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Film: Il Generale della Rovere
Year of production: 1959
UK Release date: 4th July 2011
Distributor: Arrow
Certificate: 12
Running time: 134 mins
Director: Roberto Rossellini
Starring: Vittorio De Sica, Hannes Messemer, Vittorio Caprioli, Nando Angelini, Herbert Fischer
Genre: Drama/War
Format: DVD
Country of Production: Italy/France
Language: Italian/Germany
Review by: Matthew Evans
Directed by Roberto Rossellini, one of Italy's most famous neorealist filmmakers, Il Generale della Rovere won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival in 1959. Set during the Second World War, it seeks out and explores the darker aspects of human nature and many people's opportunist actions during times of war.
It is 1943 and Grimaldi (Vittorio De Sica), an apparent colonel in the Italian army, busies himself by swindling the residents of Genoa. Seeking out families whose loved ones have been imprisoned by the Nazis, Grimaldi promises to use his military contacts to ensure they are neither executed or deported to Germany and, in return, charges sizeable sums of money. However, when the Gestapo catch wind of his actions, he is promptly arrested and hauled before S.S. Colonel Mueller (Hannes Messemer).
But Grimaldi is in for a surprise. Instead of facing trial, which would most likely result in death by firing squad, Mueller makes him an intriguing offer: he may live if he agrees to impersonate the General della Rovere, a leader of the resistance who has, despite Mueller's orders to the contrary, been shot by the Nazis. Assuming the General's identity would land Grimaldi in a political jail for several years, where he would be forced to report back to Mueller with information, but it would save him from almost certain death.
Accepting Mueller's offer, Grimaldi assumes the identity of the General and finds himself charged with the task of identifying another resistance leader. However, as time passes, Grimaldi is torn between his debt to the Nazi colonel and the resistance fighters on which he is spying. Grimaldi's time in jail forces him to come to terms with his inability to declare allegiance to either side and eventually repent for his immoral actions during the war…
Described by Martin Scorsese as “the father of us all,” Roberto Rossellini can be credited with having a huge influence on future filmmakers; inspiring the likes of the French New Wave and even British social-realist films of the ‘60s. What's more, Il Generale della Rovere can be said to be one of Rossellini's most widely distributed films in the United States, aside from his war trilogy (Rome Open City; Paisan; and Germany Year Zero).
Whilst more formulaic than many of his other films, Il Generale offers a stark and often disturbing depiction of many people's seemingly nonchalant response to the atrocities committed by the Nazis. Grimaldi, a man whose moral judgement is somewhat shaky to say the least, embodies what many people have found so disturbing about the actions (or inaction) of those under Nazi occupation. Not only does Grimaldi turn a blind eye to the actions of the Nazis, but he's willing to befriend them, in order to extort his fellow Italians.
There is a scene nearing the end of the film where a man, locked in a cell, screams, “I didn't do anything!” However, when a fellow inmate responds, “Neither did we”, the man retorts, “But you're Jews.” The unwillingness of Italians to confront their unwanted Nazi guests is no better illustrated than in this scene. So long as their actions did not infringe on his liberties, the individual yelling, “I didn't do anything,” would happily stand by and let the Nazi's go about cleansing society of Jews. Many people were willing to accept distasteful ideology in return for a quite life.
Grimaldi straddled the line between both camps even more overtly. Whilst in conversation with fellow Italians, he confesses his dislike of their Nazi guests. Yet, when in conversation with Mueller, he expresses his support for the war. Furthermore, when arrested, he is more than prepared to give up the identities of resistance fighters, in return for a safe passage through the war.
Vittorio De Sica's performance as Grimaldi is captivating and has often been described as the best of his career. However, Hannes Messemer's superb portrayal of Mueller is one that is often overlooked. Just like Grimaldi, Mueller's commitment often wavers. His distaste for the use of torture and execution puts him at odds with many of his duties as a colonel. After ordering the torture of a prisoner, the news of the man's death seems to distress Mueller in a way one would not expect from a Nazi colonel. The captivating portrayal of both men, at odds with their conscience when faced with the chaos of war, is surely what makes Il Generale such a successful and intriguing film.
Whilst the film is more formulaic than some fans of Rossellini might prefer, there is much to be said for its cinematography. The manner in which the camera follows those on screen, often for extended periods of time, adds to our understanding of the characters. An example of this is Grimaldi's arrival at the Wehrmacht headquarters, where we follow him up the staircase, into a waiting room filled with townspeople and, finally, into the main office. This scene comes early in the film and, at this point, we are unaware of Grimaldi's activities. However, as we follow Grimaldi through the waiting room, we become acutely aware of his discomfort; he doesn't seem to fit in amongst the other townspeople.
Il Generale della Rovere may not be as gritty as some of Rossellini's other work but, whilst it retains a conventional structure, it does infuse this with Rossellini's trademark neorealism. Ultimately, the film's success lies with its two lead performances and their ability to convey the almost schizophrenic nature of those societies who found themselves under Nazi occupation. Il Generale offers an uncompromising insight into the immorality of some and the indecisiveness of others; both of which can be said to contribute to the atrocities that are committed during times of war.
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Film: Bicycle Thieves
Release date: 12th April 2010
Certificate: U
Running time: 87 mins
Director: Vittorio De Sica
Starring: Lamberto Maggiorani, Enzo Staiola, Lianella Carell, Gino Salamerenda
Genre: Crime/Drama
Studio: Arrow
Format: DVD
Country: Italy
Roberto Rossellini’s Rome, Open City (1945) reached worldwide recognition and acclaim, paving the way for other Italian Neo-realist directors that would go on to inspire generations of New Wave artists. Vittorio De Sica’s adaptation of the Luigi Bartolini novel, The Bicycle Thieves is a classic embodiment of the genre, and still stands today as an acute representation of its time and place.
Lamberto Maggiorani’s Antonio Ricci finds himself a job putting up posters after two years of unemployment with only a single clause: the poverty stricken father of two must show up on his first day with a bicycle. Antonio's wife pawns their bed linen so that her husband can once again claim his rightful place as the breadwinner of the family.
With everything seemingly on the up for the Ricci household, disaster strikes on Antonio’s first day into the job as his bike is stolen right in front of his eyes. A desperate search ensues by father and son, as they comb the vast city of Rome for the Fidus bike. Obstructed by a marketplace displaying row after row of bicycles, a mysterious tramp, the church and a blood thirsty mob combined, father and son also have their conscience to contend with in their flawed search for the already beaten vehicle…
Italian Neo-realism was a product and/or critique of the political circumstances in a country facing poverty and oppression following the Second World War. The director blends a story of hardship and labour, a reflection of the struggles that the Italian working class faced, with an engaging plot that would ultimately serve as a piece of political propaganda. The masses were able to experience the severity and consequences of the previous socialist government as a collective; the purpose of cinema had changed from a means of escape for the audience, to embracing the present and staring its problems straight on together.
De Sica's choice to cast non-actors in lead roles is a commonplace trait of the neo-realist genre, and Lamberto Maggiorani excels in the continuing slump of Antonio Ricci. What could be classed as a fall from grace is better described as a plummet, as the protagonist goes through all the motions during the eighty-seven minute duration, displaying bitter disappointment and anxiety before reaching breaking point. Enzo Staiola plays the faithful son Bruno Ricci, epitomising the hardships of neo-realism with his appearance alone. Staiola generates the more heartfelt performance, on hand to witness his father's demise.
Bicycle Thieves is an exploration into the human condition - Antonio's on-screen journey trundles through all aspects of desperation as his search for the stolen bike renders him ignorant and selfish. His helplessness is all the while revealed to his young son, who he unfairly expects to comprehend the devastation that lies ahead if their mission proves unsuccessful. Provoked and chastised by an angry mob, Antonio is prepared to use violence in front of the impressionable Bruno. The establishment breaks the lead character, the audience's closest connection, therefore sharing the same malice and torment inflicted upon Antonio.
The artistic quality of the film lies in the meticulously nurtured mise-en-scène. The back streets of Rome are impoverished and dilapidated, along with the spirits that dwell amongst the deteriorated surroundings. The city centre is vast and unforgiving, with the beautiful grandiosity of the architecture representing the dynasties of the powerful and rich that have respectfully controlled the ancient metropolis. Market places are endless and nauseating; the labyrinth of misleading alleyways ready to lead us astray. The camera work is precise, capturing the anguish and transgressions of the father - the intent of the perpetrators and the colossal urban terrain engulfing its inhabitants.
Then there's the soundtrack. Alessandro Cicognini's score provides the picture with colour - there's a sense of tragedy that allows the narrative to flow courtesy of a painful motif that reoccurs whenever the next dose of misery is injected.
There is a monotonous tone to Bicycle Thieves, and once the bike has been stolen and the agony sets in, the melancholic drone continues throughout, relentlessly clasping its grip around the two main characters, unmercifully holding on till the end credits. De Sica's effort and execution is unquestionably brilliant, and whilst there's sentimentality by the bucket load, it doesn't for one minute affect the credibility of the film. Suspense created by scenes such as the first visit to the fortune teller's apartment are perfectly paced; Antonio's naive faith in his fellow man, as he asks the playing boys to watch his bike, wouldn't seem so foolish if it weren't for the title of the film, thus making it the perfect narrative device.
Antonio's final act of self destruction serves as the crushing blow - the social order of Italy leads to despair, dragging our protagonist down to immoral depths that could never have been expected. It draws empathy, and would draw sympathy from the audience had this act not subjected his own son to humiliation and shame.
De Sica's world encompasses beauty and splendour in its surroundings, home to an impassioned and resolute populous. There lies a cold and tainted atmosphere in post-war Italy. A strict policy of 'survival of the fittest' applies, clashing with the romantic and trusting sensibilities of Antonio, causing a tragic corruption of his innocence. The upper classes eat in the most coveted restaurants, oblivious to the turmoil and struggle of those beneath them, whilst the humble Antonio reveals to his son the dreams and aspirations that came with his job.
This is a master class in precision filmmaking that will be forever cherished by cinema lovers. Undoubtedly worthy of its honorary Oscar in 1950, Bicycle Thieves is a perfect period piece, pushing viewers to the edge of destitution with both brutal and breathtaking sequences. JRO
