Il testimone

Just how much influence Alessandro Blasetti, as 'supervising director', had on this film is impossible to determine but it undoubtedly remains an auspicious directorial debut by Pietro Germi and gives note of what is to come. He is aided immeasurably by the cinematography of Aldo Tonti and the dramatic score by Enzo Masetti, this being the only occasion on which these three creative artistes were to collaborate.

Already evident here is Germi's skill with actors and his leading players here are Roldano Lupi, Marina Berti and Ernesto Almirante, none of whom were known outside Europe although Signorina Berti was merely required to look ravishing in 'Quo Vadis' and 'Ben Hur' whilst given a larger but thankless role in 'Prince of Foxes'. Her sensitivity and delicate beauty are put to good use in Germi's film as Linda, a newly-married woman whose husband Ernesto is showing increasingly irrational behaviour. Unbeknown to her he has a skeleton in the closet! Ernesto is played by Roldano Lupi whose somewhat severe and forbidding exterior denied him traditional leading man roles but enabled him to play more substantial characters as well as granting him a career lasting thirty six years. He convinces here as a man consumed with guilt and paranoia. The most taking performance is that of Ernesto Almirante in a wonderfully drawn characterisation of Marchesi, a well-intentioned elderly civil servant whose change of testimony has caused a guilty murderer to be acquitted but who eventually realises his mistake.

The dynamic and tension between these three is brilliantly handled by Germi and there are some Hitchcockian touches, notably in the use made of Marchesi's antiquated timepiece.

Although this first film is very much work in progress it has the hallmarks of an original and exciting talent whose promise was to be fulfilled.

The first of 19 titles directed by Germi, this film is impressive; mostly for the very solid direction of the actors. The main character trio also deserves special mention for the most notable acting featured. They are played by Roldano Lupi (whereas this performance of Lupi's is perhaps as impressive, or is more impressive, than in Il Dellito di Giovanni Episcopo, (directed by Alberto Lattuada) which is to be released next year), Marina Berti (whose simple but eloquent beauty probably has never been so well-explored) and Ernesto Almirante. As its title hints, the film takes on the tone of a moral fable. It may be compared with the tone of the more sophisticated work of Robert Bresson, and later, with that of Kieslowski (A Short Film About Killing). Stylistically, it is impossible not to link this production with neo-realist films for the massive use of locations. Otherwise, three perspectives differentiate it from neo-realist films: Firstly, its clear accomplishment is with the deft, cinematic representation of generic conventions; in which case, the fact that it's a suspense film seems to provide a kind of answer to American noir films. And it does so in a closeness more intense than in the work of Antonioni (e.g., Cronaca di un Amore), which is a characteristic trademark of Germi. Secondly, the film evokes a visual style that is indicative of being very self-conscious. Technically, this is accomplished by the beautiful shots/counter-shots made with frontal camera and fast editing, during the unique dialogue between Pietro and Andrea. (However, the intensive use of back shots, in the idyllic sequence that Pietro had his first intimate contact with Linda, resounds quite dissonantly with the style of the rest of the film.) Thirdly, like in classical cinema, there is a focus on the psychological aspects of the main characters, that engender the own narratives and which force the social commentaries and milieu to a background position. Set in the modern metropolis, the film documentary prologue with a voice-over narration (a characteristic present in other films that Germi directed thereafter, e.g., In Nome della Legge) that claims that in modern cities people who are physically proximate lack awareness of each other. It is important to note that the storyteller's only interest in the crime at the center of the plot is for the product thereof, i.e., a large sum of money that Pietro carries around with him. Critics could argue in hindsight that choosing not to describe the crime is a weakness at best (and possibly a fatal plot hole at worst). However, others may find cleverness in the fact that the film's narrative takes no interest in describing the crime for its own sake; thus relegating it to a certain imposing, nagging obscurity (i.e., the 12,000-pound elephant in the room). Regardless of one's preference, in this sense, the film differs from the typical Hollywood approach. Like Hitchcock's technique, the suspense is built between the spectator's conscience of the culpability of Pietro, and the characters' lack of consciousness of the same. The film's tacit critique of modernity seems sometimes fragmentary and not organically integrated with the narrative at all. That is the case for its accusation of bureaucracy in the situation the new couple asks for their wedding agreement, in a public office, where of there being irrationality in the realm of rational bureaucracy.