Imagine living under the shadow of a legendary volcano, a quiet giant that shaped ancient history and still hums with life today. Gianfranco Rosi’s latest documentary, ‘Below the Clouds,’ takes you on an intimate journey through Neapolitan life, revealing untold stories. What secrets does Vesuvius still hold?
Gianfranco Rosi’s latest documentary, “Below the Clouds,” offers a profoundly meditative and intricately layered exploration of life lived in the enduring shadow of Mount Vesuvius, presenting a vivid portrait of modern Neapolitan existence intertwined with the ancient volcano’s formidable legacy. This compelling film transcends a simple geographical study, delving instead into the complex relationship between a community and its most iconic, yet subtly threatening, natural landmark.
Vesuvius, a name steeped in rhythmic mythology and a history of cataclysmic destruction, often conjures images solely from a bygone era, overshadowing its continuous presence in the contemporary world. Rosi masterfully positions the legendary cone not as an overt, menacing presence, but rather as an auspiciously backgrounded, calm yet potent variable that shapes the daily rhythms and anxieties of Neapolitan inhabitants, nearly two millennia after its devastating eruption engulfed Pompeii.
The film brilliantly illustrates the myriad ways individuals adapt to and perceive their volcanic neighbor. For some, Vesuvius fuels a busy, investigative livelihood, drawing them into its geological mysteries. For others, it manifests as a source of everyday environmental anxieties, a constant, underlying hum in their consciousness. And for a significant portion, its drastic legacy has receded into the realm of ancient history, a distant echo rather than an immediate concern, highlighting a fascinating spectrum of human resilience and forgetfulness.
In “Below the Clouds,” Rosi employs his signature keen-eyed observational style, transforming individually unremarkable days and lives into a broader, more societally searching narrative. While perhaps less overtly focused on current geopolitical events than some of his previous features like “Notturno” or “Fire at Sea,” this work stands out as one of his warmest, rich with the subtle pleasures derived from particular places, changing weather patterns, and the fluid motion of human activity, avoiding the pitfalls of a mere travelogue.
The film’s title draws inspiration from Jean Cocteau’s famed assertion, “Vesuvius makes all the clouds in the world,” a sentiment beautifully rendered true by Rosi’s stunning black-and-white cinematography. Silvery blankets of stratus clouds gracefully hover over Naples’ bustling streets, serene beaches, and rugged scrubland, offering a lyrical counter-narrative to the city’s more familiar gritty portrayals. Closer to the volcano, delicate fumaroles release ethereal breaths of volcanic gas and steam, adding to the atmospheric depth.
Rosi also casts his lens on various municipal bodies, most notably the weary but dedicated Neapolitan fire department, revealing how a city ticks from the inside out, echoing the documentary style of Frederick Wiseman. Through their all-night call center, a patient, grizzled chief navigates a diverse array of crises, from rescuing a kitten trapped under a sidewalk grate to responding to harrowing domestic abuse incidents, showcasing the everyday heroism and challenges faced by public servants.
Beyond man-made emergencies, the fire department serves as a crucial point of contact for perceived natural disasters, even if not directly Vesuvian calamities. The film captures the terrifying chaos when the region is struck by a 4.2 magnitude earthquake, the largest in 40 years, underscoring the ever-present environmental vulnerabilities. The starkly experimental score by Oscar winner Daniel Blumberg, blending sparse music with scientific sound-gathering devices, further amplifies the groans and reverberations of the land and sea, giving Vesuvius a voice in this intricate cinematic exploration.
Rosi’s high-contrast monochrome images meticulously seek vibrant life and understated beauty across a region crisscrossed with centuries of scars. While occasionally delivering breathtaking individual shots, such as horsedrawn carts traversing an overcast, rain-gleaming beach, the film consciously avoids overtly postcard-perfect tableaux. Instead, “Below the Clouds” presents a complex, humanistic study, inviting audiences to ponder how life thrives and persists in a landscape defined by both ancient power and modern resilience.
