How Italian Neorealism Changed Everything About the Movies You Love
The resilient beauty of ordinary people
It goes without saying that Americans can be insular, incurious, and suspicious of foreign cinema, especially that coming from “communist” Europe. Not as true of the better educated urban centers or the east and west coasts, but taken on the aggregate, most Americans, when given a choice between an emotionally nuanced, black-and-white foreign film with subtitles versus…well, just about any other film, Americans will choose just about any other film.
Hey, I get it. Americans consume liquor and entertainment in much the same way and for many of the same reasons: not for the pleasure or the enjoyment, but to escape. We are too tired to learn things. We’d much rather queue up a Marvel comics schlockbuster than suffer the inconvenience of subtitles and a mildly embarrassed feeling that what we’re watching might be considered “arty.” Life is hard. Work is hard. Entertainment shouldn’t be hard.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with doing a little mindless movie-watching. But if you’ve seen one Vin Diesel movie too many and the stale Hollywood tropes and bad acting are getting to you, now might be a good time to investigate a few of the movies that came out during Italy’s Golden Age from 1943-1952—what is otherwise known as Italian neorealism. Because that stuff is the bomb.
To understand how and why Italian neorealism is essential to the narrative of cinema, you need a little context.
In the 1930s, Italy’s fascist dictator, Benito Mussolini, saw value in filmmaking as a way to further his political agenda, yes, but also as a reflection of Italy’s long tradition in creative brilliance. He founded the Venice Film Festival in 1932 and Cinecittà film studios in Rome in 1937, paving the way for telefoni bianchi films, poorly made and highly idealized movies in which white telephones were a prominent feature of Art Deco sets. The movies were an imitation of American comedies of the 30s, promoting all the values fascists loved: family values, the salubriousness of country living, adorable children in Shirley Temple curls.
The future neorealist filmmakers hated those movies.
Many of the neorealists started out as film critics for a magazine called Cinema, run by Mussolini’s cretinous son, Vittorio. During WWII, Vittorio, who described killing as “exceptionally good fun,” nevertheless allowed openly left-wing, Jewish critics, writers and directors to lob word-grenades at those silly telefoni bianchi films.
After Mussolini’s fascist dictatorship fell in the spring of 1945 and Mussolini himself was hanged, along with his mistress, from the metal crossbar of a Milanese gas station, Italy was free at last from German occupation. What happened next, the “Italian Spring” is somewhat misleadingly named since most Italians lived in excoriating poverty. Neorealist filmmakers like Luchino Visconti, Roberto Rossellini, and Vittorio de Sica wanted to take an unflinching look at the living conditions of that period.
Masterpieces like Rossellini’s Roma Città Aperta, or Rome, Open City, with the incomparable Anna Magnani, is considered one of the most important works of Italian neorealism. Cinecittà studios lay in postwar rubble, which forced the neorealists to shoot on location, mostly in rundown cities or open fields. This was a huge departure from the heavily stylized movies shot inside studios. Suddenly, everything looked real because it was real—right down to the talent. As a general rule, non-professional actors were used. Locals were recruited for background shots instead of paid extras.
The films were almost always about poverty, injustice, desperation, and the hardships of working-class life after the war. No more white telephones and boujee storylines. Many consider it the most important film movement in the history of cinema, one that exerted vast influence on later film movements, such as the Polish Film School (i.e., Ashes and Diamonds), New Hollywood (i.e., Easy Rider), and French New Wave (i.e., The 400 Blows), all of which bear a significant role in the cinema we know today.
Italian neorealist film directors made it noble to be human. They got us out of the studios and onto the streets. They paved a path for geniuses like Federico Fellini. They created a cinematic document of a specific place and time in history. But when the country moved out of its postwar economic Depression and into a more prosperous decade, neorealist films were seen as bleak and unnecessary. De Sica’s 1952 brilliant film, Umberto D. was the last of its kind. Italians embraced the frivolity of 1950s cinema with almost maniacal glee.
In an American movie climate dominated by soulless sequels, comic book characters, and staggering insipidity, do yourself a favor. Save your brain. Watch one or all of the great Italian neorealism classics, and then wander back here and tell me which one is your favorite. Mine is Rome, Open City followed closely by The Bicycle Thief, but I will give you a short and by no means comprehensive list of other films you might enjoy, too.
Roma Città Aperta (Rome, Open City). A multi-character war drama centering primarily on the fate of one Resistance fighter trying to escape the city, aided and abetted by a Catholic priest.
Ladri di Biciclette (The Bicycle Thief). A poor father searches Rome for his stolen bicycle, knowing that without it, he won’t be able to provide for his hungry family.
Riso Amaro (Bitter Rice). Two petty thieves hide among the rice workers to escape imprisonment, but get caught up in a complex plot involving love, robbery, and murder.
Ossessione (Obsession). A slightly campy but utterly wonderful version of The Postman Always Rings Twice. The subject matter (adultery and murder) was so scandalous at the time, Catholic priests actually threw holy water on the audiences during initial screenings.
Bellissima. A satire of the Italian postwar film industry starring Anna Magnani, one of the greatest actresses of all time. She is mesmerizing in this film, one of her greatest roles. I wasn’t able to find a trailer with subtitles, but this clip will give you an idea of what’s awaiting you once you find a close captioned version.
Do you have a favorite Italian neorealism film or a film that has been influenced by this Golden Age of cinema? I’m eager to hear all about it. Please leave your comments below.
Damnit, I misread "nearealism" as "neoliberalism" like 3 times before I realized my mistake.
White telephones ... as product placement goes, that makes no sense to me.