There are two chief aspects to this movie, and one rather folds into the other. The first is the plain beauty of the visual presentation. Aci Trezza is just about as picturesque as a coastal village could be with its rocky landscape and aged architecture; that filmmaker Luchino Visconti shot on location, employing locals as actors, means that the earnest simplicity of all the sights we take in is a refreshing breath of air. The harsh waters of the sea, though mostly glimpsed only intermittently, are themselves a welcome vision, and the production made splendid use of lighting throughout that makes for some especially striking shots. The cast may be filled with non-professionals but all give fine performances to bring the story to bear, a story which is furthered in some capacity by Mario Serandrei's smart editing that with soft transitions helps to both convey the passage of time and intimate thoughts and feelings left unspoken. And all this comes to us with utmost vivid clarity through the keen eyes of Aldo Graziati's cinematography, more pristine and impeccable seventy years on than what a lot of titles of the intervening decades could claim. Through Graziati's lens we see every minute detail with flawless perception, with the result that from a standpoint strictly of its craftsmanship 'La terra trema' is a genuine pleasure.
Those glad tidings stand in glaring contrast, however, to the storytelling. It's not that the tale on hand isn't compelling; on the contrary, it's deeply absorbing. Yet just as Graziati lets us see all so clearly, the camera also provides stark representation of a saga so unremittingly dour that the word "depressing" doesn't carry sufficient connotation. Even the fact that the camerawork is fairly static is meaningful, in the best and worst of ways. I can't speak to Giovanni Verga's novel, but I do know that Visconti and screenwriter Antonio Pietrangeli have given us a neo-realist narrative that is altogether bleak, and in its enduring, very relatable relevance only becomes more so. It would take nothing to adapt the plot to a different setting, even a modern one, with different laborers and reflection of updated values, and keep the spirit of this feature intact, for this is the story of the desperately thin ice that the average person lives on: one bad day can be enough to bring us to ruin, and sunder everything we had previously known in our lives. The Valastro family work hard and still live in poverty; when they take a chance to improve their lot, the whole village celebrates their success. The moment their fortunes turn and they suffer loss after loss, suddenly those same celebrants spit on them for their arrogance, and mock them, while those who all this time have blithely had their boots on the neck of the working class display a total absence of humanity. "Neo-realism" is right; 'La terra trema' took place in post-war Sicily but could just as easily be transplanted into most any community in the modern-day United States, or the United Kingdom, or most any other country.
It's easy to see how the picture has garnered such esteem over time, and Visconti is to be congratulated for delivery a piece at once so very compelling and so very dreary. Just as much to the point, substantial effort went into making the film as truly real as it could be; I'm given to understand that the sum total is a mix of both scripted and unscripted scenes. It's most definitely not using the right set of words to call this "enjoyable," but it is certainly inspired, and very satisfying as a viewing experience. Given the trajectory of the narrative and how readily it reminds us of our own instability I can understand how this won't appeal to all comers; I'd put it on a shortlist with about 4-5 other movies that I'd name as the most gloomily hard to watch I've ever seen. All the same, for the strength of both its construction and its storytelling 'La terra trema' is a superb classic that hasn't lost its brilliance one bit, and if you're receptive to the style and have the opportunity to watch I can only give it my highest recommendation.
Those glad tidings stand in glaring contrast, however, to the storytelling. It's not that the tale on hand isn't compelling; on the contrary, it's deeply absorbing. Yet just as Graziati lets us see all so clearly, the camera also provides stark representation of a saga so unremittingly dour that the word "depressing" doesn't carry sufficient connotation. Even the fact that the camerawork is fairly static is meaningful, in the best and worst of ways. I can't speak to Giovanni Verga's novel, but I do know that Visconti and screenwriter Antonio Pietrangeli have given us a neo-realist narrative that is altogether bleak, and in its enduring, very relatable relevance only becomes more so. It would take nothing to adapt the plot to a different setting, even a modern one, with different laborers and reflection of updated values, and keep the spirit of this feature intact, for this is the story of the desperately thin ice that the average person lives on: one bad day can be enough to bring us to ruin, and sunder everything we had previously known in our lives. The Valastro family work hard and still live in poverty; when they take a chance to improve their lot, the whole village celebrates their success. The moment their fortunes turn and they suffer loss after loss, suddenly those same celebrants spit on them for their arrogance, and mock them, while those who all this time have blithely had their boots on the neck of the working class display a total absence of humanity. "Neo-realism" is right; 'La terra trema' took place in post-war Sicily but could just as easily be transplanted into most any community in the modern-day United States, or the United Kingdom, or most any other country.
It's easy to see how the picture has garnered such esteem over time, and Visconti is to be congratulated for delivery a piece at once so very compelling and so very dreary. Just as much to the point, substantial effort went into making the film as truly real as it could be; I'm given to understand that the sum total is a mix of both scripted and unscripted scenes. It's most definitely not using the right set of words to call this "enjoyable," but it is certainly inspired, and very satisfying as a viewing experience. Given the trajectory of the narrative and how readily it reminds us of our own instability I can understand how this won't appeal to all comers; I'd put it on a shortlist with about 4-5 other movies that I'd name as the most gloomily hard to watch I've ever seen. All the same, for the strength of both its construction and its storytelling 'La terra trema' is a superb classic that hasn't lost its brilliance one bit, and if you're receptive to the style and have the opportunity to watch I can only give it my highest recommendation.