Indiscreción de una esposa

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.

Indiscretion of an American Wife (1953)

This is such a contained, focused film, and demands so much of its two actors, every little nuance matters in a kind of exciting dramatic way. The closest thing this compares to, as two lovers or would be lovers talk in a train station, is Brief Encounter (1945), and that's a masterpiece of acting and cinema both.

Here, with Montgomery Clift and Jennifer Jones, it comes close. I found the slowness of it magical, and the filming, in the ultra modern station, very beautiful. If director Vittoria De Sica clearly has a different style than David Lean (though both pile on the romanticism), the effect is still one of longing and loneliness. The weakness here, most of all, is simply the writing, which is so important when two people are sitting around in conversation most of the time.

Oddly, and sadly, it was the producer (Selznick) who got in the way. He was married to Jones at the time, and she was unhappy both during the filming and in her marriage. She also seems to be overacting sometimes--she can be marvelous, and nuance magnified might be exactly what was needed, but it often seems distracting. Clift, for his part, liked De Sica and he did what he could with what he had to work with under the director. It was Selznick who interfered with De Sica, and who altered the script using a series of screenwriters, and even though Truman Capote was one of them, the whole thing was hampered.

The fact it is still a marvelous film is something to wonder at. Flawed, yes, but short and intense and it has a special feeling that Hollywood (and British counterparts) were unable to pull off. The whole atmosphere and mood are enough alone to make it worthwhile.

I saw the short version, and I think it's probably plenty, but if you find the original, with 20 minutes extra, and you like this one, give it a try.

Cesare Zavattini's slim story "Terminal Station" turned into somewhat-overblown star-vehicle for Jennifer Jones and Montgomery Clift, who manage to create romantic tension despite director Vittorio De Sica's insistence upon an overly-busy background. These indiscreet lovers (she a married housewife from Philadelphia and he the half-Italian professor who adores her) are consistently spied upon by accusing eyes while saying their reluctant farewells in Rome's railway station. De Sica appears to be just as interested in the central couple as he is in the woman's young nephew (Dick Beymer) who simply refuses to leave, happy party groups, another group of serious-faced priests, an elderly Italian and his apples, a pregnant woman, the overachievers on the police force, etc. Told in 'real time', the looming faces of the many clocks (reminding our couple of her impending trip home) become a red herring in the proceedings, which do have intriguing moments in spite of the fact Clift shows no signs of Italian blood (he barely seems to comprehend the language!). Jones, in a tidy Jane Wyman-ish hairdo, ably manages to convey the torn emotions of a woman with a family who has found passion at last, and her performances is certainly worth-seeing. Clift makes a fantastically dramatic exit from a moving train, but otherwise just fills the bill. David O. Selznick production has the requisite gloss, but could have used a bit more fire under its icy exterior. **1/2 from ****

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.

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.