O Medo

Whenever I see La Paura I think of it as a companion piece to Eyes Wide Shut, or maybe it is the other way around. Adultery makes both films tick but in different ways. I think Phillip French was right on the money when he pointed out a Wizard of Oz thing in Kubrick's last work. Like Dorothy, Tom and Nicole go through fantasies and nightmares and at the end Dorothy's reassuring childish motto "there's no place like home" is ironically updated to the adult circumstantial adage "there's no sex like marital sex". Kubrick's take is intellectual, he never leaves the world of ideas to touch the ground. He taunts the audience first with an erotic movie and then with a thriller and refuses to deliver either of them. He was married to his third wife for 40 years, until he died. Rossellini was still married to Ingrid Bergman when he directed La Paura; they had been adulterous lovers and their infidelity widely criticized La Paura is a tale, a noirish one. The noir intrigue is solved and the tale has a happy ending. The city is noir; the country is tale, the territory where childhood is possible. The transition is operated in the most regular way: by car, a long-held shot taken from the front of the car as it rides into the road, as if we were entering a different dimension. Irene (Bergman) starts the movie: we just see a dark city landscape but her voice-over narration tells us of her angst and informs us that the story is a flashback, hers. Bergman's been cheating on her husband. At first guilt is just psychological torture but soon expands into economic blackmail and then grows into something else. From beginning to end the movie focuses on what Bergman feels, every other character is there to make her feel something. Only when the director gives away the plot before the main character can find out does he want us to feel something Bergman still can't. When she finds out, we have already experienced the warped mechanics of the situation and we may focus once again on the emotional impact it has on Bergman's Irene. In La Paura treasons are not imagined but real, nightmares are deliberate and the couple's venom suppurates in bitter ways. Needless to say, Ingrid has another of her rough rides in the movies but Rossellini doesn't dare put her away as he did in Europa 51, nor does he abandon her to the inscrutable impassivity of nature (Stromboli). His gift is less transcendent and fragile than the conclusion of Viaggio in Italia. He just gives his wife as much of a fairy tale ending as a real woman can have, a human landscape where she can finally feel at home. Back to the country, a half lit interior scene where shadows suggest the comfort of sleep. After all, it's the "fairy godmother" who speaks the last words in the movie.

Rossellini shot two versions of 'La Paura', one in German ('Angst') and an international version ('Fear'). The two differ in shots and editing. The first Italian version ('La Paura') corresponds to the international one. Later on another shorter version was distributed by the title 'Non credo più nell'amore'. This restoration is the reconstruction of the international version, 'Fear', and it started from the negative of 'Non credo più nell'amore' and by two vintage duplicates, a positive and a negative. The latter, with a number of vintage prints, were used as reference to reconstruct the editing. I watched the international 'Fear'.

I can't help but feel a film about a woman living in constant fear as a direct result of her own infidelity would have fit into the Rossellini + Bergman catalogue so brilliantly just 3 or 4 years prior when they both were living in fear as a direct result of their own sinful affair's scandalisation of America. As it is, I feel that 'Fear' is distant from all collaborating on it. Lack of thought becomes uncharacteristically apparent in the closing act, and the reason for that seems to be a lack of care for a project that could have been so special, so Kiarostami, in a weird, Rossellini kind of way.

Ingesting poisonous substances, by mistake or with the intention of committing suicide. It can also be said of a relationship that is profoundly undermined by an external agent, causing a loss of mutual trust. This process of decline of the couple also includes other issues such as the fear of being discovered, emotional manipulation, and the social anxiety of being a traitor.

Irene Wagner (Ingrid Bergman) is a career woman, married to the renowned professor Albert Wagner (Mathias Wieman) and the mother of two beautiful children cared for in their country house by her housekeeper Martha (Elise Auliger). This charming facade threatens to crumble when Johanna Schultze (Renate Mannhardt) insinuates herself into her life, threatening to expose Irene's affair with Eric Baumann (Kurt Kreuger).

Roberto Rossellini's director sets this modern melodrama, perhaps transfiguring the ongoing sentimental crisis between himself and Ingrid Bergman. This would be their final collaboration, followed by their divorce in 1957; the screenplay, based on a novel by Stefan Zweig, follows a narrative fragmented by moments of varying length, to foster the protagonist's introspection; as always, Ingrid Bergman delivers a marvelous performance, her every gesture and sigh consistently serving her character, and the rest of the cast contributes to the excellent stagecraft.

The best moments are the apparent showdown between the two women, observed from the window by an interested male viewer. A must-see for fans of sentimental melodramas and good acting.

Shades of Hitchcock in this somewhat atypical Ingrid Bergman - Roberto Rossellini collaboration. Most of the film appears simple and straightforward; there is an effective plot twist in the middle, but the ending is rather weak and anticlimactic. Bergman brings her customary class and consumate skill to the project; the little-known Renate Mannhardt is arguably even better as the kind of blackmailer I'd gladly give in to any of her demands! She certainly holds her own in their one-on-one confrontations, which are the best scenes in the film. Some of the English dubbing sounds a little awkward. **1/2 out of 4.

Starts out pretty well with an intelligent and interesting examination of a woman in the throes of infidelity guilt who is being pestered by a blackmailer. But then Rossellini decides to go all Claude Chabrol on us and the plot starts twisting as credibility and its constant companion, interest, go flying out the window.

Is it just me or does Rossellini tend to do this in his films? Did you notice how "Rome, Open City" switched from gritty neo realism to Nazi porn about halfway through? And "Europa 51",in the last third, goes from being a study of a mother's lost soul after the death of her son to a womans prison pic. Really wish this good director wouldn't do this, especially as the directions he veers toward are much less compelling than the ones left behind.

Give this one a C plus.