Rome, ville ouverte

Over time, Rossellini's legacy has been overshadowed by that of his contemporaries Fellini and de Sica. There are reasons for this. Fellini had a unique cinematographic eye and a gift for abstract symbolism. De Sica was able to capture the incidental and indeterminate in a way that practically elevated it to the level of the holy. His use of non-actors was far more effective than Rossellini's, as was Fellini's use of actors. Rossellini's scripts were often two-dimensional, his cinematography spotty and his editing odd. So why is it that he occupies a leading position among Italian auteurs?

In fact, Rossellini was not a neo-realist, but a realist. Compared with products of the neo-realists, his films are thin and wooden. If, on the other hand, one views them as works of tragedy, they are excellent. From the very start of Open City, it is clear that the seeds of disaster are sewn. A pregnant mother is to be married to a member of the resistance. Members of the clergy and children are also involved in fighting the Nazis. Italians are united against a common enemy: Fascism. Yet we know that, while victory is inevitable, so is death. Perhaps it is the darkness of the tight, seedy interiors that tips us off. Perhaps it is because we do not feel that sense of endlessness beyond the screen, but that we are being led through these building and streets along with the characters. Perhaps is is the German marching songs. Whatever it is, we feel the march of destiny leading us to some terrible conclusion. Fate can never play a role in neo-realist work; by Bazin's definition, it is constructed organically and arrives at its destination as if by chance. Tragedy can only be the purview of the realist.

Open City is not without its liabilities. For one, Arata's cinematography, while startling at times, is unsatisfactory at others. The script, written by Fellini and Amidei, is confusing and allows for minimal character development. [N.B.: The English subtitles add to this confusion, excising whole chunks of crucial dialogue.] Several of the performances are undynamic, such as those of Maria Michi and Carla Rovere; the villains, portrayed by Giovanna Gallett and Harry Feist, are very much "in type"; Aldo Fabrizi, who, as Don Pietro, is so central to the plot, is guilty of overacting. Above all, one doesn't get the sense that Rossellini's camera "falls in love" with its subjects the way that one might wish it did. Yet it is in this very impassiveness, this plastic script and detached camera, that the key to Open City lies. This is not a film about a painter and his son, nor does it lovingly portray an old pensioner and his dog. This film is about the horrors of war, not a subject for which Rossellini expects to find an empathetic audience. In the absence of footlights and the invisible "third wall", he uses the greatest tool at his disposal to create tragic theater: our own lack of nobility.

Open City is a portrait of human courage in the face of overwhelming odds. It confronts us with horrors which, God willing, we may never know. Don't watch it expecting to fall in love with the grittiness of World War II era Italy. Expect to be deeply moved.

In Nazi occupied Rome, German SS is hunting for engineer Giorgio Manfredi who is a leader of the communist resistance. He escapes looking for fellow fighter Francesco and finds his pregnant fiancée Pina. Catholic priest Don Pietro Pellegrini helps but he's under surveillance.

It's a minor miracle that Roberto Rossellini achieved so much so soon after the end of the war. On the other hand, when Pina points to a bomb damaged building, a bomb probably did damage that building. It is considered a great example of neorealism although he had fewer unreal sets that he could use anyway. The one scene where Pina is chasing after Francesco being arrested is one of the great scenes of cinema. It is dynamic and visceral. One can really feel the action more than most war action scenes of its time.

Like so many movies made during or shortly after WWII, this one reveals more about the circumstances of its creation than anything novel in the story line. Stock good guys and bad guys fill the screen, and the sombre tone of it all trumps any truly objective attempt to critique it according to some dispassionate set of standards. The fact that it was made at all and continues to be shown to appreciative audiences via cable television speaks for itself.

The strength of the production lies indeed in powerful individual scenes and some inspired acting. It captures attention from the beginning and holds the viewer rapt until the final minutes, even though the cinematic values are at best crude, requiring a forgiving eye. One identifies easily with its emotional force.

That said, its shortcomings are rather obvious. The Nazis are mainly not native speakers of German, with accents ranging from Dutch to Italian, and the one German officer who speaks ill of the "master race" is in his cups rather than a sober judge of the evil around him. The viewer would do well to remember that fascism in Italy was a homegrown phenomenon well before the Germans took over the show in 1944. Note how the Red Menace is thrown in the face of patriotic Italians as a ploy to gain their acquiescence to Nazi control. Elements of moral decadence among the evildoers likewise diminishes rather than enhances the proposition that they are rational perpetrators of that evil, bent on excusing their acts by twisting the truth to suit their own agenda.

Yet this was a contemporaneous Italian reflection on fresh history, and that cannot be faulted by 21st Century revisionists. It also restored a vital industry to Italy, and presaged many great films that followed it.

Roberto Rossellini's Open City contains characters so real and emotions so powerful that it is not unusual for audiences to wonder whether the drama being played out on the screen is in truth a bona fide documentation of events surrounding the Italian Resistance during WWII. A study of the production history reveals that the film is closer to a combination of pure documentation (most accounts will go into detail about the location shooting and the presence of real soldiers) and dramatic reconstruction of actual events (like the execution of priest Don Morosini by the Nazis) with some lyrical filmmaking thrown in for good measure (I still get chills down my spine when I hear the children whistling in defiance of their oppressors). Anna Magnani, one of the greatest performers in the history of Italian cinema, is absolutely amazing in this film.

Rome after the Second World War was a damaged, destroyed city. The huge film industry that had once been known all over Europe was, quite literally, in ruins.

Hence, when Roberto Rossellini took up his camera in 1945 to start shooting 'Open City', he was forced to make due with quite a few limitations: using scavenged film stock, whatever kind he could get his hands on; shooting outside and on location; and employing a much more dynamic, though much less controlled, form of cinematography than Italian cinema had previously seen. The result was an unpolished, rough gem of a film that, in addition to its many contributions to the evolution of cinema, left the pre-war Italian super-spectacle in the dust.

In terms of story, 'Open City' is pure melodrama; and a pretty, darn affecting one at that. Thematically, it's socialist, a reaction against the fascism, personified by Mussolini, that had just been defeated in Italy. But, it is in its style that the film truly stands out.

With 'Open City', Rossellini succeeded in taking adverse conditions and using them to craft a solid, emotional tale of the Italian resistance. In the process, he solidified the aesthetic of an entire film movement: Italian Neorealism.

The film is recommended to anyone who enjoys a good story, is interesting as an artifact of its historical period, and is absolutely indispensable to anyone with at least a passing interest in the history of cinema.