Its plaintive, oppressive finale - a symphony of silently listening objects on a nondescript street corner in Rome, destined for a rendezvous to which none of the lovers show up - is one of the most revolutionary and rightly celebrated moments of mid-century European cinema. But L'eclisse is characterized by the same cinematic brilliance throughout: Antonioni's depiction of urban alienation insinuates itself insidiously into the doomed affair between a translator (Monica Vitti) and a stockbroker (Alain Delon). In masterfully composed tableaux, Antonioni exposes the inner emptiness of Rome's nouveau riche society and hints that a deeper restlessness lies behind the modern blasé attitude. Vittoria seems tired of love, her relationship with Piero remains superficial, more a game than a feeling. The last seven minutes bring this aesthetic of disappearance to perfection. A work of constantly growing unease, whose seismic shock Martin Scorsese described as “progress in storytelling”.

Loan of the film print with kind support of Cinecittà Luce.

The lower Po Valley: a rich and beautiful landscape, a region that could be one of the richest in Italy, but where people live in extreme poverty. The film was started in 1943, but not completed until 1947, and is considered one of the first neo-realist films. Connected to his home region, Antonioni shot his first film there and let his camera wander along the misty Po. With a keen eye for detail, he captures the silence and slowness, showing life in abandoned huts and on dilapidated boats. A floating documentary - and the birth of a director.