Paisà

"Paisa", Roberto Rosselini's chronicles of the Allies' Italian campaign, is a movie like no movie I saw and like no one has ever seen when it came out in 1946. It is really one of a kind, a masterpiece that stood the test of time and it's no wonder Martin Scorsese put it at the top of his favorite movies.

The film is made of six episodes following not only a chronological but geographical story line. The first episode is set the very day the Allies landed in Sicily, their first one in the European continent, in that crucial summer 1943. Sicily marked the beginning of the end for Nazis but what a nightmarish, thrilling and inspirational journey before getting to that triumphant end.

Each episode of "Paisa" ('buddy' in Italian) is set in a specific city: Rome, Napoli or Florence, but it's less in the setting that in the variety of situations that the experience of war is so unique and groundbreaking. For instance, most war movies involve ordinary battles, bridges or railroads to blow, towns to free, prisoners to handle and so forth, but "Paisa" explores in a deeper way situations we generally take for granted. A film like "Patton" shows us the Allies entering in Sicily, but in "Paisa", we're confronted to the first patrols, meeting defiant villagers with the language gap playing a significant part. The most memorable relationship of this segment involves a GI named Joe, from New Jersey and local Carmela, a Sicilian girl who reluctantly guided his patrol to an unoccupied castle through a mine-free way.

The first shades of genius start to show through the communications struggles between two persons who couldn't have been more opposite, yet are united by similar desires: she wants to see her parents, he wants to go home, and when he finally finds a way to communicate, and just when you think we're about to have a love-at-first sight moment, something happens that shows you how war has never been much of a plot-maker, and one way leading to another, after five minutes, with the closing of the first chapter, we're haunted by the story's poignant irony, and we're looking forward to witness similarly humanistic tales. Naturally, they are not of the same emotional resonance, as there's no specific pattern guiding the stories, but all through the film, our hearts swing between contradictory emotions: warmth, humor, anger, sadness and shocks through the outburst of violence, reminding us there's a war, after all.

The second and third chapters are the first to feature non-life threatening situations, one deals with the unlikely relationship between Joe, an African-American soldier, and a little street scamp who reminded me of the 'Shoeshine" kids (actually, the story has something to do with shoes) but it's so unlike the first one that we're a bit puzzled before getting the emotional implications of its ending. The third chapter is interesting too in the way it takes place in the aftermath of liberated towns, and plays like an ironic twist on the typical images of pretty girls kissing their liberators. Indeed, the disillusion caused by war ends up affecting 'innocent' girls. Of course, when compared to killings or rapes, prostitution strikes as the lesser of two evils, but the story again, defies all the conventional implications of a love story, quickly sacrificed on the altar of war's inner sleaziness.

The following episodes are more in line with the usual war material, especially the fourth one featuring an American nurse and an Italian resistant running through Florence in the midst of a ferocious battle between Italian partisans, Nazis and their die-hard fascist allies, in a desperate quest to find their loved ones, her lover, a legendary resistant named 'Lupo' and his family. The ending echoes the Sicilian chapter. Finally, the last one is perhaps the grittiest and ugliest, but a necessity when you consider the anti-war statement the film makes: partisans, who are seen in previous chapters are mercilessly shot by the Germans on the basis that they are not covered by the Geneva conventions, their execution is not without protests, nor sanctions to these protests. The film questions the pretensions of civilization, how can civilization orders destruction, killings, how can it destroy human feelings such as life and love.

Which leads me to the most puzzling chapter, where three American chaplains are welcomed to stay in a Roman monastery. It's a place of peace and quietness and for a while, it seems that there is nothing but mutual respect and gratitude between the men, until the monks learn that two chaplains happen to be Jewish and protestant, lost souls as they say. Indeed, at a time where humanity lost its soul, literally, where war has proved to be the anti-thesis of civilization, the monks' reactions is simply perplexing. I don't think there was any anti-religious undertone to it (remember the heroic priest who prayed for an atheist Communist in "Rome, Open City") but more of a way to show how ironically lost, the men who never really got in touch with war, ended up being. This is one of the many ironies, the brilliant, multi-layered and Oscar-nominated screenplay is full of.

And this is to the credit of Roberto Rosselini and the six writers, including Fellini, who made these chapters, to have assembled these slices of Italian and American lives at a time where Italy was trying to restore some of its lost dignity. And a film like "Paisa" is a powerful homage to the souls that were either killed or destroyed by war. On a technical point, some images get a bit blurry, some actors are less professional than others, but it is so obvious that most of the film was shot like a documentary, that these flaws are small prices to pay for such a historical magnitude, this is as far as neo-realism could ever go.

Now that I have seen all three films in Roberto Rossellini's 'post-war' trilogy (the others being the groundbreaking Open City and Germany Year-Zero), I think Paisa is the one that got to me the most. I knew when I saw clips of the film in Scorsese's My Voyage to Italy that it would have some level of promise, but I didn't know it could be this compelling. Divided up into six vignettes, Rossellini paints something of a historical document as much as a film- each one carries its own strengths (there may be a weakness here and there for some, though this may lend itself to the fact that the film has not been restored and is in dire need of new subtitles), and the documentary-type approach elevates characters and situations to the level of great tragedy. These may be fictionalized accounts, they may not be, but in telling these stories, getting them through to the audience at the time, they remain potent little notes in film history.

From vignette to vignette, the allied forces move their way upward from Sicily to northern Italy. Among them, I got struck by how frank the issues were being dealt with, and how levels of humanity and kindness crept their way in. For example, the story with the drunken black man who spends some time with a kid dealing in the black-market, this is an emotionally complex scene- a viewer won't know how it'll turn out in the first few minutes, but it unfolds precisely to the characters' natures. The story involving the soldiers spending time in the monastery was also powerfully simplistic in the way it dealt with the themes of faith and sacrifice (the later stems to the other vignettes). And there are numerous other moments and scenes that can stop you dead in your tracks- a young child that cries in one scene and a nurse braving enemy territory had my mouth open.

I realize not that many people in my generation will seek out this film- notably since it's not easy to find except on-line- and certain scenes may seem too 'mushy' for some. However, there is worth to seeking out a work such as Paisa- in a sense, this and Rossellini's other early films were like the first independent films to Italy's claim. There isn't any sign in any of his post-war pictures that he's catering to studios or working on big budgets. These are stories being told with little money, non-professionals, and they definitely last years later after all the rubble was cleared. Maybe most remarkable is the way Rossellini and his writers (one of them Fellini) let things happen, and not without consequence or without logic of some sort.

It's also a technically brilliant feature, with the cinematography by Otello Martelli creating shots as heart-rending as the performances. So, for those who hate dictated plots, sloppy clichés, and all the other disappointments found in 21st century movie-making & storytelling, this is a great place to dip your toes. If anything, it's surely thrilling as a war film.

Often dismissed as a founder of Italian Neo-Realism whose career degenerated either at the start or the end of his much publicized relationship with Ingrid Bergman, Roberto Rossellini remains one of the most underrated directors in cinema history...

Exploring the links between fiction and documentary, observation and education, and the individual and society, he was an important figure in the development of the cinema...

Rossellini said of the film: 'In Paisá there were two worlds which came into contact, each with a different psychology and mental structure. From this contact was born a great confusion; so much so that in the end there were neither victors nor vanquished, there remained only the everyday heroism of the man who clings to life. And who lives, despite everything, whether he is one of the victors or one of the vanquished.'

Rossellini followed 'Rome Open City' with the equally impressive Paisá, whose six, often barely dramatic stories of part-comic, part tragic encounters between Italians, Germans and liberating Americans were rooted in specific locations (the Po Valley, the Uffizi Gallery), but were universal in their portrait of an entire nation destroyed and divided by war...

Already Rossellini's taste for long, mobile takes in long shot (rather than montage and close-up) gave evidence of his desire to relate individuals to the world around them...

In using a number of non-professional cast, and combining them with his improvisatory techniques, Rossellini get an universally acclaimed human document of rare quality and compassion...

Georges Sadoul wrote that Rossellini had 'damned the horrors that war had brought to his country and his heart cry was emotionally and enthusiastically understood around the entire world.'

Just when you thought that the cinema form had lost its capacity to carry an important social message without the use of artsy-fartsy rethoric, there comes "Paisà"; a masterpiece for the ages. Rosselini is a name that must be spoken of in all schools and universities of the world. His ability (combined to a perfect script) to convey emotional meaning in film with the use of non-professional actors, natural locations, and still be able to make it VIBRANT and EXCITING... it´s uncanny. The power of the stories told in "Paisà", although very distant in time and geography (for me, anyways) compells any intelligent human being to stand up against every kind of dictatorship and violence. On top of all that, Rosselini doesn´t use cheap tricks to win the public´s heart through melodramatics. His films are very down-to-earth and often take a distance from their main characters, which helps our rational analysis of the situation without being blinded by passion. Like Brecht used to do, i think.

All six stories are my favorites, but I particularly like the monastery segment. It portrays religious prejudice by christian monks towards two priests, one jewish and another a lutheran, right in the middle of the war. To the absurdity of all, the monks come to the priests´ companion, a Christian, to make them realize "the true path". One more time, Rosselini doesn´t end the segment with lessons of moral; its ending is very ambiguous and ironic. "Paisà" is a gem; i like it better than "Roma, Città Aperta", also a masterpiece of neorealism.

Having seen "The Bicycle Thieves" I was aware of Italian Neo-Realism as a film movement. The film is divided up into six sections with none of the stories crossing over to the other. I wished that the film was one cohesive story but I may have felt this way because of my previous viewing of "Bicycle Thieves." I have always liked the idea of Italian Neo-realism and its ability to capture stories in a realistic way. This is a really great example of an almost documentary style of filmmaking. The cities are real and so are the people. This makes the film more interesting to watch as it is in such a natural state. The characters in each story, particularly the sections that involve children were what moved me the most. Knowing that all of these stories most likely happened at some point makes this film very powerful to see. Even when I was reading previous reviews of the film, it was obvious that many people from other countries truly connected with this film because of how realistic it is. I am lucky enough to say I never experienced any of this turmoil but I can only imagine what kind of intensity the film would bring to my own life had I related to these characters. I would say this isn't my favorite representation of Italian Neo- realism but it is a great glimpse into the history of Italy as well as the history of cinema.