Stazione Termini

Indiscretion of an American Wife (1953)

This is such a contained, focused film, and demands so much of its two actors, every little nuance matters in a kind of exciting dramatic way. The closest thing this compares to, as two lovers or would be lovers talk in a train station, is Brief Encounter (1945), and that's a masterpiece of acting and cinema both.

Here, with Montgomery Clift and Jennifer Jones, it comes close. I found the slowness of it magical, and the filming, in the ultra modern station, very beautiful. If director Vittoria De Sica clearly has a different style than David Lean (though both pile on the romanticism), the effect is still one of longing and loneliness. The weakness here, most of all, is simply the writing, which is so important when two people are sitting around in conversation most of the time.

Oddly, and sadly, it was the producer (Selznick) who got in the way. He was married to Jones at the time, and she was unhappy both during the filming and in her marriage. She also seems to be overacting sometimes--she can be marvelous, and nuance magnified might be exactly what was needed, but it often seems distracting. Clift, for his part, liked De Sica and he did what he could with what he had to work with under the director. It was Selznick who interfered with De Sica, and who altered the script using a series of screenwriters, and even though Truman Capote was one of them, the whole thing was hampered.

The fact it is still a marvelous film is something to wonder at. Flawed, yes, but short and intense and it has a special feeling that Hollywood (and British counterparts) were unable to pull off. The whole atmosphere and mood are enough alone to make it worthwhile.

I saw the short version, and I think it's probably plenty, but if you find the original, with 20 minutes extra, and you like this one, give it a try.

Like fine wine, "Stazione Termini" seems to grow better and better with age.

Generally "written off" as a lesser De Sica work, this film offers two beautiful performances by Jennifer Jones and Montgomery Clift.

The two, with different types of acting training, sensitively mesh their discrete styles through deeply felt emotions. Highly gifted, vulnerable, and insecure, these top performers reach for the bottom of their feelings in bringing to life two desperate, lonely lovers.

It's been said these thespians enjoyed a close off-screen relationship due to the leading lady's deep infatuation with her co-star, and that she was distraught when he, due to personal circumstances, was unable to mutually respond.

That's not at all surprising, for it's all there in their work in this drama. A deft melding of romance and neo-realism, which marks the distinctive De Sica style, "Stazione" now seems just the right length for its content.

It almost seems to unfold in "quasi-real time," with shots of clocks ticking away before the train leaves at the story's finale to emphasize the time element.

What emerges here is a kind of slice-of-life vignette: two people in love, who must part due to one partner's domestic responsibility. We are allowed to briefly share their intimate, final moments together before their inevitable parting.

Zavattini's script (along with Truman Capote and Ben Hecht's dialogue) nicely capture these fleeting minutes, while the score lushly points up the pathos of a tragic unfoldment. De Sica's unique direction (with Selznick's uncredited contribution) rounds out a small gem of a film whose vintage grows increasingly more sweet and more special with age.

A married American woman has an affair with an Italian man while visiting her sister in Rome. This short film (a longer director's cut now exists) focuses on the last few hours spent at a train station as the woman is returning home. De Sica creates some striking imagery but the script is too slight to let the characters or the plot develop. Apparently producer Selznick cut the film to stress the romance and to make Jones (his wife then) look good. Clift plays a brooding, hot-blooded Italian but isn't given much to do. Both Jones and Clift have quirky mannerisms that seem well suited to the roles of the angst-ridden lovers. An interesting curiosity piece.

This film will not appeal to everyone, but even with the ravages executed by Selznick on the American cut, Stazione Termini (Selznick's U.S. version: Indiscretion of an American Housewife) remains a powerful film for those who can appreciate it.

To be sure, there are faults, especially unfortunate in light of De Sica's credentials. Most striking are that Montgomery Clift as American-Italian is a spectacular error, not so much in casting, as in characterization (American expat would have worked); far too much English comes from the mouths of early-1950s Romans and other Italians; and the American housewife is perhaps overly oblivious to the italianità around her. Otherwise, mostly spot on, at least in the full version.

Jennifer Jones, beyond radiant in her prime-of-life womanhood, exudes a sensuality that both contrasts strikingly with her 1950s-prim exterior and celebrates the troubled woman within: proper well-brought-up ladies can have passions, too, a marriage ceremony is no guarantor that all will be well 'til death do them part, and she, like so many before her and after, struggles when smoldering embers flare and she senses that the 'groove' of her comfortable, uneventful marriage may actually be 'rut'.

As would be expected of De Sica, his rendition of the setting -- the newly rebuilt Stazione Termini itself, trains, travelers -- is so accurate as to pass for a recording, and protagonists as well as the concentrically-involved supporting cast embed within it void of staging, with total plausibility.

The arrest scene and its aftermath also verges on documentary in its genuinity. The strict proprieties of post-WWII Rome -- for some Romans very genuine, for others hypocritical sham even then -- may seem contrived to a young American or British viewer today, but the inevitable tension was very real at the time, and De Sica presents its effects honestly, and with éclat.

Give Stazione Termini a chance. Enter the time and place. De Sica managed to do a fine job of it, in spite of Selznick's ill-advised meddling, and he deserves far more more credit than he's normally given for this effort. So does Jennifer Jones, who is magnificent here.

Cesare Zavattini's slim story "Terminal Station" turned into somewhat-overblown star-vehicle for Jennifer Jones and Montgomery Clift, who manage to create romantic tension despite director Vittorio De Sica's insistence upon an overly-busy background. These indiscreet lovers (she a married housewife from Philadelphia and he the half-Italian professor who adores her) are consistently spied upon by accusing eyes while saying their reluctant farewells in Rome's railway station. De Sica appears to be just as interested in the central couple as he is in the woman's young nephew (Dick Beymer) who simply refuses to leave, happy party groups, another group of serious-faced priests, an elderly Italian and his apples, a pregnant woman, the overachievers on the police force, etc. Told in 'real time', the looming faces of the many clocks (reminding our couple of her impending trip home) become a red herring in the proceedings, which do have intriguing moments in spite of the fact Clift shows no signs of Italian blood (he barely seems to comprehend the language!). Jones, in a tidy Jane Wyman-ish hairdo, ably manages to convey the torn emotions of a woman with a family who has found passion at last, and her performances is certainly worth-seeing. Clift makes a fantastically dramatic exit from a moving train, but otherwise just fills the bill. David O. Selznick production has the requisite gloss, but could have used a bit more fire under its icy exterior. **1/2 from ****