----------Warning: This article may contain spoilers!
Italian Neorealism was a national film movement focusing mostly on the stories of the poor and working class, in general everyday people back that time. These films, often shot on location with non-professional actors, vividly portrayed the harsh economic and moral conditions of post-World War II Italy and Europe. They reflected the changes in social psychology and the daily struggles of life, highlighting poverty, oppression, injustice, and despair. One of the most influential figures of this movement was Roberto Rossellini, whose anti-fascist outcome shaped his powerful post-war cinema. Rossellini is often credited as a founding force of Neorealism, alongside other notable directors such as Vittorio De Sica, whose most famous film "Ladri di Biciclette (Bicycle Thieves)” is considered a masterpiece of the genre. His works were so influential that it even inspired the French New Wave, cementing his place as a cinematic pioneer.
Rossellini, who lived from 1906 to 1977, was also known for his personal life. He was married to the legendary actress Ingrid Bergman, with whom he had a daughter, Isabella Rossellini. Together with Bergman, Rossellini made three films that many consider to have initiated modern cinema, contrasting sharply with the themes of Neorealism and rejecting its popularity at the time. More interestingly, early in his career, Rossellini made films for the fascist Italian regime, showcasing his pragmatic nature without detracting from his talent. As of the first decades of the 21st century, numerous films about World War II have been made so far, but Roberto Rossellini's War Trilogy holds a special place as a pioneering work. The trilogy, which is currently available as restored for modern audiences, also includes significant contributions from Federico Fellini as a screenwriter for the first two films. This collaboration not only brought Fellini to the forefront of world cinema but also enriched the Neorealist movement. Let's take a closer look at the films that make up this influential trilogy, which remain accessible and relevant even today.
The first film in the trilogy, Rome, Open City (Roma città aperta), released in 1945, is a spiritual exploration of the Italian Resistance during World War II. The story centers around the resistance leader Giorgio Manfredi (an alias for Luigi Ferraris, his actual name) and his close companions, as well as the German and Italian soldiers pursuing him on the fascist Italian side. The film generally distributes its protagonism across several characters, creating a rich, multi-faceted narrative: Giorgio, a symbol of hope for many, is hiding in Rome, evading capture by the soldiers. His primary supporters include fellow resistance member Francesco, Francesco’s fiancée Pina, and one of the most unforgettable characters of this very cinema: the Catholic priest Don Pietro. The film primarily focuses on these characters, depicting their efforts to change the course of events behind the scenes of the resistance. Despite Rome being declared an open city, the film portrays it as being under occupation, highlighting the contrast between daily life and the clandestine activities of the resistance.
Giorgio’s personal life plays a crucial role in the story. His lover Marina, who is initially among those he seeks support from, ultimately betrays him. Marina, manipulated by the Nazis into becoming a drug addict and drawn to luxury items, finds herself on a fragile line between love and hate. Her dependency and the lack of a strong foundation in her relationship with Giorgio lead her to betray him with unsettling ease, resulting in his capture. Midway through the film, also Francesco loses his pregnant fiancée Pina to a soldier’s bullet and during the ambush that captures Giorgio, Francesco narrowly escapes. Another key character, Don Pietro, is arrested and later executed for his unwavering support of the resistance. "Rome, Open City" captures the harrowing reality of resistance efforts and the personal sacrifices involved. It weaves together the destinies of its characters against the backdrop of a city struggling under the weight of occupation and war.
"Rome, Open City" received numerous awards and nominations, including the Grand Prize (Grand Prix du Festival International du Film, which later became the Palme d’Or) at the Cannes Film Festival. It was also nominated for the Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar at the Academy Awards. This film brought international recognition to director Roberto Rossellini, screenwriter Federico Fellini, and actress Anna Magnani. It marked a breakthrough for both Rossellini and Italian cinema, establishing a global presence. Set during the German occupation in Italy, the film is also notable for its portrayal of the common people's struggles. These elements contribute to the film's raw, realistic spirit and emotional impact, making it a revolutionary work and a landmark of the Neorealist movement.
The casting is, in general, remarkable, particularly Aldo Fabrizi as Don Pietro, one of the few professional actors in the film. His execution scene, accompanied by the whistling of children, is one of the most moving in cinema history, leaving audiences in tears. Another iconic moment is when the pregnant Pina, portrayed by Anna Magnani, is killed while running after her fiancé Francesco, who is being taken away by soldiers. Magnani's performance is second only to Fabrizi's. Another memorable scene involves a conversation between Nazi officers, where a superior officer, while drinking, tells a subordinate that they built their country on death and that everyone hates them. This candid depiction of the Nazis was quite daring for its time. The interrogation scenes leave a lasting impression as well, featuring detailed, though not overly graphic, depictions of torture. Overall, "Rome, Open City" stands as a stimulating film that not only captures the harsh realities of its time but also leaves an indelible mark on cinema history through its powerful performances and bold storytelling.
The second film in the trilogy, Paisan (Paisà), released in 1946, unfolds through six episodes, each depicting stories and memories spread across the nation during the period of occupation and liberation of Italy. It is a poignant anthology that captures the diverse and complex experiences of individuals during Italy's turbulent times, showcasing the profound effects of war on both soldiers and civilians:
In the first episode, a group of American soldiers collaborate with a local girl to navigate their way through enemy lines in the Sicilian countryside, only to face a tragic end.
The second episode portrays an American soldier who befriends a street child in Naples and discovers the harsh living conditions the child endures while tracking down a theft.
The third episode focuses on an American soldier and an Italian prostitute who spend a night together in post-war Rome. It is revealed that they share a romantic yet heartbreaking past, though the awareness of this history emerges one-sidedly due to the war's impacts.
The fourth episode is set in Florence, where American nurse Harriet, with the help of a partisan, attempts to cross from the safe side of the partially liberated city to the embattled side to see "Lupo," a partisan leader she knew before the war.
In the fifth episode, three American military chaplains are hosted at a monastery west of Rimini. The monks fast in hopes of converting two of the chaplains to Catholicism, while the Catholic one among those three finds peace after the war's hardships.
The sixth and final episode takes place just before the war ends, focusing on members of the OSS (Office of Strategic Services), collaborating with Italian partisans, and rescuing two British paratroopers in the Po Delta. However, they also face capture later by the Germans.
Each episode of "Paisan" begins with footage that imparts a documentary feel, making the viewing experience both fragmented and quite easily digestible. This structure presents simple yet emotionally and intellectually rich stories, grounded in reality and imbued with historical significance. Unlike the first film in the trilogy, "Paisan" prominently features contrasts and tendencies to unite among different nationalities and even religions. This gives the film a distinct character within the series. Although set on Italian soil, the American liberators often serve as the main protagonists, highlighting the international dimension of the story. One of the most moving episodes is the third, where the war’s trauma makes individuals who once connected deeply become unrecognizable to each other in a matter of months. This poignant depiction of war’s dehumanizing effects stands out as particularly moving. An impressive aspect of the film is its multilingual approach. Actors playing soldiers from various nations speak their native languages, a feat that adds to the film’s authenticity. Even today, films that tell multinational stories often find multilingualism challenging. Achieving this in the 1940s, seamlessly integrating it into the narrative, is a testament to the film’s exceptional attention to detail and realism. This effort deserves special recognition and enhances the film’s historical and cultural value.
The third and final film of the trilogy, Germany, Year Zero (Germania anno zero), released in 1948, tells the harrowing story of 12-year-old Edmund Köhler and stark portrayal of post-war Germany, combined with the raw performance of its young protagonist, makes it a powerful and heartbreaking conclusion to Rossellini's trilogy. Living in the ruins of post-war Berlin with his family, Edmund faces dire conditions. His father is seriously ill and unable to work, while his brother Karl-Heinz, a former Nazi soldier, must stay hidden to avoid persecution and therefore cannot work or even leave the house, and his sister Eva is on the brink of resorting to prostitution at night to make ends meet. While searching for work on the streets, Edmund encounters his former teacher, Mr. Henning, who still adheres to Nazi ideology and convinces Edmund that he should kill his father to relieve the family's burden, arguing that the weak must be sacrificed for the strong to survive. Influenced by these ideas, Edmund poisons his father, leading to his death after he has shown some improvement in health following regular meals at the hospital and coming back to home recently. Following his father's death, Edmund is overwhelmed by guilt and trauma. Unable to cope with the weight of his actions and the emotional turmoil that ensues, he spirals into a deep depression and ultimately takes his own life.
"Germany, Year Zero" presents a seemingly minimal plot, but its storytelling and the use of post-war Berlin's ruins aim to convey a harsh reality. By shooting amidst the rubble of a devastated Berlin, the film provides a powerful backdrop that underscores the destruction of Germany in the year following its near-total collapse in World War II. Like Rossellini's other works, this film predominantly features non-professional actors, enhancing its raw and realistic feel. This film's unique characteristic lies not only in its German setting but also in its stark portrayal of urban devastation and human misery through both narrative and technical choices. As the trilogy focuses on the impact of the war on Axis country citizens, this finale movie extends beyond Italy to illustrate the broader geographical suffering.
The story delves into deeper tragedy when young Edmund, after following his teacher's grim advice, is crushed under the weight of his actions. Up until this point, the film maintains a tragic yet narrative-driven tone, but it shifts to a secondary, more profound tragedy as Edmund’s psychological descent intensifies. His lifeless body at the end symbolizes the collapse of values, order, and imbalance brought by Nazism. Although the film features a pseudo coming-of-age story with Edmund at its center, the harsh conditions prematurely age and wear down everyone. The stark poverty and the contrast of Hitler's voice extolling the "great German race" playing on a record emphasize the film's bleak reality in another particular scene. Edmund's eventual realization and confrontation with his actions highlight a powerful thematic choice, showing the tragic acceptance of the belief that the weak must perish for the strong to thrive. The father's line, "Our generation brought about these days; we did nothing," acknowledges the public's role in Hitler's rise, while Karl-Heinz, the brother who cannot face society, serves as another reflection of post-war guilt and the consequences of Nazism. In summary, "Germany, Year Zero" is a stark and emotionally intense film that uses its minimalist narrative and realistic depiction of post-war Berlin to convey the devastating impact of war on individuals and society. It serves as a poignant reminder of the consequences of fascism and the deep scars left by conflict.
The success of Roberto Rossellini's trilogy is intricately tied to its timing. Depicting the resolution period of World War II, these films were created and released in the immediate aftermath of the war, capturing the raw and fresh emotions of the time. Despite the trilogy's often tragic tone, it also doesn’t escape much from conveying underlying messages of hope and encouragement through its characters and themes. Thus, while it portrays the devastating impact of war on individuals, it also reflects resilience and the human spirit's endurance. The trilogy's realism is so pronounced that it often feels like a documentary. "Paisan," in particular, includes short narratives and footage related to the war, enhancing its documentary-like quality. And rather than being structured as traditional narratives, these films serve also as humanistic documents, emphasizing the economic and moral conditions of post-war life.
The films aim to reflect and perhaps even strengthen national consciousness through their historical accuracy. The use of mostly non-professional actors and simple storytelling should not be overlooked, as it contributes significantly to the films' authenticity and impact. In summary, Rossellini's trilogy offers an unflinchingly honest portrayal of war and its aftermath. The lack of insincere sensationalism and the focus on the brutal realities of life provide a powerful and moving cinematic experience. These films are stark and unvarnished, delivering their messages with a clarity that leaves audiences speechless, even decades later. The trilogy’s ability to convey the harshness of reality without resorting to overtly violent scenes speaks volumes about the inherent brutality of war and the strength of the human spirit.
Mert Konuk
March 2025
---------- This review may contain spoilers!
Undoubtedly, the name that made Scandinavian Cinema most popular is the Swedish legend Ingmar Bergman. However, following him came Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki, Danish filmmakers Thomas Vinterberg and Lars Von Trier -with the movies both as a part and outside of the Dogme 95 movement- and more recently Swedish director Ruben Östlund. These directors, along with many others from this region, not only made the cinema of this geography popular among cinephiles looking for alternatives to box office monsters but also secured their places in cinema history with their original narratives. Another name that is on the verge of entering among these names with the works that this article will focus on is the Norwegian-Danish filmmaker Joachim Trier. Collaborating seamlessly with his compatriot Eskil Vogt (who has directed successful films such as “Blind”, which he also wrote and directed in 2014), he created the works forming the Oslo Trilogy: "Reprise," "Oslo, August 31st," and "The Worst Person in the World." These films reveal extraordinary harmony in their scripts, where intelligence and existentialism merge, connected by overlapping themes and also set in the Norwegian capital.
The common point of these films is the struggle of modern individuals with life and harmony with the universe, portraying those who weren’t able to grasp happiness, that are also unsure about the perseverance to chase after it, hence unable to lead an organized life but not hiding their efforts, whether small or large, for it. Their portraits depict souls in perpetual existential crisis and ongoing search, revealing the stories of these souls in a narrative that, despite its somewhat stagnant structure, manages to arouse interest and curiosity with an atmosphere and art direction that doesn't drown one in melancholy despite the natural coldness brought by their geography. After this brief introduction, which I believe has sparked enough excitement, let's take a closer look at the stories of this trilogy.
The trilogy's first film, shot in 2006 and also the director's first feature-length film, Reprise, narrates the story of Erik and Philip, who have been best friends since childhood and dream of becoming writers. After they simultaneously submit their manuscripts to publishers, Erik is rejected due to a lack of talent, while Philip quickly becomes a rising star in Norwegian literature. Subsequently, Philip experiences psychosis, is hospitalized, and loses his interest in both writing and life after being discharged a few months later. Meanwhile, Erik continues to chase his dream but hasn’t reached the desired point yet. Furthermore, for both of them, their love lives deeply impact their motivation towards life and the writing process. In light of all these factors, the film draws the audience into the suspense of whether the happy and hopeful days shown in the first few minutes of the movie will return, or if Philip will put an end to everything.
This work, which provides important clues about the director's cinema, is not the best film of the trilogy, but it is the youngest, most dreamy, and hopeful film. However, it is a very good first film and a precursor to even better ones. By delicately drawing the lines between “spiritual” mourning and healing, clinging to life and giving up, obsession and indifference through two existentialist main characters, it tries to keep the audience engaged with a narrative that occasionally oscillates between imagination and reality or pretends to be so, and it has a language that goes beyond being defined solely as gloomy. The dynamic presentation and narrative style that involve visual and verbal narration contribute to its engaging nature (not only in this movie but also in The Worst Person in the World). However, due to the intertwined nature of its storytelling and rapid transitions, some may find it difficult to follow and enjoy, which can be seen as a commendable risk taken by the director. Another risk lies in its ending; because the film gradually prepares for Philip's suicide and completes this preparation when he is rejected by the woman he loves. However, we see in a future scene that Philip is happy and reunited with the woman he loves, so the film can be criticized for having a seemingly happy ending. The director actually brings the ending here in a poetic way, parallel to the criticism brought in Erik's novel by the writer Sten Egil Dahl, whom the two main characters idolize, much like choosing a hermit life. Therefore, the seemingly happy ending here may not be real, but there are not strong signals suggesting the opposite either. Moreover, the ending leaves room for interpretation and preference by the audience, making it not easy to say definitively. Perhaps this situation stayed with the director, as he compensates for it abundantly in the next film.
The film Oslo, August 31st (Oslo, 31. august) from 2011 focuses on Anders, who comes to Oslo to apply for a job as part of his rehabilitation process, and his struggle to reconnect with friends and family while facing the burden of his past and confronting life itself. The work, as its name suggests, narrates in the compactness of one man’s one day in one city, portraying an existential battle that exhibits the weakest resistance compared to other films and is generally the most pessimistic work of the trilogy. Throughout the day, Anders faces the visible and hidden realities of his seemingly happy friends, encounters the remaining traces of past romantic relationships, confronts the sacrifices made for his family's rehabilitation, and perhaps as a result, faces the barriers set by his sister, ultimately embracing his demons from the past with a decision that can vary in appreciation from viewer to viewer and bidding farewell to his known life forever in his childhood bedroom. He tries, albeit briefly, but cannot fit into the world, believes he cannot find joy even in the most beautiful things, has accepted that there is no reason to live, and avoids even the possibility of happiness because he fears being vulnerable and maybe even perceived foolish. During a job interview, he abruptly leaves when he believes that despite being appreciated for his honesty in admitting that the gap in his CV is due to heroin use, he would still be automatically rejected because of that, which can be seen as a clear example. In short, he lacks the youth, energy, and responsibility to start over, and his motivation, like a straw fire, quickly fades away.
If it would be necessary to summarize the film in one sentence, it could be said that the depiction of depression and being on the edge of life, along with sharp and nuanced dialogues that immerse the audience, coupled with dynamic yet non-intrusive camera usage, could only be told so simply and realistically. As a result, the film, which has gained recognition in Europe with awards, has made a significant contribution to the director's reputation. It is not a single-actor/actress film, of course, but in addition to the praised Joachim Trier and Eskil Vogt, it's important to highlight Anders Danielsen Lie's one-man show in the leading role of this film. Comparing it to the other films in the trilogy, the most straightforward questioning of existence is found in this film, as the director continues his trilogy that began with the imposition of hope and excitement possibilities in his first film, perhaps fulfilling the lingering thought within him. Both the storytelling and the script deserve appreciation together because the film's trajectory (though not directly downward, it has a certain direction that is not so indifferent) progresses towards a feared yet somehow anticipated ending, while also incorporating moments of hope that absolutely may or may not prevent it, thereby successfully creating, structuring, and conveying points of empathy where the audience would try to save the protagonist.
The final film of the trilogy, The Worst Person in the World (Verdens verste menneske), is a 2021 production that received recognition through nominations and awards at prestigious events like the Cannes Film Festival, where also Renate Reinsve, who portrayed the lead role Julie with a successful acting performance, won the Best Actress Award. The story revolves around Julie, struggling with existential uncertainty and search, starting as a medical student and then delving into the fields of psychology, and then, photography. She begins a relationship with comic artist Aksel, who is older than her from the previous generation, and starts exploring writing while with him. When Aksel expresses a desire to start a family, their differences become apparent, and Julie connects with the barista Eivind after crashing at a wedding reception one evening. Both unsatisfied and unfulfilled in their respective relationships, they develop an intimacy (despite not engaging in a physical one), but this doesn't immediately turn into a relationship. After feeling overshadowed as Aksel's career gains momentum and recognition, Julie ends her relationship with him and becomes a couple with Eivind, who also felt constrained in the relationship that he was a part of at the time they first met each other. But later, Julie learns that Aksel has been diagnosed with incurable cancer. While dealing with this news, she also discovers she is pregnant but can't immediately share it with Eivind due to tension arising from a short story she wrote about him. After finally sharing the news, she also expresses the need for time to "keep the child." Meanwhile, upon learning that Aksel's disease has reached a critical stage unlikely for him to survive the night, Julie experiences a miscarriage while taking a shower. In the epilogue, as quite some time has passed, we see Julie working as an on-set photographer and also witnessing Eivind, the actress at a film shoot and the baby of those two. Julie returns home and takes on the task of editing the photos of that actress that she shot.
There's a line from the protagonist that summarizes her and what the film wants to convey: "I feel like the spectator of my own life. Like I'm just a supporting actor in my own life." The character presented represents those who keep leaving the journeys in life halfway, those who live synthetically, and those who often become guests in others' lives instead of writing their own story, struggling with existence due to the lack of a grounded life purpose, putting in relatively high effort but yielding very little output. Mr. Trier and Mr. Vogt's meticulous screenplay and storytelling enable the audience to accompany the protagonist on her journey, to put themselves in her shoes, to be her, and to question themselves, witnessing the reflection of the modern era on the screen! Additionally, the narrative at times reflects Julie's fantasies, even including Oslo in them, but this approach neither feels absurd nor unreal. As a different and additional detail, there is also the clash of political incorrectness and correctness through the mindsets of Aksel, and Eivind's first partner in the film, Sunniva. The aforementioned clash isn't overly dominant but still is included without harming the story, which I appreciate. Overall, while the film's narrative language is quite soft, its subject matter is harshly realistic, its ending is neither overly pessimistic nor too optimistic, it flows naturally with ups and downs, thus, making it the most lifelike and professionally crafted film in the trilogy. Therefore, it's arguably the best film discussed in this article, deserving to be considered a modern classic from its release according to many!
The Oslo Trilogy, which is the strongest indication that Joachim Trier will bring more modern masterpieces to Scandinavian cinema, shows us the three alternatives in everyone's life journey (at least as much as portrayed on screen because whether some of these stories have a true ending contrary to appearances is open to interpretation): (1) maintaining excitement and idealism while showing the perseverance to rise after falling, (2) not finding/choosing the strength to fight back but rather giving up in consequence of consecutive setbacks, (3) chasing meaning without defining it and therefore never being able to grasp happiness despite the questing spirit. Oslo, with its characteristic cold and often graying atmosphere typical of Scandinavia, combined with modern and minimalist architecture, is presented before us with a cinematic language that is plain yet not dull. This cinematic language creates a flawless interface to highlight the characters that have been being discussed, and for the audience to understand their state of mind, empathize with them, as well as accompany them on their journey. Because human psychology is already quite complex in its simplest form, using cinema as a medium to convey this definitely requires careful handling, and both directing and scripting masterfully manage it.
When talking about commonalities, it's also important to highlight Anders Danielsen Lie, who plays a major protagonist in the first film, the protagonist on whom the story is built in the second, and the most critical supporting character in the third. His performance is so successful and authentic that it becomes hard to imagine anyone else creating the same impact and reflecting the emotions at the similar density. Additionally, time is a significant intersection in the films, with transitions, its effects, the desire to stop it or rewind it, and its healing influence prominently featured in the characters' journeys. As I close the article, I'll do it while mentioning the concept of time again. I believe enjoying this trilogy is possible in any mood, but it's clear that when watched at the time which makes it possible to consume without judgment and with an awareness of the subject and concept, it provides maximum artistic and intellectual nourishment!
Mert Konuk
January 2025