Neorealism (the term coined by Italian critics in 1942) is generally acknowledged as the first full-fledged movement for an authentic cinema, a reaction both to fascist Italy's escapist films and the inherent capitalism of Hollywood-style product. But neorealism was a far cry from cinema verité; as lyrical as it was direct, as sentimental as it was polemic, it was, after all, art. Our series celebrates the art in this initial moment of truth and its many inheritors in Italian cinema. Open City from 1945 is one of Roberto Rossellini's great contributions to cinema and to our sense of Italian history; it's also a magnificent showcase for Anna Magnani. A generation later, Ermanno Olmi proved himself to be one of the most original talents of the sixties in quiet tales of desperation built of lyrical observation and gently cynical humor. In Rocco and His Brothers, we sense Visconti the neorealist and Visconti the opera impresario in what is quite simply one of the most moving works of world cinema. Similarly, though little seen now, The Moment of Truth may be Francesco Rosi's greatest film, cornering despair with dazzling, unorthodox techniques much like his peasant protagonist in the bullring. Catholics in Italy were forbidden to see La dolce vita, but there are more miracles of quick and real pathos than there are orgies in the world on which former journalist Fellini files his report.