Rapid Response: Paisan

Roberto Rossellini’s second film in his War Trilogy truly knows what it is to be an Italian and to be affected by the war.

“You simply don’t speak Italian in a hurry,” says an American soldier in the first of six stories of “Paisan.” It’s a funny line within my fast talking Italian family, but “Paisan” is Roberto Rossellini’s second film in his war trilogy and portrait of Italian life during World War II, and it achieves its “neorealistic” slice of life by taking its time across Italian culture and lifestyles.

Like “Rome, Open City” before it, this film is neorealistic because of its pessimistic tone and grave images of poverty and troubled living during wartime. Rossellini may already be going against the tendencies of his first film to be real through non-actors, on-location filming and straight forward stories, because “Paisan” is surprisingly Hollywood. It’s complete with American actors, swelling scores and even a few action heavy scenarios. And yet each ends anti-climatically if not downright sad.

In one story, the American MP befriending a poor, parentless Italian boy turns away when he witnesses just how bad the boy’s conditions are. In another, two heros will spend their entire time negotiating past blockades and barriers only to end up dead just short of the finish line. And in a third, a soldier will forever lose the love of his life when he fails to recognize her, forced into prostitution after the war has taken everything.

Amid it all though is a sense of fortitude, excitement and determination. We see courtesy in homeowners opening themselves to danger at the hands of the Germans, we see American soldiers admiring the architecture of buildings older than their country, and we see spirituality that helps monks get through the horrors and misfortune of war. There’s courtesy, hospitality and a pervasive sense of culture coursing through “Paisan’s” veins, and that’s what makes it such a powerful statement.

Not all war films take up the helm this easily. When compared to American films, there’s a difference between jingoism and culture, and “Paisan” knows what it is to call Italy home, for better or worse.

 

Side by Side: Rome Open City and Los Olvidados

Roberto Rossellini and Luis Bunuel’s films are early examples of neorealism.

Luis Bunuel opens his 1953 film “Los Olvidados,” or “The Young and the Damned,” with a disclaimer that explains his film is true, not optimistic and leaves everything to society’s progressive forces to solve. The film is about the poverty, crime and hardship that’s befallen Mexico as a result of the institution. It could very well be the same description as Roberto Rossellini’s “Rome, Open City.”

With “Rome, Open City” in 1945, Rossellini effectively invented the film movement known as “neorealism.” These films shot on location with non-actors and focused on ordinary lives as they were in the world. And starting in 1945 immediately after the war, Rossellini’s War Trilogy that included this film, “Paisan” and “Germany Year Zero”, were scathing indictments and portraits of the Italian lifestyle that had grown out of the war. Its early protagonist Pina (Anna Magnani) is the fiancee of an Italian insurgent named Francesco (Francesco Grandjacquet), and his associate going under the alias Luigi Ferraris (Marcello Pagliero) is being hunted by the Nazis.

But mostly, their casual scheming and getting around officers is a way of life. We see kids playing football in an alley, hiding rebels, talking on the phone with the certainty that the Gestapo are listening, and parenting with all the salt of an Italian household. Even the kids take an involvement in the war, sneaking home late under a secret underground pathway of rubble after staging an explosion on the far side of town. There’s a beautiful shot of them returning home that highlights the poverty and the valor that came out of the war effort. Continue reading “Side by Side: Rome Open City and Los Olvidados”