THE STORY – Naples faces dual volcanic threats from Vesuvius and Campi Flegrei. Amid increasing tremors, archaeologists work as residents live anxiously, haunted by Pompeii’s fate while emergency services strain.
THE CAST – N/A
THE TEAM – Gianfranco Rosi (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 115 Minutes
Anyone who saw documentarian Gianfranco Rosi’s Oscar-nominated film “Fire at Sea” won’t be surprised to hear that perhaps the first and last thing anyone will say about his new film “Below the Clouds” is that it’s gorgeously shot. And just as with that film, Rosi uses a hands-off approach to plainly observe an Italian town with an undercurrent of tension. Here, that unnerving rumble is literal, as the film focuses on Naples and the surrounding areas, which are subject to earthquakes. This shifting ground, coupled with their proximity to the infamous volcano Mount Vesuvius, keeps the residents on edge. But their lives aren’t completely preoccupied by quivering, whether from the Earth’s vibrations or from fear. As the film follows residents, tourists, and archeologists, it paints a picture of a community where the ancient past is not only apparent, it’s practically touchable, always serving as a reminder of the unceasing passage of time.
Rosi’s film is visually stunning, which isn’t too surprising given the places where it was shot. Any director should be so lucky to film in the ruins of Pompeii, amongst Italian villas, and in museum basements so full of ancient Roman statues that they more closely resemble a grandparent’s cluttered attic than a depository of antiquities. At times, the unobtrusive camera almost feels divinely placed, as if the locations and people it takes in are being magically transferred onto the theater’s screen rather than being captured by a machine. Rosi’s black and white photography helps to merge the past with the present, shrouding our contemporary era with a feeling of timelessness. The film’s uber-languid pace captures these stunning sights in such a way that the audience has the liberty to be able to take in every inch and detail. Rosi grants viewers the privilege of time to absorb his images, like being granted a private after-hours tour of a museum.
But that same energy stretches on far too often to the point of tedium. This is an intentionally non-captivating film that’s hard to describe without using adjectives like “meditative” and “patient.” Similarly, it could be called “tiring” or, worst of all, “dull.” Judging by his filmmaking style, it’s doubtful that Rosi would be offended, or even care, about such assessments. This is a film that wants audiences to luxuriate in its world. The observational, non-editorial approach he takes allows viewers to derive their own meaning from what they’re seeing. This is not a film that’s possible to watch with one’s brain turned off; the film requires constant analysis by all who watch it.
Despite not being the most energizing watch, “Below the Clouds” still manages to spotlight some interesting and entertaining figures. Most noteworthy are the sequences featuring actual calls from citizens to the local emergency line. For the most part, unintentionally comedic calls are played, including, hilariously, a man whom the operators call a “regular” who calls at least once a day just to ask the time. These moments provide some much-needed humanity to the otherwise lofty-feeling film. And they’re not all funny; one call played later in the film is truly harrowing. Additionally, the curator who surveys the museum basement filled with ancient statues not currently on public display talks about these works of art with such intelligence and reverence that it’s hard not to be engrossed by her and her knowledge.
One of the more fascinating recurring images used throughout the film is a destroyed, abandoned cinema that Rosi is clearly enamored by. It’s easy to see why: the crumbling architecture and disintegrating seats are haunting. In this space, he projects relevant footage that ties into the images and ideas presented throughout his film. The effect is clear: our tangible objects and spaces may rot away with time, but film exists as a way to preserve. With “Below the Clouds,” Rosi performs an act of preemptive time travel by putting images and voices of a specific time, place, and people onto film. It’s a taxing watch that intentionally tries modern viewers’ patience, which is sure to repel most, but the nobility of Rosi’s intentions is inarguable.
