Roberto Rossellini Month: The Machine to Kill Bad People

The Machine to Kill Bad People (La Macchina Ammazzacattivi) (1952) 

The Machine to Kill Bad People is a profoundly weird film. Directed by Roberto Rossellini in 1952, it was a great departure from his acclaimed neorealistic style. (To be fair, he directed most of the film. It was a troubled production; Rossellini quit before the film was finished. The producers let an assistant director complete the film, and it was released without Rossellini’s consent.)

Unlike Rossellini's neorealistic films, which were often nearly docudramas, this film is a fantasy and a comedy. The opening makes this clear: the setting is presented as a model, with human hands arranging an island, the buildings, the clouds.

A small town located on the island is celebrating the Feast of St. Andrew (Andrea), an Italian saint who saved the nation from Turkish invasion. The whole village celebrates with a procession that begins and ends in the local Catholic Church.

We are then introduced to our protagonist, Celestino Esposito (Gennaro Pisano), a small-town photographer who is concerned about the financial future and moral climate of his village. Fishing has been the primary local industry, but an American businessman has come to town, looking to build a hotel and bring tourism dollars. He also brought along his niece who, um, has less restrictive sexual mores than is the local custom. The American is working with a town council member who collaborated with the Fascists during the war.

Esposito is greeted by an old man who claims to be Saint Andrew himself. He gives the photographer a special gift, a camera that will kill whoever it photographs. (In fact, it will even kill the person if a photograph is taken of another photograph of that person.) Esposito discovers the camera’s powers accidentally, killing the Fascist on the town council.

Esposito desires to use his new power only for good, and so consults with the local priest about the town’s problems. But the priest seems more concerned about getting money for rebuilding his church structure than anything else. The priest remarks, “This is a godsend for us. We can finally demolish this old church. I can’t stand this fake baroque anymore. We’ll bring back the ancient Byzantine Basilica. I’ll have porphyry columns and real mosaics on the walls.”

In fact, most people in the town seem to be motivated by greed or lust, so Esposito finds many people that he believes are worth killing with his camera.

If this film had been made today, most everyone writing about the film would say it was a commentary on current cancel culture. Like the photographer in the film, many people consider themselves to be such pristine moral creatures that they are capable of deciding who in history is worth remembrance and who should be erased, along with who in contemporary culture deserves to be heard and who doesn’t. In the film, Esposito starts by judging a man who was clearly a Nazi, but goes on to judge the most minor of hypocrisies as capital crimes. Esposito clearly seems to have forgotten Jesus’ words from Matthew 7:1, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.”

In the end, we learn that it wasn’t St. Andrew that came to the photographer but the Devil himself. Because this is a comedy, all of the dead are brought back to life, and lessons are learned.

As for the Movie Churches Steeple rating, if we were judging this film by the greedy priest mentioned earlier, things would be truly dark. But a kindly old priest raises the rating. He is there to comfort the grieving in the town and encourages the family of one of the deceased saying, “He’s a simple soul, it will be easier for him to enter the kingdom of Heaven.” We give the church and clergy of The Machine to Kill Bad People a Two Steeple rating.

Roberto Rossellini Month: Paisan

Paisan (1946)

Roberto Rossellini’s second film, Paisan, was (like Rome, Open City) set in World War II Italy and filmed shortly after the war ended. By necessity, the director used the same neorealistic technique as in the first film, but used it quite effectively. The battered landscape and ruins of buildings are the genuine article, not a set created on a soundstage. 

Paisan is an anthology film about the campaign of the Allied forces through Italy. As in the previous film, most of the actors aren't professionals, but people rather like the characters they play in the movie, including some American soldiers.

The story unfolds in six sections, with documentary footage between each section, and fully a third of the stories suit our purposes here at Movie Churches. 

The first episode takes place during the Allied invasion of Sicily. The Germans had been in control of the island, but as they battle the Allies, a large group of civilians -- primarily women, children, and the elderly -- gather in a Roman Catholic Church for safety. A group of soldiers approaches the church, but those inside are unsure which side the soldiers are on. 

A man from the church calls out in German, but the soldiers are Allied soldiers, English speakers, Americans. The citizens don’t trust the soldiers, the soldiers don’t trust the citizens, but they find common ground in the church.

Admittedly there wasn’t a lot to write about in regard to the church in that portion of the film, except that it was the place where people in the town met, which is slightly interesting. There is much more to write about in the fifth episode of the film.

Episode 5 is set in a 500-year-old monastery, where monks have endured as battle has raged outside their walls. And they are not alone; they have chickens. (My wife is much more inclined to like a film if the film has chickens.) They actually have a variety of animals -- sheep and goats, and a cow that villagers entrusted to the monks so the creatures would stay out of the hands of the Nazis while the war continued. 

As the war has moved beyond the community, the people return to collect their animals, and the monks give them gladly. Together they kneel and pray, “Brothers, let us thank our Lord who delivered us from danger.”

Soon, three men in army uniforms arrive at the monastery. Captain Bill Martin (William Tubbs) introduces himself and the two other captains, "We are American chaplains." The other two, Jones (Newell Jones) and Feldman (Elmer Feldman) new visitors arrive at the monastery, three men in army uniforms. “We are American chaplains,” said Captain Bill Martin (William Tubbs), introducing the two other captains, Jones (Newell Jones) and Feldman (Elmer Feldman). (Captains Martin and Jones have crosses on their helmets, Captain Feldman does not.) 

The monks greet them and say, “Our doors are open to all!”

The monks refuse the cigarettes the chaplains offer, but accept some Hershey bars. In return, the monks offer the chaplains liqueur made from their homegrown apples, accepted by Captains Martin and Feldman, but refused by Captain Jones (“I never touch the stuff.”)

The monks invite the chaplains to dinner, realizing they have only meager supplies left for the meal, but the chaplains chip in with some canned foods. The monks marvel at the canned milk. The villagers again offer the monks their animals for use (chicken dinner.)

The monks soon learn distressing news: Captain Martin is the only Catholic among the chaplains. Jones is Lutheran and Feldman is Jewish. This worries them greatly. “Merciful Saint Francis!” one of the monks exclaims. 

When one of the monks learns the denomination of Jones he frets, “The heresy of Luther is the worst of all Protestants!”

The Father Superior is quite concerned about these “two lost souls” but also says, “No soul is lost while it still has life and a will to be saved. There are always opportunities for redemption. We can do something for these brothers.” He finds a time to talk with Chaplain Martin alone.

“May I ask you a question, Father?” The monk says to the chaplain, “Have you lived long with these two other priests (sic)?”

“We’ve been together the entire Italian campaign, twenty, no twenty-one months,” Martin responds, “They’re good and dear friends, I admire them very much.”

“Have you ever tried to lead them to the true religion?”

“But Father, the Protestant and the Jew are just as convinced they are on the true path.”

“But we know they are in error. We must try by every means possible to save those two souls that could be lost.”

“I am a Catholic, Father, and a priest and I humbly believe I am a good Catholic,” Martin says.

“Forgive me, Father, I didn’t mean to remind you of your duties,” the Father Superior replies. “I just meant you are military chaplains. Your duties expose yourselves to the same risks and dangers as soldiers. Have you thought your two companions might perish any day?”

“I never felt I could judge them,” Martin says. “I know them well, they are good friends. I don’t feel guilty, my conscience is clear.”

The monk does not seem persuaded.

When the chaplains arrive for dinner, they are told to keep silent through the meal without exception.

But one of the monks speaks during the dinner, first reciting the names of their fellow monks who have gone on to “a better life,” including those that died during the war.

The chaplains are shocked that they are served the meal, but the monks are not. The Father Superior explains, “We’re fasting because providence has sent two brothers on which the light of the Gospel’s light must descend. Our hope is that with this humble sacrifice we might receive a heavenly reward.”

Chaplain Martin can’t keep quiet, “Forgive me if I don’t follow your rule but I wish to speak. I must tell you you have given me such a great gift that I feel forever in your debt. Here I’ve found that peace of mind that I’d lost amid the horrors and misfortunes of war. A beautiful and moving witness in humility, simplicity, and pure faith.”

As a Protestant, I don’t agree with the Father Superior that it means I'm lost. But I agree with the Catholic chaplain that the monks acting on their beliefs is admirable. What he said reminded me of something the magician and atheist Penn Jillette said once about a man who shared his Christian faith with him, “He was kind, and nice, and sane, and looked me in the eyes, and talked to me, and then gave me a Bible. I’ve always said I don’t respect people who don’t proselytize. I don’t respect that at all. If you believe there is a heaven and hell, and people could be going to hell or not getting eternal life or whatever, and you think it’s not really worth telling them because it would make it socially awkward.”

I agree with Penn about the admirable concern about the souls of others, and that is why we’re awarding the monks of the monastery in Paisan our highest Movie Churches rating of Four Steeples.

Roberto Rossellini Month Opens

Rome, Open City (1945)

The story behind Roberto Rossellini’s Rome, Open City could make an excellent film itself. In 1944, because of World War II, there was no longer a viable Italian film industry. Rossellini had no resources to make a film, but a wealthy elderly woman in Rome offered Rossellini money to make a film about Don Peito Morosini, a Catholic priest who aided the anti-German partisan movement in Italy and was killed by the Nazis. Just a few months after the Allied forces drove the Nazis out of Rome, Rossellini began filming.

Shooting on the film began in January of 1945 (the European war part of the war didn’t end until May of that year). Because of the scarcity of funds and resources, Rossellini adopted what became known as the “Neo-Realistic style." The term was coined to describe a crude, documentary method of film making. A few actors (even stars) were hired, but mainly a non-professional cast was used. The war-devastated city provided an incredible setting. 

Rossellini’s funds ran short, and he ran out of film, but the U.S. Army came to the rescue. To be more precise, a U.S. soldier came to the rescue. Rod Geiger of the Signal Corps had access to his unit’s film supplies, and he provided Rossellini with film scraps and whole reels that had scratches or other flaws that made them unfit for official U.S. Army use, but Rossellini found ways to make use of them. 

His film was completed and went on to be nominated for an Academy Award for Best Screenplay. It also won the first post-war Grand Prize of the Cannes Film Festival.

Don Peito Morosini, the real-life resistance fighter, becomes Father Pietro Pelligrini (Aldo Fabrizia) in the reel version. The movie priest has some endearing quirks. We first see the priest reffing a boys’ football (American soccer) game. We see him do a head-shot and instruct the boys, “I’ve told you before, no rough stuff.” When he is called away from the game to help a member of the resistance, he gives his whistle to a young boy take over as referee. 

Later in the film, we see the priest enter a statuary store, pretending to shop, but actually, he's about to meet a Resistance contact. Father Pietro asks the proprietor, “Have you a statue of St. Antony the Abbott?” While waiting in the store, the priest turns the statue of a (male) saint away from the statue of a naked woman. (O/T, why aren’t there more statuary stores around these days?)

The priest agrees to marry a couple.but first he urges them to get right with God. The bride-to-be says to him, “My last confession was so long ago, you won’t understand.” 

He responds, “Doesn’t Christ see us?” and he still performs the ceremony.

The chief work we see Father Pietro do is in support of the Resistance against the Nazi occupiers. While delivering funds for a Resistance fighter hiding in a monastery, he is asked why he is helping. He says simply, “It is my duty to help those in need.” (He hides the funds in a book with the insides cut out. A man who sees him criticizes the priest for spending money on books while people are starving). 

When the Nazis obtain information that the Resistance is hiding explosives in an apartment building, the priest comes to help. All the residents of the building have been asked to leave the building. But the priest tells the Nazis he must enter the building to “comfort the sick." A paralyzed man on one of the upper floors is still in his bed. Along with one of his altar boys, the priest gets the explosives and hides them under the sick man's bed. The man won’t stay quiet about this, so the priest knocks him unconscious so the man won’t alert the soldiers. (Not something I remember coming up in my pastoral duties classes.)

The priest leads a mass for Resistance fighters in rooms in the back of his church where he also prepares false papers, such as baptismal certificates. (When he gives a false certificate to one man, the man says, “You made me two years younger. Thank you, Father.”)

When Father Pietro is betrayed and arrested by the Gestapo, he is held prisoner along with a Communist and a German soldier who aided the Resistance. The Nazis interrogate the priest, but he only tells them, “I know nothing. What little I know I heard in confession, and those secrets must die with me. It’s our vow. But someone else is higher than you and me. I only know a man of modest needs who was in need of my help.”

He is asked by the Nazis why he is willing to work with a Communist, Giorgio (Marcello Pagliero), a man opposed to his faith. The priest answers, “I am a Catholic priest. I believe that anyone fighting for justice and liberty walks in the ways of the Lord and the ways of the Lord are infinite.”

Though the soldiers will not torture the priest, they tell him they will torture Giorgio if Father Pietro won't talk. They use whips and blowtorches to torture Giorgio, killing him. The priest gives last rites to his dead friend.

The German commandant, Major Bergmann (Harry Feist), says to the priest “This is your Christian charity!” pointing to the body.

The priest explodes, “Curse you all! You’ll be trampled in the dust like a worm!” But he quickly repents of his words saying, “My God, what have I said? Forgive me, Lord.”

But the Nazis do not forgive the priest. Instead, they order his execution. As Father Pietro is taken to a field to meet a firing squad, he is accompanied by another priest who tells him, “Be brave!” 

Pietro responds, “Oh, it’s not hard to die a good death. What’s hard is to live a good life.”

“Father, forgive them…” the priest says as the bullets pierce his body.

Rome, Open City was the beginning of Rossellini’s career. Rossellini month at Movie Churches opens auspiciously with a Four Steeple Rating for this movie's priest, Don Pietro Pellegrini.

Roberto Rossellini Month is finally here! (You know you've been waiting)

I have to admit something before we get started. For a long time, all I knew about Roberto Rossellini was that he had an affair with Ingrid Bergman. 

When you read about old-time Hollywood, this was a big deal. Not that Hollywood stars weren’t having affairs left and right back in the day, but the studios' PR people were usually pretty good about covering things up. When the actress who played Sister Mary in The Bells of St. Mary's was found to be with child while married to someone who wasn't the baby's father, it got some notice. 

For a while, groups in the Roman Catholic Church tried to organize boycotts of Bergman's work, and she needed to go to Europe to make films. The scandal was all the more serious because Rossellini was also married to someone else when he fathered Bergman’s child. Rossellini divorced his wife to marry Bergman (and Bergman divorced her husband to marry Rossellini) as you might have guessed if you’ve ever seen a film with Isabella Rossellini. Rossellini did eventually cheat on Bergman, the marriage was annulled, and both married others.

Until recently I hadn’t watched any of Rossellini’s films. I knew he was the father of “Neo-Realism” and that sounded awfully dull. When I was given a gift subscription to the Criterion Channel for Fathers' Day, I finally got around to watching my first Rossellini film, Rome, Open City. 

It was really good. 

More importantly (for this blog, anyway) a priest played a big role in the film. I started to research more about Rossellini and found he made a lot of films that prominently feature the Catholic faith. Though he wasn’t religious himself, he was very interested in Christian values and considered it a loss that Catholic ethics were neglected in an increasingly materialistic world.

I had three months of the Criterion Channel, so I did a little research. Were there enough Rossellini films featuring churches or clergy? It turns out there were more than enough. I couldn't cover all the films I wanted to, so I hope I can fit them in with the themes of upcoming months. 

So if you suffer, as I did, from Rossellini ignorance, this is a good month for you to turn that around, starting this Friday with Rome, Open City.