Indiscreción de una esposa

This film will not appeal to everyone, but even with the ravages executed by Selznick on the American cut, Stazione Termini (Selznick's U.S. version: Indiscretion of an American Housewife) remains a powerful film for those who can appreciate it.

To be sure, there are faults, especially unfortunate in light of De Sica's credentials. Most striking are that Montgomery Clift as American-Italian is a spectacular error, not so much in casting, as in characterization (American expat would have worked); far too much English comes from the mouths of early-1950s Romans and other Italians; and the American housewife is perhaps overly oblivious to the italianità around her. Otherwise, mostly spot on, at least in the full version.

Jennifer Jones, beyond radiant in her prime-of-life womanhood, exudes a sensuality that both contrasts strikingly with her 1950s-prim exterior and celebrates the troubled woman within: proper well-brought-up ladies can have passions, too, a marriage ceremony is no guarantor that all will be well 'til death do them part, and she, like so many before her and after, struggles when smoldering embers flare and she senses that the 'groove' of her comfortable, uneventful marriage may actually be 'rut'.

As would be expected of De Sica, his rendition of the setting -- the newly rebuilt Stazione Termini itself, trains, travelers -- is so accurate as to pass for a recording, and protagonists as well as the concentrically-involved supporting cast embed within it void of staging, with total plausibility.

The arrest scene and its aftermath also verges on documentary in its genuinity. The strict proprieties of post-WWII Rome -- for some Romans very genuine, for others hypocritical sham even then -- may seem contrived to a young American or British viewer today, but the inevitable tension was very real at the time, and De Sica presents its effects honestly, and with éclat.

Give Stazione Termini a chance. Enter the time and place. De Sica managed to do a fine job of it, in spite of Selznick's ill-advised meddling, and he deserves far more more credit than he's normally given for this effort. So does Jennifer Jones, who is magnificent here.

Coming after "ladri di biciclette"(1946)"miracolo a Milano"(1950) and the absorbing and rather unrecognized "Umberto D"(probably De Sica's masterpiece,1952),"Stazione Termini" cannot be put on a par with these former works.It is an interesting effort though.

Montgomery Clift and Jennifer Jones are par excellence the romantic couple ,but in an Italian environment,they look like extra-terrestrials.Do not get me wrong,I do enjoy these two actors' talent ,but I wonder why De Sica ,one of the neorealism high priests, has chosen Hollywood stars whereas ,for instance,he refused to engage Cary Grant for the "ladri di biciclette" lead,and he used rather obscure actors for "Umberto D".Besides,I wonder whether both Jones and Clift are dubbed (or not?) in Italian.I wonder too whether this actress was not influenced by Ingrid Bergman's coming to Italy.When she buys chocolate for the children and when she wants to help the poor family,Jones' character makes me think of Bergman's in Rossellini's "Europa 51" (1951) for a very short while

The plot is banal and the railway station becomes the star of the film.De Sica completely succeeds in showing the life of this hive,with its travelers,its priests,its soldiers,its poor families packed into 3rd class waiting rooms,its trains heading for darkness .The lovers' faces are nicely filmed as if they were the only lights of this obscure world.

Italian maestro Vittorio De Sica's Hollywood sortie, this ill-received co-production with David O. Selznick, starring Ms. Selznick, Jennifer Jones and Montgomery Clift as the star-crossed lovers, is built on a pellucid idea of condensing a doomed extramarital romance within a neat spatio- temporal structure: two hours inside the Terminal train station in Rome.

Jones plays Mary Forbes, the titular American wife, who strikes up a torrid affair with a bachelor Giovanni Doria (Clift, sporting a passable Italian and stays on autopilot as a careworn and distressed jilted lover) during her visit in Rome, impulsively decides to go back home and break off their liaison after declaring her utmost feelings for him the day before. Firstly, she must take the train from Rome to Paris, and Giovanni's timely advent botches Mary's plan to leave at 7 pm, and the next train leaves in one and half hour, during which time, the pair undergo an honest tête-à- tête, a badly-devised game-changer (encountering Mary's nephew Paul, a decent screen debut of Richard Beymer), a temporary separation then rekindle their passion in an empty compartment, which will cause a scene and their fate will be left at the mercy of the police commissioner (Cervi), can she manage to take the 20:30 train and how their affair will end?

First of all, the premise is very lax, there is absolutely no exigency for Mary to depart for Paris immediately, it is her whim out of the blue, which makes the entire scenario sound contrived, it is not helped by Jones' emotionally duelling but ultimately mushy incarnation, as demure and kind- hearted as her Mary is, clearly, it is her have the final say, but her conflict with moral compass swivels when the narrative is constantly hogtied by its essayist sidebar to extol the Termini station itself, a monumental presence buzzed with characters and egregious red tape, which feels tonally incompatible with the central story, which shows up the quintessential rift between Hollywood melodrama and Italian Neo-realism.

Lastly, if you are not dissuaded by this review and still want to watch it, don't watch the bluntly truncated 63-minute USA version, its 89-minute original version is unequivocally more cohesive and engaging for the viewing experience, still, it is a letdown among De Sica's corpus.

This film is full of ironical metaphors. We have a running Joseph and Mary / Adam and Eve biblical subtext. The surface sentimentality can be misleading. Rome Termini Station contains enough iconography of Heaven and Hell to make up an ironic parable. I'm surprised that so many critics have not picked up the clever gags. I suspect that the butchering of the film down to 63 minutes has something to do with it. The serpent and the apple, seeking refuge in the manger, Dante's innocent descending into the purgatory of the police station, two passionate innocents caught up in orthodox role structure, it's all there, if rather clumsily re-edited. The film clearly belongs to an era where film language a la Welles or Hitchcock was more sophisticated than much of today's mainstream cinema.

Like fine wine, "Stazione Termini" seems to grow better and better with age.

Generally "written off" as a lesser De Sica work, this film offers two beautiful performances by Jennifer Jones and Montgomery Clift.

The two, with different types of acting training, sensitively mesh their discrete styles through deeply felt emotions. Highly gifted, vulnerable, and insecure, these top performers reach for the bottom of their feelings in bringing to life two desperate, lonely lovers.

It's been said these thespians enjoyed a close off-screen relationship due to the leading lady's deep infatuation with her co-star, and that she was distraught when he, due to personal circumstances, was unable to mutually respond.

That's not at all surprising, for it's all there in their work in this drama. A deft melding of romance and neo-realism, which marks the distinctive De Sica style, "Stazione" now seems just the right length for its content.

It almost seems to unfold in "quasi-real time," with shots of clocks ticking away before the train leaves at the story's finale to emphasize the time element.

What emerges here is a kind of slice-of-life vignette: two people in love, who must part due to one partner's domestic responsibility. We are allowed to briefly share their intimate, final moments together before their inevitable parting.

Zavattini's script (along with Truman Capote and Ben Hecht's dialogue) nicely capture these fleeting minutes, while the score lushly points up the pathos of a tragic unfoldment. De Sica's unique direction (with Selznick's uncredited contribution) rounds out a small gem of a film whose vintage grows increasingly more sweet and more special with age.