The Early Days of Italian Cinema

Assia Noris in a 1938 Telefoni Bianchi film

My discovery last December of a 1915 silent film by Francesca Bertini made me curious about other lesser known genres of Italian cinema. That curiosity led me on a cinema adventure in which I discovered a genres I never knew existed such as Italian Futurism, Telefoni Bianchi and Propaganda films.

Bertini's "Assunta Spina" boasts a melodic soundtrack and stunning cinematography that captures the Bay of Naples during an era in which most of our America-bound ancestors were passing through. Filmmakers Bertini and Gustavo Serena created a timeless story of love, passion and envy. The restored version shows images of Naples that are surprising clear for being shot 100 years ago. "Assunta Spina" was indeed ahead of its time, and Bertini was not shy in acknowledging it. In 1982 at the age of 90, she said in an interview, "It had been my idea to wander around Naples taking ordinary people from the streets. Now everyone’s invented Neorealism!" However, some may argue that point and it's important to hear other perspectives. 

"The idea of neorealism as we know it may be unjustly limited to the period that comes directly after the Second World War and it's understandable that Bertini would have such an attitude," says David Morea, the director of the new documentary, "Before Neorealism." But we should not confuse the use of realist aesthetics in films like "Assunta Spina" with full-blown neorealism, which has a definite historical collocation and specific political qualities," he explained.

The silent era of Italian cinema had a profound impact on cinema worldwide. Martin Scorsese has praised the work of Giovanni Pastrone, director of the epic 1914 "Cabiria." He believes that with this work, Pastrone invented the epic movie and deserves credit for attributes such as "extensive use of a moving camera", which has often been given to D.W. Griffith and Cecil B. DeMille. Set in Sicily, Carthage and Cirta during the Second Punic War, which took place from 218 - 202 BC, the film was shot in Torino. The story follows an abducted child named Cabiria, and through her eyes, we see this incredible cinematic world of the tumultuous Mt. Etna, North African religious rituals and the historic battles of the ancient Roman fleet.

The notable predecessor to "Cabiria" is Enrico Guazzoni's "Quo Vadis?," which features 5,000 extras and has been called "the first blockbuster in the history of cinema." Due to its worldwide success, it was the first film to be projected at a mainstream Broadway theater. Guazzoni enjoyed a  9-month run of his film in New York from April - December of 1913. According to silent film expert Thomas Gladys, founder of the Louise Brooks Society,  not only the big spectacles like those mentioned above made it to American shores, but also some smaller films were shown in neighborhood and ethnic theaters in the big cities. Then, consider our beloved Rudolph Valentino, and it's safe to say that Italy greatly influenced silent cinema in America.

Regarding these first blockbusters, Morea said, "Quo Vadis?" is arguably the first global blockbuster and that it inspired generations of filmmakers for its grandiose vision. "I would argue that, from an aesthetic point of view, 'Cabiria' is more influential, especially if we compare it to D.W. Griffith’s "Intolerance." But 'Quo Vadis?' set the bar for all cinematic super-spectacles."

Although short-lived, the next era to emerge was Italian Futurism, a film movement which lasted roughly from 1916 to 1919.

The strongest characteristic of films belonging to this genre is the set design, which followed in the steps of the futurism art. The sets featured geometric shapes with contrasting shades of black and white, abstract characters and optic illusions. Most of these films were unfortunately lost except for one, "Thaïs," which is actually available to watch on YouTube. 

"Thaïs," also known as "Perfido incanto," was made in 1917 by Anton Giulio Bragaglia, a leading director of his time. Based on the novel by Anatole France, the plot follows Thaïs, a seductress that goes after married men. She is frivolous in her escapades until she seduces her best friend’s husband, which ultimately leads to the woman’s death. Overwhelmed by guilt and regret, Thaïs decides to take her own life in a dramatic final scene. Being the only surviving film of its genre, "Thaïs" is safely being held at the Cinémathèque Française in Paris, which houses one of the most comprehensive cinema archives in the world. I watched the 35-minute film and found it interesting that in the opening credits, we see the George Eastman House, which makes me wonder why the film is no longer under their care. The quality is pretty low but it’s fascinating to see if just for the historic value. Watch "Thaïs" on YouTube..

While Italy's Fascist government was working on the construction of Cinecittà, it was also producing its own propaganda films, which are referred to as Telefoni Bianchi (White Telephones). This genre rose to fame in the 1930s and featured upper class, wealthy families with pristine-looking children. The sets were just as beautiful as the characters and featured the namesake white telephones. 

Morea offered insight into this genre. "The telefoni bianchi films were a series of escapist comedy films that were used as a means to control the consensus and dictate policy in a palatable way; they portrayed fascist society in a light that was acceptable to the regime: the men were athletic and the women were modern and self-sufficient yet both were confined to a working-class bubble that was penetrated merely by coincidence or happenstance which allowed them to experience the life of the upper-class bourgeoisie; a class which was greatly frowned upon by the regime—much as it is by any authoritarian government. The protagonists would meet a group of people whose interest deviated from that of the political and ideological interests of the regime and at the end of the films, they always choose the working-class love interest. Was it the intent of the filmmakers at the time? I don't think so—they couldn't really produce stories outside of this theme and, at times, they would self-censure because they knew the protocol which they had to adhere to. The response, in terms of Neorealism, was a literal and drastic aesthetic disconnect from the confinement that they had to follow in order to simply get a film made."



Fascist Propaganda from the Historical Archives of Istituto Luce

Morea went on to tell me about another sort of genre that I knew nothing about. "I think the most important kind of film to remember (apart from the telefoni bianchi films) are the documentaries and newsreels by the Istituto Luce which, in terms of propaganda, were the driving force of imposing the ideals of the regime and celebrating their efforts; be it construction of a train station or a sporting event."

I asked Morea if any of these propaganda films made it to American shores. "I'm not sure how many (very few if any) of these films made it state-side during this time; even though Mussolini made proud comments about how many Italian immigrants were in the United States. Either way, if they did make it to the US, they certainly weren't successful. We have to remember that America not only had its own escapist propaganda at the time and was also at war against the Nazis and as Italy's involvement with Germany developed, an anti-Italian sentiment increased in the US."

I also talked with director Peter Miller, whose "Projections of America" features an American propaganda starring the Italian expat composer, Arturo Toscanini. The film was shown all over Italy shortly after the fall of Mussolini. I asked him about the similarities between the propaganda films of Italy and the United States. "The (propaganda films) of America were made by liberal American filmmakers who envisioned a pluralistic, democratic, multi-ethnic America- one that presented their nation as it could be if it were to live up to its ideals. I'm sure the Projections of America films were a contrast to the kinds of conservative cinema that Italian audiences were accustomed to from the fascist era, and they stood in great contrast to the Nazi propaganda films that were forced upon occupied European audiences."