Rome, Open City

1945 "Our battle has barely begun."
8| 1h43m| en
Details

During the Nazi occupation of Rome in 1944, the leader of the Resistance is chased by the Nazis as he seeks refuge and a way to escape.

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Also starring Marcello Pagliero

Also starring Harry Feist

Reviews

BootDigest Such a frustrating disappointment
Reptileenbu Did you people see the same film I saw?
Alistair Olson After playing with our expectations, this turns out to be a very different sort of film.
Lachlan Coulson This is a gorgeous movie made by a gorgeous spirit.
l_rawjalaurence Filmed under extreme circumstances in the aftermath of the German withdrawal, ROME: OPEN CITY tells a straightforward tale of Resistance fighters battling against the Nazi occupiers. Three of them are eventually caught, including the priest Don Pietro Pellegrini (Aldo Fabrizi) and hanged, tortured or forced to commit suicide. Meanwhile Pina (Anna Magnani) is shot down in cold blood after she tries to rescue her prospective husband Manfredi (Marcello Pagliero).This bald plot-summary cannot do justice to a film that is quite simply brilliant. Although classed as a neo-realist piece, director Roberto Rossellini does not favor the extensive use of pans or long- shots to establish the situations; there are comparatively few shots of a war-destroyed Rome, except at the film's end. Instead Rossellini uses a more domestic palette, with plenty of shots of dilapidated apartment-blocks in dire need of restoration, or seedy rooms where the Resistance fighters hatch their plans. The streets are desolate, peopled only by a few horses and carts - apart from the occasion when a Nazi force comes to root out their enemies, accompanied by their superior officers in expensive-looking cars. Contrast the desolation of the Roman streets with the opulence of the Nazi quarters, where the sadistic interrogator Major Bergmann (Harry Feist) takes his mind off torturing his enemies by sipping brandies and listening to soft piano music while placing a paternal arm round his girlfriend. Even though their days of occupation might be numbered, there is no reason why they should not continue to enjoy the high life.The film contains some memorable sequences, photographed by Ubaldo Arata. As the Nazi troops search for their enemies in an apartment block, the camera tilts upwards to show the apparently endless flights of stairs. The action cuts to the priest and the little boy Francesco (Francesco Grandjacquet) looking down the flights of stairs to ascertain where the troops are. The effect is dizzying, making us aware of the impending sense of danger. Later on Pina's death-scene is also memorably filmed, as she runs towards a tracking camera in a futile attempt to rescue her fiancé. A shot rings out, and she crumples to the ground; the camera immediately switches to a medium close-up of Manfredi's horrified face (as he is taken away by the Nazis) followed by another tracking shot of Francesco running out from the crowd towards his dead mother, screaming wildly.The torture-scenes still remain difficult to watch. We do not actually see anything bloody; instead Rossellini achieves his dramatic effect through Manfredi's screams on the soundtrack intercut with the Priest's horrified countenance as he witnesses what is happening. The Nazis know no bounds when it comes to extracting information out of their victims. It is a tribute to Manfredi's stoicism that he refuses to talk under any form of duress.The final sequence is also memorable as the Priest is executed by firing-squad in a lonely field outside the city. Rossellini uses a group-shot of local children burying their heads in their hands as they hear the fatal shot to achieve his dramatic effect. To the accompaniment of dramatic music (by Renzo Rossellini) he cuts to a long shot of the ruined city as the action draws to a close. The only way to endure occupation is through resistance and stoicism, even under the most extreme pressure.If we wanted to be reminded of what life was truly like under the Third Reich, ROME: OPEN CITY is a seminal text.
ElMaruecan82 It holds an odd but very understandable significance that one of the most impacting post-World War II movies ever was from Italy. I say "odd" because Italy is perhaps the only country that started as an ally to Germany before being invaded by her very ally (not to mention the real ones) in 1943 after the fall of Mussolini. It was the failure of the fascist dream that left Italy an open country for the German invasion, with the capital Rome, as an open city.Italians saw their country literally collapsing, their fleet annihilated, the North African campaign cut short by the Allies, Italy relegated to the ungrateful small-time role in the scale of World War II, a casting error that cost so much time and efforts for Germans, notably in Greece, that its downfall caused the anger of Hitler and made it a priority to control Italy and restore the fascist regime of Mussolini (from that point, a German puppet). Despite all the resistant movements, Italy's loss wasn't just economical, but also symbolical, and what strikes in Roberto Rosselini's film is how lucid Italian people are, it's silent anger that fuel their force with vital energy. That anger wouldn't be as silent one when they'll get a hand on the ex-Duce, and I guess his fate showed how much resentment they had to vent.Nonetheless, people's anger has never be so dignified in a film without it being unrealistic, you really feel it in the general mood, even in people's way to express resignation. And the reason why this is so perceptible in the film is because Rosselini shot it shortly after the end of the war, among real ruins, and the screenplay was written while the German presence was still a fact. It's a film shot with an urge to be made and brought up at time as if Rosselini and all the actors knew they were participating to an important project, one that would show to the face of the world, that Italian were as much victims as any other countries and were not allies of the Nazi, the real Italian heart beat in the Roman streets not in a parliament.Ultimately, the film didn't end up being a powerful tribute to the sense of sacrifice and the fortitude of Italian people, it's also a magnificent and powerful tribute to all the people, in all the countries in the world that resisted the German invasion or any other invasion. The film holds a similar significance than other contemporary movies' scenes like Chaplin's final speech in "The Great Dictator" or the Marseillaise in "Casablanca". Except that it was made in more restrictive conditions. So, don't take its uneven quality, the different level of brightness and lighting as some effects to provide documentary-like realism or some artistic license. The film was made in secrecy and urgency as if it was part of a resistance movement itself.But Cinema is a world of imagery, and the film had one to offer, one that forever captures the tragedy of war and the wounds it inflicted to people. The image of Anna Magnani running, arms raised, to the truck, that is taking her soon-to-be husband, only to be shot dead by the Nazis, under the eyes of her son. It was Scorsese's "Voyage to Italy" that prepared me to this scene, one of those that impacted him the most, and for some reason, I thought it was the end of the film, as the one emotional highlight the film could have. The death of a pregnant woman, a strong mother, a future wife, whose beliefs was shaken by war's reality, was a powerful allegory of a country carrying bright hopes only to see its dreams annihilated by a barbaric force. Anna Magnani didn't play an Italian, she was Italy.And the supporting cast is a microcosm of the best and the 'worst' that war can bring, an actively resistant priest played by Aldo Fabrini and a communist (Marcello Pagliero), there is also an interestingly flawed character in Marina (Maria Michi), a cabaret dancer who prostituted herself by selling information to a female informant agent and lover, to afford some fancy lifestyle, convincing herself that she never really hurt anyone. In a way, she embodies the attitude of Mussoloni when he sold Italians' soul to the German, in the firm belief that it was the right horse to bet… until Hitler, wrapped up in his megalomania decided to invade USSR. And the way, Marina Is finally treated at the end, echoed the way Italy was left and the disgraceful punishment that awaited the Duce and his followers. "Rome, Open City" is about people who incarnate the Italian spirit, oscillating between two poles, the true Italian like Anna Magnani and the wounded and weakened Italy (closer to Marina) People are torn between their patriotism, their belief in humanity and in barbarity, but all in all, only humanity can triumph, and it even inspires a Nazi officer to confront Captain Hartmann, the sadistic antagonist of the film played by Dutch actor Joop van Hulzen. He wonders why Germans dare to call themselves the Master Race, which race of lords can torture people to death, execute priests or mothers. Despite Van Hulzen's slightly over-the-top performance, you could feel that Rosselini didn't want to portray the Germans as a one-dimensional evil group either, and that foresees his future "Germany Year Zero" where he'd shine a light on the other forgotten victims of World War II: the German people. But while this film relied too much on amateur actors, "Rome Open City" is a cinematic triumph because only performances from true actors could communicate the right emotions and would have the right impact on the world.Rosselini's casting choices proved him right, and "Rome, Open City" is a masterful melodrama, a historical document and a great tribute to anonymous heroes who wrote the most glorious lines of Italian history.
Cosmoeticadotcom Rome Open City is a good film, but it is clearly a far more historically important film than an artistically great one (the predominance of hagiography and agitprop make this almost inevitable). Too many times its lead characters, be they Italians or Germans, good guys or bad guys, fall into stereotypes, and the action plunges into melodrama. Pina's senseless death is the best example, as she would truly have to be stupid to do such a thing in real life, with her son right there. But, it does set up the rest of the film's drama and narrative pieces. And there can be some rightful criticism of the film's dishonest portrayal of the Italian Resistance (which was virtually nothing in comparison to the French Resistance), culpability for the Second World War, and relative prosperity and lack of internal destruction versus other European nations. Nonetheless, the film did sweep the Cannes Film Festival and many others worldwide, and it has a number of touches that redeem its clichés, such as having Don Pietro's glasses be broken so that he can only hear, not see, Manfredi's slow death, or the literal killing of two lambs by the Nazis right before Marina betrays Manfredi, which, in its rendering is far more affecting than in its mere description. It should also be mentioned that in a brief scene, an Italian tot's naked bottom half (including genitalia) is shown, which both adds to the claims of realism, and satisfies the dramatic arc of the moment, highlighting how silly most censored scenes and moments in film are. Rome Open City does not broach greatness, but it does entertain and inspire, even almost two thirds of a century after its conception, and sometimes that's something which has even more effect than hermetic greatness. So, ciao, and it's on to Paisan!
ackstasis On its initial release, Roberto Rossellini's 'Rome, Open City (1945)' was hailed for its harrowing documentary realism, sharing the 1946 Palme d'Or, and even today it is regarded as the type specimen of Italian neorealism, a movement that produced such treasures as 'The Bicycle Thief (1948)' and 'Umberto D. (1952).' The film's photographic style, which is coarse and unstylised, could certainly be considered classically neorealistic, as could Rossellini's unavoidable preoccupation with Italy's fascist history and war-time devastation. One might suggest that the film's unexceptional film-making technique was imposed upon Rossellini rather than being an entirely deliberate artistic decision; the Germans had only just withdrawn from Rome, and its citizens were still reeling from years of Nazi occupation and Allied bombing. Just as Carol Reed filmed 'The Third Man (1949)' amid the crumbling ruins of war-torn Vienna, Rossellini uses the backdrop of a fallen city to emphasise the disintegration of a formerly unified nation, now surviving only in fragmented patches of human spirit that must now be forged back together again.Rossellini's film is most often praised for its realism, and for its primary focus on the ordinary citizens of Rome. However, during the film's first half, I didn't find this approach entirely successful. Rather than centering the film intimately on one or two characters, as Vittorio De Sicae did in his two well-known neorealist films, 'Open City' instead jumps from one to another, manufacturing a sense of unity among the oppressed citizens of Rome, but also diluting the viewer's ability to identify with any one character. In this sense, the film is similar to Pontecorvo's 'The Battle of Algiers (1966),' or even Eisenstein's 'Battleship Potemkin (1925),' in that individual characters hold lesser prominence than the ideals for which they are fighting. Suggesting that the art of neorealism took several years to perfect, Rossellini also occasionally veers towards melodrama. Scenes involving the arrogant Major Bergmann (Harry Feist) establish a simplistic "us versus them" mentality, offering Germany as the outright villain in a manner similar to that of any early 1940s American propaganda film.I must admit that I found myself less-than-captivated during the film's opening half, perhaps because Rossellini wouldn't focus exclusively on any one character. The most interesting moments were those tinged with drama – a German soldier unexpectedly removes a gun from his pocket, a terrorist bomb shakes the city buildings. But if I had any doubts about the director's technique, then the harrowing realism of Anna Magnani's death, photographed as though through the lens of a bystanding newsreel camera, without any dramatic fanfare or unnecessary cinematic punctuation, convinced me of its merits. Notably, Rossellini deviates towards drama in his film's second half, but I considered this an improvement, my complete sympathy now directed towards a specific character, the dignified Roman priest Don Pietro (Aldo Fabrizi). The German treatment of captured rebels is unflinching in its hostility, including a prolonged torture session with a blow-torch, and a sombre firing squad execution as city children watch on with downcast eyes. Interestingly, Rossellini doesn't end the film with an Italian victory, as might be expected. The misery lingers; any victory could only be hollow.