Stromboli

  • May 3, 2014 / 19:00
  • May 11, 2014 / 18:00

Director: Roberto Rossellini
Cast: Ingrid Bergman, Mario Vitale, Renzo Cesana
Italy, 81’, 1950, black & white

Italian with Turkish subtitles

The first collaboration between Roberto Rossellini and Ingrid Bergman is a devastating portrait of a woman’s existential crisis, set against the beautiful and forbidding backdrop of a volcanic island. After World War II, a Lithuanian refugee (Bergman) marries a simple Italian fisherman (Mario Vitale) she meets in a prisoner of war camp and accompanies him back to his isolated village on an island off the coast of Sicily. Cut off from the world, she finds herself crumbling emotionally, but she is destined for a dramatic epiphany. Balancing the director’s trademark neorealism—exemplified here in a remarkable depiction of the fishermen’s lives and work—with deeply felt melodrama, Stromboli is a revelation.

Rome, Open City

Rome, Open City

Paisan

Paisan

Germany Year Zero

Germany Year Zero

Stromboli

Stromboli

Umberto D

Umberto D

Bread, Love and Dreams

Bread, Love and Dreams

I Vitelloni

I Vitelloni

Journey to Italy

Journey to Italy

Banditi a Orgosolo

Banditi a Orgosolo

Cesare Zavattini

Cesare Zavattini

History of Italian Cinema

History of Italian Cinema

Trailer

Stromboli

From the Age of Reason to the “Tortoise Trainer”

From the Age of Reason to the “Tortoise Trainer”

A Salon exhibition held in the Grand Palais in Paris on May 1, 1906 showcased an Ottoman painting. This was Osman Hamdi Bey’s famous “Tortoise Trainer”. 

Paris Without End (1959-1965)

Paris Without End (1959-1965)

In the 60s, Alberto Giacometti paid homage to Paris, the city where he lived, by drawing its streets, cafés, and more private places like his studio and the apartment of his wife, Annette. These drawings would make up his last book, Paris sans fin (Paris Without End). 

Midnight Stories: The Soul <br> Aşkın Güngör

Midnight Stories: The Soul
Aşkın Güngör

The wind blows, rubbing against my legs made of layers of metal and wires, swaying the leaves of grass that have shot up from the cracks in the tarmac, and going off to the windows that look like the eyes of dead children in the wrecked buildings that seem to be everywhere as far as the eye can see.