#285: Rome, Open City
A stark look at the last days of fascism in Rome
This review was originally posted to Twitter on July 1, 2020.
Initial release: September 27, 1945
Director: Roberto Rossellini
“Realism” as a film movement is ironically a bit of an oddity, in that its intense focus on authenticity at all costs makes for slow-paced films that eschew traditional dramatic license. Whether it be “socialist realism” from the Soviet Union and its satellites, or “neorealism” from Italy, the defining feature of realism as a genre is a lack of pretentiousness that is in itself somewhat pretentious. The actors tend to be no-names or amateurs; there’s very little in the way of cinematography or effective visuals. We can see this in the likes of Andrzej Wajda’s early work, especially his famous thematic trilogy of war films. Not too far from Poland, and a little before Wajda’s time, Roberto Rossellini was making Italian neorealist flicks like Rome, Open City.
It’s early 1944. With the fall of the Fascist regime after the Allies invaded in 1943, Germany has formally taken over and crushed Italy under its jackboot. In Rome, the Nazis are hunting for a particular resistance member, which really puts a damper on his upcoming wedding. Slated to officiate over the wedding is Don Pietro, who himself has been playing a small part in the resistance. The ties between these two men and that of the resistance drive the film, and will ultimately shape their fate and that of everyone around them.
This kind of film shies away from the moody visuals of film noir or the edgy editing of more straightforward action films. Instead, we get a lot of actors sitting in on-location sets and talking. What action there is, is often shot simply and without fanfare. Rome, Open City, is no different from others like it in this regard, but it perhaps has a better claim to authenticity than many for being shot mere months after Italy’s liberation. Rome was still partially in ruins when filming began, and these scars are visible on the film. In fact, being shot before Italy had even been completely liberated meant that Rossellini and crew had a number of technical issues to deal with, including a lack of film, until a lucky meeting with an American soldier in the Signal Corps who passed them unused film. This having to put the film together by hook and by crook shows in the way the film was shot on different stock. The constraints on filming mean that when Rossellini does try to do something interesting, it stands out, because it meant he wanted to emphasize a particular moment.
Still, though, this is a slow-burning talker that rides almost entirely on its performances, chiefly that of Aldo Fabrizi, who plays the priest. This film is really Don Pietro’s story, and the real-life priest he was based on was the original basis for the film being made. There’s also a gang of young boys, Italy’s very own Dead End Kids, who engaged in resistance work of their own, and who themselves were based on real-life children in the resistance. They don’t really add much to the film, but their appearance at the end is poignant.
Fabrizi’s performance makes this film worth watching, especially the climax where he’s forced to watch as a friend is tortured to death, and his moral triumph over the SS stooge overseeing it all. But it’s otherwise a slow burn that arguably takes a little too long to get there.
