Italian Neorealism

(1943-1954)

Years before the French New Wave would be celebrated for its guerilla
filmmaking techniques, neorealist directors such as Luchino Visconti, Vittorio
De Sica and Federico Fellini redefined how filmmakers could implement honest
portrayals of life on the big screen. With an emphasis on holding a mirror up to
society, the neorealist movement strived to portray real world struggles in the
aftermath of WWII, and did so to great effect.

How Italian Neorealism began

Throughout WWII, Benito Mussolini’s government had led the nation into
political and economic uncertainty, and Italy's film industry was consequently
in turmoil. In an attempt to disrupt the production of propaganda, the
prestigious Cinecittà film studios were severely damaged by the allied forces,
making the studio unusable for the foreseeable future. This ultimately forced
Italian directors to seek alternative filmmaking practices, despite having few
options to choose from.

Simultaneously, a group of critics writing for Cinema had become gravely

disillusioned by ‘Telefoni Bianchi’ flicks – commercial films that imitated
American comedies and had no interest in the struggles of the working class.
Although this frustration towards conservative, escapist cinema was somewhat
suppressed in print (in fact, Cinema’s editor-in-chief was the son of Mussolini
himself), the popular belief that the industry was no longer creating films
relevant to the public prevailed. This, along with the destruction of
Cinecittà film studios, led to a sudden shift in Italian cinematic storytelling,
both in terms of filmmaking techniques and the topics of discussion. These two
defining factors would ultimately lead to the rise of neorealism.

With a severe lack of resources but an abundance of real world issues to

address, Italian filmmakers who had previously shot traditional productions at
Cinecittà film studios were now taking to the streets with minimal equipment,
non-professional actors and an unbreakable belief in their sociopolitical
purpose. The end of WWII and the consequent end of German occupation then
allowed the neorealist movement to thrive artistically, discussing sociopolitical
turmoils and real world struggles in a way that was never possible under
Mussolini’s rule.
"I try to capture reality, nothing else." - Roberto Rossellini

The movement gained international attention when Roberto Rossellini’s Rome,

Open City won the Grande Prize at the 1946 Cannes Film Festival, and Italian
Neorealism's brutally honest portrayals of the working class and their enduring
struggles became known as the country's cinematic 'golden era' – a title that it
undeniably deserves. (Source)

Italian Neorealist Films (1943 - 1954)

The roots of Italian neorealism owe much to Benito Mussolini.
Under the dictator’s rule, the Fascist regime had fostered a
homegrown film industry. This included the founding of a national
film school, the Centro Sperimentale di Cinematografia, and
opening of the Cinecittà film studio. Many of neorealism’s leading
lights cut their teeth making documentaries for the Fascist party,
including Roberto Rossellini who cultivated his vérité aesthetic
with films made under the regime.

In the years after the war ended, neorealism became a form of

national cinema that was feted far beyond the borders of Italy. As
a movement, it constituted a collection of exceptional filmmakers
working contemporaneously to the same ideology and aesthetic
criteria. But as every movement from German expressionism to
Dogme ’95 has demonstrated, filmmakers working to a set of
strict aesthetic criteria will exhaust their energies within a very
short period of time. From Luchino Visconti’s Ossessione (1943)
to De Sica’s Umberto D (1952), Italian neorealism burned briefly
but very brightly.

Vittorio De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves (1948)

``Classical cinema is a cinema of perception whereas
art cinema is one of interpretation.``
 Roberto Rossellini’s Rome, Open City (1945)

``In hindsight, Rome, Open City still owes much to

the melodrama of Hollywood.``
The dominant ideology of neorealism is socialist, with a strong
focus on themes such as the War, unemployment and the effects of
poverty on a society. In terms of narrative, it marks a rejection of
neat narrative resolution and other conventions associated with
Hollywood. What we now know as classical neorealism would not
truly emerge until the end of World War II. When we think of
neorealism, we think of Rome Open City (1945). Rossellini began
shooting his film in the weeks following the liberation of Rome in
June 1944, and it was the first neorealist film released after the
war. Rome, Open City is a bold year-zero manifesto that exhibits
all the standard characteristics of the movement.
Great art is often borne under duress, and Rossellini’s film is a
perfect example. His was an aesthetic produced by a combination
of anger, rebellion and necessity. The damage inflicted on
Cinecitta by the war had as much bearing on Rossellini’s choice of
using real locations as a desire to eschew the artifice of the studio
picture. The film’s grainy documentary style was a result of
shooting on mismatched film stock cobbled together from
whatever was available.

Other elements of the mise-en-scéne, such as natural lighting,

absence of non-diegetic sound and the use of non-professional
actors (or professional actors playing against type) were also the
result of using whatever resources were at his disposal. Of the new
realist aesthetic that he had created, Rossellini said, “I am not
trying to show reality, I am attempting to recreate realism”. Rome,
Open City is an attempt to engender a national cinema that
addresses itself to the rest of the world. It symbolised a country
looking at itself and taking stock after the war, and projecting its
findings outward. Its ideology may embody a Marxist sensibility,
but in hindsight, Rome, Open City still owes much to the
melodrama of Hollywood.

Where Rome, Open City is an ensemble piece that follows

multiple narrative arcs, the individual characters can be read as
metonyms for societal classes. De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves still
retains the neorealist emphasis on social themes, but focusses on
fleshed-out real characters rather than types. The story is
simplicity itself. A man’s bicycle is stolen leaving him unable to
work, and he wanders the streets of Rome with his son looking for
the thief. Antonio Ricci (Lamberto Maggiorani) is a synecdoche of
Italy’s working class. His son, the expressive, cherub-faced Bruno
(Enzo Staiola) represents the future post-war generation. Like
Rossellini before him, De Sica’s two main performers were chosen
for their look and movements rather than for professional acting
ability. This rejection of familiar patterns of performance disrupts
the preconceptions of the audience and contributes greatly to the
verisimilitude of the narrative.
De Sica had co-adapted the screenplay with the architect of Italian
neorealism, Cesare Zavattini. It was Zavattini’s call for a type of
new cinema – a cinema that addressed the social and political
realities of contemporary Italy – that had planted the seeds of
neorealism. The message at the heart of Bicycle Thieves is that the
working class must steal from each other in order to survive. In
contrast to Rossellini’s address to the world, De Sica’s Bicycle
Thieves turns its gaze away from society as a whole and instead
looks inwards, making a virtue of the intensely personal. The
ambiguous resolution of Bicycle Thieves mirrors the uncertain
future of modernism.

(*Notes Collated from various sources)