Shawn Levy specialises in chronicling 20th-century hotspots such as London in the Sixties and Sinatra’s Vegas. Here, he turns his attention to the regeneration of post-war Rome.
How did the Eternal City erase the memory of its defeat? The answer is as layered as a Cassata cake. The sponge is the commitment that saw new film-makers bringing the struggling proletariat to the screen; the cannoli cream is the cultural flowering that emerged; the rum syrup the intoxicating beauty of frankly erotic leading ladies; and the whipped froth on top the frenzy of the new media stars, the paparazzi. The whole makes for a palatable and stimulating engagement with an era that still functions as a powerful marketing tool for Italian exports.
There is, however, a story that clouds the scene. It starts in 1953 with a half-naked female corpse washed up on a beach outside Rome. The drowning was put down to misadventure, though why Wilma Montesi should have been missing her stockings and suspender belt was never satisfactorily explained. Levy chronicles the investigation, the rumours and the scandal but, like others before him, fails to draw meaningful conclusions.
Instead, he zooms in on Roberto Rossellini, Luchino Visconti and Vittorio De Sica taking to the streets because they could not find financial backers for their pictures. He relates the genesis of the neo-realist movement from the 1940s to the mid-1960s with all the passion and precision that went into its production. This is an exciting account of a revolution in art and society that saw newspapers bulging with reports of Italians making it big, deals being struck, alliances forged… and two-piece bathing suits for women. Every night there was a screening, and every night there was a competition to see who could flush out the gossip il più piccante.
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