La Romana
Sog.: Alberto Moravia. Scen.: Giorgio Bassani, Ennio Flaiano, Alberto Moravia, Luigi Zampa. F.: Enzo Serafin. Mo.: Eraldo Da Roma. Scgf.: Flavio Mogherini. Mu.: Franco Mannino, Enzo Masetti. Su: Roy Mangano, Bruno Moreal. Int.: Gina Lollobrigida (Adriana), Daniel Gélin (Mino), Franco Fabrizi (Gino), Raymond Pellegrin (Astarita), Pina Piovani (madre di Adriana), Xenia Valderi. Prod.: Dino De Laurentiis, Carlo Ponti. Pri. pro.: 27 ottobre 1954 35mm. D.: 94’.
Film Notes
Rome, 1935: the impoverished 19 year-old Adriana is being pushed by her ambitious mother to work as an artist’s model. Against her mother’s wishes, she begins a relationship with the chauffeur Gino, with whom she has her first sexual intercourse and who promises to marry her. Her cynical colleague Gisella, a kept woman, throws her into the arms of Astarita, a high-ranking member of the secret police. After learning from Astarita that Gino is as a prostitute. She then falls in love with Giacomo, or “Mino”, a polite, anti-Fascist student. But Gino introduces her to the brute Sonzogno, an ex-boxer and assassin, and that is when the real trouble begins. Zampa has always been considered a craftsman disinterested in matters of style. La Romana is one of the films that demonstrate how such criticism is unfounded. It is quite possibly Zampa’s most openly stylized film, in which an elevated, complex style permeates every frame. This is partly due to the subject – it is a period piece set in Fascist Rome. But it also has to do with the needs of the producers: make an art-house box-office hit (even though these terms were not used in 1954), with a star (Gina Lollobrigida), a respectable literary name (the film is taken from the novel by Alberto Moravia), all packaged with the highest quality.Zampa was called in as director after the success of his films Processo alla città and Anni facili. An early version of the screenplay had already been presented to the censors by Ponti and De Laurentiis but had been rejected. Strengthened by the long battle he endured while making Anni facili, Zampa managed to make the movie without too many compromises. There were two things that bothered the censors: the character of Astarita being a member of Ovra, the fascist secret police squad, and the direct portrayal of sexuality. The references to fascism, however, were overshadowed by the leading character resorting to prostitution out of necessity, her surroundings and her mother’s cynical greed. Adriana was a character who clashed with the Italy of Don Camillo and the rise of pink neorealism. Zampa depicts reality without hypocrisy and with severity: following in the footsteps of Moravia, he shows the pettiness of a certain element of anti-Fascism and also reveals how 1935 Italy was not much different from the country run by Democrazia Cristiana. And in all this, Zampa makes a great movie, with set designs admirably reconstructing the period, expressionist overtones, Hitchcockian sequences, and the awareness that, behind all their ideals and morals, men are moved by other impulses. This was no small feat: indeed, post-neorealist Italian cinema of the 1950s had not unanimously embraced centrism and rappel à l’ordre.
Alberto Pezzotta