Plot Details: This opinion reveals everything about the movie's plot.
Le Notti di Cabiria (The Nights of Cabiria) is an incredible work of art, even if it is less than fully satisfying. The timeless themes of this Fellini film are certainly poignant and touching. Quite of a few film-lovers whose comments on this film I encountered rate it among their all-time favorites. For me personally, it is a very fine if imperfect film.
Historical Background: Fellini, certainly one of the most revered directors of all time, learned his craft under the tutelage of Rossellini with whom he worked on Open City in 1945. He then made his mark initially in the Italian style of Neorealism that was all the rage following the end of World War II. Italy was in ruins, poverty and corruption was rampant, and funding for the arts nonexistent. Neorealism focused on the troubles of the poor while utilizing filmmaking tactics that minimized costs – nonprofessional actors and actresses and low standard technical equipment that resulted in gritty images (but which was somewhat appropriate to the subject matter). The classics of Fellini’s Neorealism period include I Vitelloni, La Strada, and the picture under review here. Later, Fellini abandoned Neorealism in preference for autobiographical subject matter presented in a fantastical and somewhat surreal style and a focus on the upper classes rather than the poor. His most famous works from the later phase of his career include La Dolce Vita, 8 ½, and Amarcord. Nights of Cabiria, as the last work of his Neorealistic period, is somewhat transitional, exhibiting a foreshadowing of techniques later refined in, especially, La Dolce Vita. In fact, specific content is transferred from Nights of Cabiria to La Dolce Vita and merely presented from a different perspective. These cross-references include exotic dancing by ethnic performers in a nightclub, a prostitute peeking through a keyhole while her prospective client makes love to another, religious processions, claimed sightings of the Virgin Mary, a stone house by the sea, an overweight, slovenly female character, and a prostitute flaunting a wealthy client to her rivals.
The Story: Cabiria (Guiletta Masina) has been a prostitute since age fifteen, when she took to the streets with long, dark hair. Now she is blond. In the opening scene, Cabiria is seen romping playfully with a boyfriend (and pimp), Giorgio. She encourages him to join her by the banks of the river, but his motives turn out to be sinister. He abruptly robs her and pusher her into the Tiber River. Unable to swim, she is close to drowning, but is rescued by bikinied Roman boys who hear her screams. After she is crudely resuscitated, she is piqued and seems almost annoyed at her rescuers. Her only concern is for Giorgio and her shoes. She has apparently not yet accepted the notion that he pushed her into the river.
Returning to her house, Cabiria’s condition attracts the unwanted attention of her friend, Wanda (Francis Marzi). Cabiria feels humiliated that she has been betrayed by Giorgio but Wanda intuits the truth of what’s happened. Cabiria is irate, saying, “Mind your own ass!” Though they bicker, the bond between Cabiria and Wanda is really Cabiria’s one honest link to the rest of humanity. Wanda bears Cabiria’s tirades stoically and with uncommon generosity, like a true friend.
Outside Cabiria’s hovel of a home on Ostia Road, little boys scramble over a Jungle Jim and call out her name. This is her neighborhood. In the evening, Cabiria goes to work on the street on Passeggiata Archeologica in Rome, where prostitutes in all sizes and shapes are being selected by customers in cars. She engages her competitors in saucy repartee, especially an overly large hooker named “Bomba Atomica.”
One evening, Cabiria finds herself working at an unusual site in a posh section of town (Via Veneto) where her somewhat ratty clothes mark her as out of place. Unexpectedly, she gets picked up by a matinee idol, Alberto Lazzari (Amedeo Nazzari), who has just quarreled with his girlfriend. Lazzari takes Cabiria to an exclusive nightclub where she smugly walks past the bouncers (she would not ordinarily be allowed in). Later, he takes her to his plush mansion where she encounters ornamental objects the likes of which she has never seen. On the way, in his fancy American car, she calls out to her friends, “You see who I’m with? Alberto Lazzi!” She and Alberto converse a bit and just as it seems she is to have a brief respite from her empty life, Alberto’s classy girlfriend returns to “make-up” from their earlier fight. Cabiria gets locked in the bathroom so that she won’t be seen and ends up spending the night sleeping on the bathroom floor with the dog. At first, she peers wistfully out through the keyhole at the two making love, obviously hoping that he will throw the girlfriend out – but no such luck. In the morning, Alberto unlocks the door so she can unceremoniously sneak out unnoticed by Alberto’s girlfriend.
Dumped in a remote spot on the outskirts of the city by another trick, she encounters a good Samaritan – really the only decent male character in the film – who visits the destitute who live in holes and caves on the edge of the city. One of the recipients of his charity is a former prostitute, grown old. Cabiria gets an unwanted glimpse into how her own life could turn out if she isn’t careful.
Cabiria and some of the other hookers join a pilgrimage to a religious shrine. All sorts of down-and-out souls trek to a spot where the Virgin Mary supposedly appeared to ask for salvation and help with their respective tribulations. Some seek remedies for health problems and others more tangible favors. Cabiria asks for relief from her life as a hooker. A man on crutches, seeking a miracle recovery, merely collapses to the floor at the altar when his crutches are taken from him.
Cabiria buys a ticket for a show in a theater, looking for some entertainment. It is a magic and hypnotist act. The performer selects Cabiria from the audience (along with some men). At first she resists, but is finally coaxed into participation. She is mesmerized and acts out a kind of scene that is a mix of her fantasies and memories. She reveals her inner self to an extent that she normally never exposes. We see her hopes, her innocence, and her pride in owning her own home and having a savings account. When she is released from the spell, the louts in the audience greet her with jeers and mockery. We now better understand why Cabiria keeps her inner self so closely guarded from others.
POSSIBLE SPOILERS. CONSIDER SKIPPING THE NEXT TWO PARAGRAPHS.
Outside the theater, she meets Oscar D’Onofrio (Francois Perier), who presents himself as a sensitive, kindly accountant, claiming to have been deeply moved by the genuine innocence that she exhibited while hypnotized. Over the next few weeks, he courts her with flowers and soft entreaties, finally proposing to her. Though hesitiating, she ultimately gives into the promises of happiness that he offers. She naïvely sells her house and cashes in her bank account. After saying a tear-filled goodbye to Wanda, Cabiria sets out to join Oscar in a new happy life.
Cabiria is radiant with the expectation of future bliss as she and Oscar enjoy a lunch together. He then invites her for a walk in the woods and leads her to an isolated cliff overlooking the sea. Once again, she is to be robbed at the water’s edge – this time by a cruel con artist. Cabiria perceives Oscar’s agenda and is devastated mainly by the betrayal of her hopes. She begs him to throw her over the cliff and turns over her money to him. He takes the purse but runs off without pushing her over. Dazed, Cabiria wanders back to the streets where she encounters a group of street revelers. Moved by their joy, she smiles through her sadness, momentarily turning in the direction of the camera and smiling at all of us. Many viewers describe their experience of this final ten minutes of the film as extraordinarily powerful.
Themes: One issue addressed early in this film and further illuminated throughout is the contrast between person and persona. The person that Cabiria exhibits to the world is not only quite different than her inner self but, in some ways, diametrically opposed. The persona that she wears is that of an independent, self-sufficient, rough and tough woman of the streets. She is brash, vulgar, and loud-mouthed and something of a showoff. She is prone to outbursts of anger and is often bitchy and defensive, even with her best friend, Wanda. Though she sells her body, she is standoffish with respect to her inner being. She has learned how to hide in the bushes during police raids and to battle the aggressive prostitutes verbally and even in cat-fights.
Her inner person is gradually revealed to viewers through her unguarded moments, facial expressions, and under hypnotism. Cabiria is at heart a sensitive and innocent romantic. She searches for a refuge from her troubles in true love and/or salvation. She is composed of an odd mix of sadness and hope. Somehow, she is able to preserve a positive outlook on life despite constant adversity. Though she sells her body, she refuses to sell her soul. She has spunk and a spirited sense of joy. She dances, for example, briskly in the posh nightclub and on the street. Though sometimes a bit ridiculous, she persuades us that she is something of a sprite dressed up as a hardened woman.
Is Cabiria (and Masina who portrays her) appealing? Her persona is mostly not; her inner person mostly is. The question therefore becomes, “Can you peer through her persona to her inner beauty?” And, is it worth it to do so? Were I to meet Cabiria in real life, I probably would choose not to relate to her. Her outward persona would annoy me to an extent that would likely discourage me from seeking out her inner person. Fellini, it is said, knew that “the key to making a great film was creating characters who were likable and could make some connection with his audience.” Cabiria, as a character, is likely to be more likeable for some viewers for others. I personally find her persona off-putting to an extent that tries my patience. I prefer people in whom there is less of a gap between what you see and what they really are. Her outer person is not all that attractive to me either in behavior or physical appearance. Many viewers, on the other hand, find her adorable and loveable.
A second theme in Nights of Cabiria is that Cabiria is consistently victimized by men. This is not a film that will make men in the audience proud of their gender. First, she is robbed by her pimp/boyfriend Giorgio. Later, she is locked into the bathroom for the night by the self-absorbed, wealthy Alberto. Then, she is exploited for laughs by a hypnotist and jeered by the men in the audience. Finally, she is conned and robbed by a man pretending to offer true love. Cabiria reminds me of Charlie Brown in the Peanuts cartoon strip. He keeps getting sucked in again and again by Lucy and each time falls flat on his back. Cabiria is exploited by all men pretty much alike.
Cabiria is also, however, victimized by the false promises of religion – by the promise of redemption. She approaches the Madona with open heart, in full expectation of guidance. “Wanda, over here! Stay close. What happens next? You oughta hear my heart beating. I’m shaking. I feel so strange, Wanda.” “Madonna, help me to change my life. Bestow your grace on me too. Make me change my life.” Then, her life doesn’t change. She muses, “We haven’t changed. Nobody’s changed! We’re all the same as before, just like the cripple.” Fellini always resented the Catholic schooling to which he was subjected and never tired of getting back at religion in his films.
Nights of Cabiria is in large part about the eternal battle between hope and despair. Cabiria sometimes sinks into utter despair and even momentarily loses the desire to live. When rescued at the opening from the river, she is not grateful. Near the end, she begs D’Onofrio to push her over the cliff. Yet Cabiria is nothing if not resilient. She epitomizes eternal hope in the goodness of mankind. Despite all evidence to the contrary, she won’t stop believing in the possibility of being truly loved. She is not so much the hooker with the golden heart as the hooker with the rubber heart.
Viewers are left finally to ponder whether eternal optimism is admirable or contemptible?. No doubt, Cabiria emotionally has the “nine lives, like a cat” attributed to her by her rescuers at the film’s opening. Resilience of the human spirit is an admirable thing, but the question has to be asked whether Cabiria’s resilience has extended over into self-destructive naivety and blind vulnerability. Does she triumph in the end as some reviewers suggest? Does her final smile through her pain mean that purity can prevail even when subjected to immense cruelty? Or, is it simply more evidence that she will continue to be an easy prey for scoundrels? How long will that touching smile last when Cabiria must face the reality of no longer owning her home and having lost all of her savings? We already know from the Madonna scene that Cabiria easily flip-flops between hope and despair. Is Nights of Cabiria simply a circular journey in which hope always gives way to emptiness? The film begins with a boyfriend prepared to sacrifice Cabiria’s life for a mere 40,000 lire; it ends with another ready to kill her for 400,000 lire. Apparently the value of he life over the course of the film has increased 10 fold. I suppose that’s progress of a sort.
Fellini himself stated that Cabiria was his one character that he continued to worry about all of his life. And why not? He was married to her in a sense. In 1992, Fellini received an honorary career achievement Oscar and while accepting it, peered at his wife, Masina, in the audience. When the program cut to her face, there was a broad smile on her face through streaming tears – reminiscent of the final scene of Nights in Cabiria. Real life imitating art! Personally, I don’t experience the ending as a triumph. Instead, like Fellini, I am left worrying about Cabiria’s fate.
Production Values: Giulietta Masina was both Fellini’s wife and his collaborator. She starred in many Fellini films and to some extent the characters that she plays are all cut from the same cloth. Her performance here as Cabiria is one of her finest ever. It is said that Chaplin’s “Little Tramp” served as her model. Like Chaplin, Masina possesses that extraordinary capacity to express the deepest emotions through facial expression, flashing eyes, and subtle twitches of her lips or eyebrows. Her performance here as Cabiria is truly superlative.
Fellini was still in his neorelistic phase for Nights of Cabiria. He presents us with edge of the city squalor and a barrenness of environment that exudes alienation. Cabiria’s house, for example, is little more than a stucco cube on a desolate lot. Later, we see people living in caves and under bridges. All of this is captured in vivid images with sharp black-and-white contrasts. At the same time, Nights of Cabiria reveals some of the rambling pace that Fellini developed further in his later works.
The use of light in Nights of Cabiria deserves some special comment. Much of the time, Cabiria is photographed in the shadows of evening, aptly characterizing the bleak moments of her existence. During times when her fortunes seem to be picking up, the light brightens and her face sparkles. Then, the final scene at the cliff occurs at sunset, symbolically representing the dashing of hopes as the sun is being swallowed up by darkness. The liltingly beautiful musical score by Nino Rota is also noteworthy. Rota was a frequent Fellini collaborator.
Bottom-Line:Nights of Cabiria won the 1957 Oscar for Best Foreign Film, which was Fellini’s second in a row (a feat duplicated only by Ingmar Bergman). Fellini added two more Best Foreign Film Academy Awards later in his career (8 ½ and Amarcord.
I have to admit to being less of a Fellini fan than are many other film-lovers. I do, however, greatly admire four of his most famous works: this film, La Strada, 8 ½, and Amarcord. I have very little use for La Dolce Vita. Nights of Cabiria, in my opinion is fully competitive with the very best of Fellini’s output.
In the end, Cabiria draws viewers into her world and it is a world of innate resilience of the human spirit. It is an experience that many find unforgettable. The Criteria DVD is the clear choice for this film, benefiting from a careful and extensive restoration process. There is also an added scene (the beneficent sackman, who dispenses charity) and some worthy extras, including an interview with a Fellini assistant, Dominique Delouche, and producer Dino De Laurentiis. The theatrical trailer is also included along with an excerpt from Fellini’s The White Sheik.
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