165. Ossessione

It’s only right that an opera competition occurs just before the midpoint of Ossessione, the first Italian movie on the list. Call it film noir, argue about it being the first neorealist film—both of those are after the fact designations. Ossessione is opera, as dramatic and tragic as anything by Verdi, and as beautiful.

That competition, and the way that the doomed character Bregana whistles and hums arias throughout his time onscreen, only underscores how deeply the rhythms and melodies of opera are woven into the fabric of Italian cinema; the director, Luchino Visconti, had in fact worked on an adaptation of Tosca shortly before this movie, his first as director. As his source material, he chose James M. Cain’s novel The Postman Always Rings Twice, a story as lurid and sexy as any libretto used by Verdi or Mascagni.

You’ve seen it even if you haven’t seen it: hot guy drifts into nothing town, decides after approximately two seconds that he’ll fall into the arms of the hot wife of a schlub who doesn’t appreciate her. All that’s left is to get rid of the schlub and be together— and then everything will go to hell. There aren’t many opportunities for surprise in a plot that’s been done a zillion times, so it’s about the casting, the performances, and the filmmaking, all of which are superb.

I have a hard time believing that Visconti, or anyone, ever set out to create a new film movement, in this case neorealism. I think he simply used what he had on hand. In 1943, Italy had been crippled by war; its pro-film leader, Mussolini, had other things on his mind as his regime began to crumble. There wasn’t a ton of money available to finance a feature, and there was pressure from Mussolini’s son, Vittorio, to break away from the “Telefoni Bianchi”, fantasy flicks with folks wealthy enough to install fancy schmancy white telephones in their Art Deco mansions. So Visconti chose a realistic story, then employed real locations, everyday clothes and set dressing, a minimal score, and a skeleton crew out of necessity. One neorealism trait, that of using untrained actors, didn’t apply here. Visconti had worked with the hunky Massimo Girotti on Tosca, and snagged the hard-working and beautiful Clara Calamai for his leading lady—she would be Rossellini’s original choice for Open City over Anna Magnani, another relatively experienced actress. Seasoned character actors Elio Marcuzzi (as the Spaniard) and Juan de Landa (Bregana) round out the cast.

Unlike so much American noir, Ossessione is a romance first, and the story of a friendship, between Girotti’s character and the Spaniard, second; a crime arises because of love, not in place of it. Girotti’s eyes soften when he sees Calamai; it’s hard to imagine any Yank who’d allow himself to appear so vulnerable. Calamai, tougher on the surface, allows her steely veneer to crack over the course of the movie. In the end, it disappears altogether to reveal a gentle sadness not unlike that found in Leonardo da Vinci’s most haunting portraits. These are good people, trapped in rotten circumstances. The only way out is going to require bloodshed. It’s a pretty safe bet that things will end quite badly indeed.

Neither the Catholic church nor the Fascist authorities saw any redeeming light, however, and the movie was banned almost as soon as it was released. Visconti fared no better in the US, having not bothered with the small issue of asking permission of James M. Cain, whom MGM had paid handsomely for the 1946 Tay Garnett version of Postman. Visconti appears to have been somewhat shut down, directing only a portion of the documentary Days of Glory in ’45—about a mass execution by Germans of Italians—and not directing a film entirely of his own until La Terra Trema in ’48. Fortunately, Ossessione somehow survived, and was eventually released outside of Italy in 1976, its beauty and innovation recognized and appreciated at last.

Side by side with Open City, the movie provides a much richer look at the possibilities of neorealism. Rossellini’s movies often seem to revel in their grit and lack of polish. Visconti proved that lyricism and poetry can emerge even out of the dust and ashes of a shattered landscape.

Buy the DVD.