Amore

Contrary to the previous reviewer, "The Miracle" WAS released in New York City at the Paris Theater in 1950 (it was part of a 2-film anthology called "The Ways of Love"). It did well at the box office and went on to win Best Foreign Film from the NY Film Critics.

Cardinal Spellman objected to the film and denounced it in print. Since the film had already passed the NY censorship board without objection, he put pressure on the owner of the Paris Theater to stop showing the film before he was able to get the censorship board to reverse itself.

The film's distributor, Joseph Burstyn, went to court to defend the film and the Supreme Court, in a landmark ruling in 1952, decided the censorship board had violated the Constitution's separation of church and state clause and, furthermore, reversed its 1915 Mutual Film vs. Ohio ruling and determined that film was protected under the First Amendment.

L'Amore is divided into two parts, the first called "A Human Voice", and the second named "The Miracle". Anna Magnani is wonderful at both. The first episode is about love and sadness. A woman is pursuing for a man who does not love her any longer. The whole episode occurs whitin a bedroom, with Anna and a telephone. The dialogue of Anna with her ex-husband is simply fantastic and very emotive. The second episode, more cryptic and stronger, shows us a medieval Italian town with all its beliefs and supersticions. A woman, Anna Magnani again, makes remember us the mistery of creation, with symbolic references to some christian icons (as virgins, poor people, saints, etc.). In sum, this is a wonderful film.

Two short stories about love: the first, based on a Jean Cocteau story, is a powerful sola tour-de-force by the great actress Anna Magnani; it's always hard to pull off an one-set, one-person monologue on the screen successfully, but she does it. The second, based on what can only euphemistically be called a "story" (mostly shots of Magnani walking) by Frederico Fellini, is rambling nonsense; unfortunately, it is also longer than the first episode, and also has nothing really to do with the topic of the title - it does not belong here. *** out of 4 for the first episode, * for the second, ** on average.

Roberto Rossellini freely admitted that the two films that make up this opus were designed as a showcase for the talents of his then partner and muse Anna Magnani. Neither film could be said to have had an easy ride as 'Il Miracolo' was banned in America thanks to that self-appointed guardian of morality, the crackpot Catholic League of Decency whilst 'Voce Umana' was not widely shown because of copyright issues with Jean Cocteau's original play.

Ingmar Bergman once said that the greatest contribution to the art of film is the well lit, well directed and well acted close-up. This is certainly true of 'Voce Umana' in which a woman alone in her apartment is desperately trying to salvage a doomed relationship over the telephone and whose agony is intensified by the phone constantly cutting off. The almost microscopic close-ups here hold no fears for Signora Magnani who is utterly riveting. Although this is a shortened version of Cocteau's original it is no less effective and her intensely emotional performance is aided by Eraldo da Roma's dynamic editing and the use of light and dark by cinematographer Otello Martelli. None of us likes rejection of course but one does feel at times like shouting out 'pull yourself together woman, he's obviously not worth it'.

Most directors never find a muse whereas Rossellini had the good fortune to have not one but two. 'Voce umana' is even more poignant, in retrospect, as he left Magnani two years later for muse#2 Ingrid Bergman. Ironically Miss Bergman was to give a powerhouse performance in a longer version of this piece on American television in 1966.

'Il Miracolo' is quite frankly not as accomplished a film. As in so many of his neo-realist films Rossellini is again playing puppet master to a supporting cast mainly composed of 'real people', that is to say non-professionals who cannot act and who are obviously 'dubbed'. The jury is still out on Fellini's acting abilities! Its rawness and immediacy still pack a punch thanks to Anna Magnani's stupendous portrayal of simpleton Nannina, the camerawork of Aldo Tonti and to another powerful score from Rossellini's brother Renzo.

The true 'miracle' of this piece is that the eventual lifting of its ban, based upon the principle of free expression, marked the beginning of the end for film censorship.

Regarding the wondrous Magnani let us leave the last word to William Dieterle who directed her in 'Volcano' at the same time as Rossellini was directing Bergman in 'Stromboli'. "She was the last of the great, shameless emotionalists."

Long unavailable in its entirety Roberto Rossellini's "L'Amore" remains one of his very greatest films. It is, in fact, two films; the second part, "The Miracle" has been shown separately and ran into censorship problems both in Italy and abroad. Fundamentally, it is a vehicle for Anna Magnani who is quite magnificent. In the first part, Cocteau's monologue "The Human Voice", she is the only person on screen, a lone woman on the telephone to the lover who has left her for another woman. For a good deal of the time Rossellini keeps the camera on that wonderful face and she is heart-breaking.

In the second part she is the deluded peasant seduced, and made pregnant, by none other than Federico Fellini , (who co-wrote the script with Rossellini and Tullio Pinelli). Magnani believes her seducer to be St Jospeh and the baby she is carrying to be some sort of new Messiah, (it was this that so offended the powers that be). Again she is magnificent, (Rossellini dedicated the film 'to the art of Anna Magnani"), in a role totally different from the part she plays in "The Human Voice". It is easy to see how this second part could be released separately from the first, (they are very different in tone), and this small masterpiece is as great a 'short' film as the cinema has given us. Nevertheless, seeing both parts together is testament to the genius of both director and star. Essential.