The Children's Train

With the war finally over and the communists and the fascists vying for control of the bombed out streets of Napoli, "Antonietta" (Serena Rossi) makes a very difficult choice. She has nothing and that isn't likely to change, so when an opportunity comes tpo send her urchin of a child "Amerigo" (Christian Cervone) to a camp further north where at least he will be fed and cared for for one month, she decides to sign him up. Despite warnings from many of her neighbours that these are just political indoctrination camps he is despatched to meet and live with "Derna" (Barbara Ronchi). Both are initially very wary of the other, and "Amerigo" is all too used to doing what he wanted when he wanted - so any sort of discipline was going to be a struggle, but as he is warmly embraced by her and pretty much the entire village we begin to see signs of the real character emerging and it appears he might just have some talent with a violin! At the end of the month, it is time to go home but with his subsistence mother still no more capable of providing for him and with him finally knowing something of a mother's love elsewhere, what will the child do? This is told by way of a retrospective so we already know the answer to that, but for the most part this is still a touching and engaging portrayal of an enthusiastic young lad trying to grow up in a post-war Italy where he was but one of many of the hopeless left to fend for themselves in a country torn by war and civil strife. Despite her latterly sparing appearances, Rossi also delivers quite powerfully as a woman conflicted between the neccessities of getting by - not always legally - and her aspirations for her son whom she clearly loves but then, she isn't that much more than a girl herself. Ronchi proves to be the perfect foil for the young Cervone as she imbues her initially anxious character with something really quite relatable. Indeed as we progress it becomes quite clear that though from a large and supportive family herself, love isn't an emotion she has too much experience of either. The production design looks authentic as it helps the photography and the delicately crafted score to contrast the ghastliness of the ruins in which they live with the relative prosperity of a northern village that hasn't a great deal more, but has not the remnants of the battle to contend with in quite the same way. Cervone has something of Dickens's "Artful Dodger" to him and presents us with a loveably engaging persona to top off a stylish look at communities and people dealing with the real price of victory.