Pietro Germi, who would win an Oscar for co-authoring the mean, misanthropic Divorce—Italian Style (1961), made two notable films during the previous decade, the powerful though somewhat specious The Path of Hope (1950) and The Railroad Man (Il ferroviere). Thus did Germi move from a brand of neorealismo to something in its shadow.
As its title suggests, The Railroad Man revolves around an individual and his family, Andreà Marcocci, played ably by the director himself. Train engineer Marcocci drinks and is combustible, taking aim, for example, at Giulia, his unwed pregnant daughter, whom he forces into an ill-setting marriage prior to Giulia’s suffering a miscarriage—a sore index of the misguidedness of Marcocci’s patriarchic intervention. Indeed, Germi’s film stresses this individual rather than society, which is relegated to a resonant background. Marcocci’s drinking results in brutality against Sara, his loyal, long-suffering wife, which in turn leads to his estrangement from a shiftless elder son. Moreover, Marcocci’s drinking affects his work, resulting in a tragedy on the tracks and contributing to his selfish decision to become a scab during a railway strike, causing him to lose both the trust of his co-workers and his livelihood. Only Marcocci’s little son, Sandro, continues to idolize him, and even Sandro is taking in, gradually, silently, a fuller, more critical view of his father.
When it comes, Marcocci’s death is presented peripherally—consistent with Sandro’s vantage in the household. But this is the point: it isn’t presented simply and peripherally but, rather, ostentatiously (bedridden Marcocci’s hand drops—an event glimpsed, with the camera surprisingly close up, through a partially open door). Thus does it seem that the too-formidable father has crowded out Sandro from his own life—a point also made by the sparseness of Sandro’s voiceover narration.
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THE RAILROAD MAN (Pietro Germi, 1956)
Pietro Germi, who would win an Oscar for co-authoring the mean, misanthropic Divorce—Italian Style (1961), made two notable films during the previous decade, the powerful though somewhat specious The Path of Hope (1950) and The Railroad Man (Il ferroviere). Thus did Germi move from a brand of neorealismo to something in its shadow.
As its title suggests, The Railroad Man revolves around an individual and his family, Andreà Marcocci, played ably by the director himself. Train engineer Marcocci drinks and is combustible, taking aim, for example, at Giulia, his unwed pregnant daughter, whom he forces into an ill-setting marriage prior to Giulia’s suffering a miscarriage—a sore index of the misguidedness of Marcocci’s patriarchic intervention. Indeed, Germi’s film stresses this individual rather than society, which is relegated to a resonant background. Marcocci’s drinking results in brutality against Sara, his loyal, long-suffering wife, which in turn leads to his estrangement from a shiftless elder son. Moreover, Marcocci’s drinking affects his work, resulting in a tragedy on the tracks and contributing to his selfish decision to become a scab during a railway strike, causing him to lose both the trust of his co-workers and his livelihood. Only Marcocci’s little son, Sandro, continues to idolize him, and even Sandro is taking in, gradually, silently, a fuller, more critical view of his father.
When it comes, Marcocci’s death is presented peripherally—consistent with Sandro’s vantage in the household. But this is the point: it isn’t presented simply and peripherally but, rather, ostentatiously (bedridden Marcocci’s hand drops—an event glimpsed, with the camera surprisingly close up, through a partially open door). Thus does it seem that the too-formidable father has crowded out Sandro from his own life—a point also made by the sparseness of Sandro’s voiceover narration.
Like this:
This entry was posted on August 20, 2008 at 6:33 am and is filed under Formal Capsule Film Comments. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.