want people to discover unknown cinema, but unless you start making some decent releases please leave it to the professionals such as Masters of Cinema.

Now, despite its horrible release, Ossessione stands as one of the most impressive pieces of cinema that I have ever seen. It is made even more impressive by the fact that this was Visconti’s first feature film. I have always been partial to the whole notion of the Italian neo-realism, but more than any Italian director than I can think of Visconti encapsulates these ideals to their fullest. Visconti manages to give even the simplest of shots several layers of meanings, he captures here better than few places I’ve seen the intangible sadness of human existence. I will say now, Ossessione is a masterpiece, and stands as one of the finest examples of Italian neo-realism. His acute sense of directing and pacing, the wonderful framing and composing of his images, it all works extremely well here, and if I were to show aspiring filmmakers a debut film by a famous director to show how it’s done, I would show Ossessione. I did like the films of De Sica a lot, but Ossessione goes beyond them. I am wondering exactly why De Sica is more famous than Visconti. He is a fine director and made his own masterpieces, and true, I haven’t seen many of Visconti’s films, but this really stands the test of time. It shows how excellent directing can transcend its time and become immortal, this film puts most contemporary films to shame. One of the things that impressed me was how much information Visconti could place within a shot, how he could foreshadow and give us vital information about the characters in just a simple shot or a sequence of shots. This is the kind of filmmaking I am always looking for in films, managing to convey themes and information in simple shots. To illustrate a bad example, let’s take the film I last watched, Sabrina (Billy Wilder, 1954). There is a shot of Sabrina in a tree, watching a wonderful party in the house, where the love of her life is dancing with another woman. We then see that she is upset. Now this is fine, and conveys all the information we need to know in a sequence of simple shots. Good directing. However, soon her dad comes along, tells her to get down from the tree, and tells her to forget all about that guy. Now this is bad, because it simplifies too much. He didn’t need to say this to give us information, and the film lowers the standard of the audience. Ossessione avoids these things by leaving what needs to be said to the camera, and not the dialogue.

Not since watching the Apu trilogy by Satyajit Ray have I been so excited over the idea of neo-realism. Visconti captures the ordinary in a fundamental way, and creates meaning through his images. He keeps the aspect of the real alive, while yet utilizing the craft of the camera, a thing a lot of directors, Italian then and contemporary now, needs to learn. The film is based on the book The Postman only Rings Twice, but I am not familiar with this story, although I know it was also made into an American film. Anyway, the story is fairly simple and straightforward, but Visconti manages to evoke some powerful ideas and themes through his directing. A lonely woman lives with her unattractive and old husband, and one day a vagabond comes along who she is immediately attracted to, and he to her. The film from here on is about their relationship, which is far from perfect and takes many twists and turns. It’s the core of the film, and the characters state of mind is constantly under pressure and they have to contemplate guilt and how they relate to each other. There is a marvellous shot in the beginning of the film where the protagonist enters the kitchen where the lonely wife is. He is framed by the doorway, but is blocking most of what we see of the wife. The only part of her we see is her legs (she is sitting on a table). This very simple shot conveys so much about the current situation, what is going to happen, and the immediate relationship between the characters. It is an impressive shot, not because of its technicality, but how it simply conveys so much in just a few seconds. This is the brilliance of Visconti, and one of the key things that makes Ossessione such a great film. I really wish I had a better version of this, maybe Criterion or Masters of Cinema will do Visconti’s early films at one point. It’s something to hope for anyway, I’ve got the Criterion version of Le Notti Bianche (Luchino Visconti, 1957), and that is very good. Masters of Cinema also released Rocco e i suoi fratelli (Luchino Visconti, 1960), and I am looking forward to seeing that. Despite all the problems though, Visconti’s direction managed to shine through, which further impresses me.

Ossessione is a masterpiece, simple as that. It is probably one of the best films I’ve seen of the Italian neo-realism movement. The shots that build the film up are fantastic, the drama feels true and resonates, the actors manage to convey with simple acting methods. Early Visconti is not that famous, but I hope more and more will see this early film, because it is simply just as good as or better than Ladri di biciclette (Vittorio De Sica, 1948). People talk a lot about Visconti, but I’ve heard few references to this film, with De Sica a lot of people talk about him and at the same time there is a lot of reference to his most famous films. But I like De Sica a lot as well, though, but Visconti seems to be pushing the envelope even more.

Saturday, 27 September 2008

Le Notti bianche (Luchino Visconti, 1957)


This is the first film I’ve seen by Visconti, so you must excuse my lacking knowledge about his style and themes in general. I did however find a couple of things in common with other Italian neo-realistic films, so I do have some experience of this type of cinema. Regardless, there were also several aspects that were different from other classical neo-realist films, so I find it to be an interesting transitional film for this period. There are elements that are similar to contemporary and later films, particularly those of Fellini, especially Le Notti di Cabiria (1957) and La Dolce Vita (1960). I thought it had some interesting themes and dealt with them in a mature way. It’s a story of a man who meets a woman by chance in the streets, he looking for love and companionship, she waiting for her lover who’s been gone over a year. It deals with naïve love and disillusionment.

One of the things I loved most about this film was the dialogue. There are so many memorable lines, one in particular that I will probably remember and quote for a long time. I’ll not mention any of those here so not to spoil the film for those who haven’t seen it, but suffice to say, the screenplay was excellently developed. The two main characters interact in a fascinating way, swapping stories and are at all times directing each other in different ways. At times it seemed that the film was almost purely text. However, there are some wonderful visual moments without any dialogue that convey how the characters feel, particularly the opening and end are really great on this. Of course, the legend Marcello Mastroianni is great in this, you can never really get too familiar with him. The cinematography is crisp and clean, and gives a strong sense of the title (White Nights in English). It works as it should, and is at times gorgeous. Visconti also has a great sense for framing, and there are many memorable scenes because of this, highlighting the drama.

Like I mentioned when writing on The Bicycle Thieves, this films also has it fair bit of social criticism. It portrays a still war-torn city with poor people living on the streets. There is a wonderful moment where the two characters declare their love for each other, and it starts snowing, making them even happier. At the same time, we see some homeless lying in the street, who are probably not so happy about it snowing. It’s a good tool Visconti is using here, as the viewer cannot get attached to the romance of the characters due to the critical nature of the film. After a couple of minutes, it stops snowing and Marcello’s character says “It’s stopping already?” Visconti immediately pulls us back from the romantic fiction, and also purposes as a foreshadowing. It works as a great critique on classical romantic cinema, as the scene is at the same time very similar and still far removed from these types of movies. There’s a similar technique used in the excellent Letter from an Unknown Woman (Max Ophüls, 1948), which I recommend to anyone who are interested in similar themes.

Le Notti Bianche is probably not the best film I’ve seen by Italian filmmakers, and I hope it’s not the best I’ve seen by Visconti. However, it is a fine little gem that I have not heard too much about, so for anyone who is interested in this era of Italian filmmaking, I would say that this is a must-see.

Tuesday, 9 September 2008

Ladri di biciclette (Vittorio De Sica, 1948)



Sometimes late last year I watched Rome, Open City (Roberto Rossellini, 1945) and was quite disappointed, seeing as it was such a classic. The emotion and story just felt hollow, and it made me feel ambivalent towards Italian neo-realist films. One of the major problems was the lack of subtlety and documentary touch that instead of making it feel real made it fake. I'm not very familiar with these kind of films, although I did love Umberto D. (Vittorio De Sica, 1952). So, I decided to get The Bicycle Thieves by the same director, to see if this could sway my opinion again about these neo-realist films, and it certainly did. While leaning towards social-realism, the film is still cinematic and manages to convey emotions and subtle psychological drama. I don't really enjoy the idealistic aspects of neo-realism, preferring the more distanced and stylized approach of directors like Godard, although he admittedly was very influenced by neo-realism. I guess I just didn't like the approach of Rossellini, at least compared to De Sica, although I should probably continue to explore these directors and this tradition, to get a clearer view.


The story is a simple one, and since I like going to a film not knowing anything about the general story-line, I will not spoil it for the reader who hasn't seen Bicycle Thieves yet. Suffice to say, the film is great at conveying emotion and a slight touch of melodrama, portraying the difficult life of working class families in post-war Rome. One difference that I liked about De Sica's films is that they seem to focus on the individual's struggle, while Rome, Open City had a much more collective view, giving us a look at several different characters. De Sica gives us the story and troubles of one man and his family, and the film I feel is much more concise, and also an interesting psychological portrayal of the character, through some wonderful cinematic sequences. The film uses fairly usual cinematic techniques, but merges them with the down-to-earth everyday life of Rome, and while never becoming melodramatic, does have a fair bit of drama. The realism is gritty while at the same time the film has a fairly clean look to it, more than you would expect from a neo-realistic film. The craft is good, and I really feel De Sica already is an experienced filmmaker and storyteller.




You can also sense a bit of criticism and ideas on cinema in this film, as the poor main character hangs up posters of the latest Rita Hayworth film (Gilda I believe, quite a good film in it's own right), clearly condemning Hollywood, the film juxtapositions the impoverished Rome and the glamor of Hollywood. De Sica also seems to target the government and cynicism of Italy at the time, showing the suffering of normal people. What I liked about Bicycle Thieves though was that, unlike Rome, Open City, does not hammer us with it's moral, but rather leaves it in the background, there's no clear statement of intent, but rather a sigh at the state of Italy. The film has some wonderful ups and downs, but remains fairly bleak, leaving a big question mark at how the main characters are going to survive.


With the experience of Rome, Open City, I actually didn't expect this to be great, but it was. A wonderful film full of life, a compromise compared to Rome, Open City, but is genuinely downbeat and sad, while still retaining moments of happiness and hope. Wonderful.