‘Exterior Night’: A Speculative Tale of Political Kidnapping

The Italian Prime Minister’s Kidnapping: A Comprehensive External Examination

On March 16, 1978, at 9:02 a.m., on Mario Fani Street in the center of Rome, former Prime Minister and Christian Democrat leader Aldo Moro was kidnapped by unknown assailants.

At that time, Italian society was plagued by terrorism from both far-right and far-left groups, with frequent incidents of violence and kidnapping. The kidnapping of Aldo Moro by the far-left armed group “Red Brigades,” the subsequent shooting of his five bodyguards, his 55-day captivity, and his murder following a “people’s trial” are remembered as a shocking episode symbolizing the violent struggles of the so-called “Years of Lead.” The vast amount of research, numerous books, and many visual works created about this event illustrate how it continues to be a massive trauma that profoundly affects the identity of many Italians.

Moreover, the event occurred against a backdrop of complex political maneuvers, including the “historic compromise” between the long-dominant Christian Democrats and the Italian Communist Party, and the emerging coalition government. Various political machinations involving the mafia and anti-communist forces both domestically and abroad were involved (or so it is believed). As a result, conspiracy theories have abounded, and a plethora of “truths” continue to emerge to this day. Indeed, the Aldo Moro kidnapping and assassination remains one of the most crucial moments in the study of modern Italian history.

‘Exterior Night’ is a monumental work by renowned Italian director Marco Bellocchio, spanning a total of 340 minutes. The film, originally produced as a six-part television drama, is Bellocchio’s first venture into depicting the Aldo Moro kidnapping and assassination. In fact, Bellocchio had previously explored this subject in his 2003 film Goodbye, Night (original title Buongiorno, notte), inspired by the memoir Prisoner (1998) by Anna Laura Braghetti, a member of the Red Brigades.

This film markedly differs from other Italian works dealing with the “Years of Lead” and the Moro case. Instead of verifying historical facts or uncovering new details, it presents a “what-could-have-been” history through the internal perspective of Chiara, a female activist modeled after Braghetti. The narrative blends dreams and reality, offering a speculative portrayal where Moro survives the ordeal. Notably, the film even explores an alternate scenario where Moro does not die, following the development of an imaginary film script introduced in the movie.

The name of this fictional script, handed to Chiara by someone unaware of her true identity, is precisely ‘Goodbye, Night.’ This episode exemplifies the meta-structural aspect of Bellocchio’s work, as discussed below.

So, what perspective did Bellocchio adopt when he revisited the Molo case in ‘Exterior Night’ more than 19 years after his masterpiece? Let us quote a part of the statement by Bellocchio himself.

In this film, except for the tragic epilogue at the end, we are outside the confinement of Mauro. This time, the protagonists are men and women who acted outside the Moro confinement, who were involved in the kidnapping from various perspectives: family members, politicians, priests, the Pope, professors, police, secret service, members of the Red Brigades on the run or in prison, and even the Mafia and infiltrators.

From the press release

True to these words, the film shows the events before and after the incident from the viewpoints of Francesco Cossiga, the Minister of the Interior in charge of the investigation, Pope Paul VI, Adriana Faranda, a member of the Red Brigades, Eleonora Morro, Aldo’s wife, and others. In other words, if “Hello, Night” depicted the “night” as witnessed (experienced) by the people inside Mollo’s confinement, this film attempts to depict the outside of the confinement site, or “outside the night,” by intersecting multiple viewpoints.

A single incident of kidnapping and confinement is viewed from the viewpoints of different people, each with their own “narrative,” which sometimes overlap, collide, and conflict with each other. The film invites us to experience a completely different cinematic experience from the usual films that pile up historical facts with monolithic plots, as was attempted in “Hello, Night” in the past.

The Characteristic Soundscapes in Bellocchio’s Films

Bellocchio is also highly regarded for his characteristic use of music. He has made many vivid allusions to existing music, not only classical, but also to the aforementioned “Hello, Night,” which had a particularly strong impact on the audience. In particular, the sequence in which Pink Floyd’s “The Great Gig in the Sky” is superimposed on the hallucinatory images seen by the main character Chiara, as well as “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” (also by Pink Floyd) and “The Great Gig in the Sky” (also by Pink Floyd) were particularly impressive. On You Crazy Diamond” by Pink Floyd, was so overwhelmingly powerful that I would say it was the best moment of my personal “film x music” experience in my lifetime.

What about the use of music in this film? First of all, I would like to mention the wonderful original score by Fabio Massimo Capogrosso, a young composer who also composed the music for Bellocchio’s latest film “Edgardo Mortara: The Strange Fate of a Boy,” which was released this spring (in reverse order of its theatrical release in Japan). The score, which is both profound and honest, a rarity in films these days, plays an important role in sustaining a suspenseful mood throughout the film (he won the title of composer of the year at the Puglia Soundtrack Awards for his score to this film).

On the other hand, the number of existing songs used is not large, and given the length of the film, it is rather quite small. However, the richness of the connotations contained in them (or so the viewer is led to imagine) can only be described as the Verrocchio style.

As for the use of classical references, Verdi’s music, which has been used frequently in his previous works, is again used in important scenes in this production. Paul VI’s vision of Moro performing the so-called “Wayfarer of the Cross” to the tune of “The Day of Wrath,” one of the most famous mass pieces in the famous “Requiem,” is one of the most sublime and profound images in this work. This scene is one of the most sublime and profound images in the film.

If we know that this piece was originally written by Verdi to commemorate the Italian poet, writer, and political thinker Alessandro Manzoni, we cannot help but feel the connection with the Passion-filled figure of Moro, which is extremely suggestive.

Also noteworthy is the scene in which the founding members of the “Red Brigade” are put on trial. Despite the harsh prosecution, the members of the Red Brigades remain firm in their stance, and together with their sympathizers they sing the famous revolutionary song “The International”. The song itself is not particularly surprising, since it has been depicted in many films in various forms in which leftist activists from the East and West have sung this song. What is noteworthy here is that the song, which was originally sung a cappella by the defendants and their sympathizers in the courtroom, is now accompanied by a magnificent accompaniment that appears offscreen before long.

In short, the “imaginary accompaniment,” which should not be possible from the standpoint of realism, covers the soundscape of the film as if it were a matter of course (and with an “on” quality that gives the illusion that it is actually playing in the film’s setting). At first glance, this scene may seem casual, but in the sense that this part of the film skillfully exposes the arbitrariness of the external direction that inevitably accompanies the act of “storytelling” through the music (and the way it is added), does it not also demonstrate the singular and meta-authority of the great master Bellocchio?

A Single Track: The 1974 Spanish Pop Song

Only one pop song is used in the film. This probably does not mean that Bellocchio is giving pop songs the cold shoulder because of his own taste, but rather, the fact that only one song is chosen in this long drama suggests his intention to put the spotlight on the song itself (and the sequence in which it is played). The scene is the one at the end of the first act.

The scene comes at the end of the first act. The Red Brigade sympathizers’ jubilation at the news of Moro’s abduction, the children leaving school with their parents amidst sirens, Minister of the Interior Cossiga’s surprise and anguish, Eleonora’s anxious look at the helicopters gathering over the crime scene…and then, the scene of the “Red Brigade” in the middle of the first act, In a slow, rhythmic montage of Moro’s expression as he is being carried to the Red Brigades’ hideout in a small wooden box, the Spanish pop singer Janet sings her hit song “Porque te vas” (1974), somewhat out of place, while a slow, rhythmic montage of the Red Brigades’ faces is played. (1974), a hit song sung by Spanish pop singer Janet.

“Porque te vas” may be reasonably recognizable to Europop aficionados, but for moviegoers, it is first and foremost a song that was memorably used in Carlos Saura’s “The Crow’s Breeding” (1976 The song should be familiar to moviegoers first and foremost because of its striking use in Carlos Saura’s “The Crow’s Breeding” (1976). The song was hardly talked about immediately after its release in 1974, and of course it was not widely known outside of Spain. However, when Saura used it in his masterpiece “The Crow’s Breeding,” the song became instantly popular and was a hit in many parts of Europe. For European audiences, this song is deeply connected to their collective memory of the mid to late 1970s.

In “The Raven’s Breed,” the song appears several times as the favorite song of the main character, Ana, a young girl who has lost her parents and lives with her aunt. The song is used in an excellent dramatic way, overlapping with the psychological portrayal of Ana and the other characters.

The song is also often associated with Spain’s domestic politics of the time: in the mid-1970s, the country was in the thawing period of transition to a democratic regime after the collapse of Franco’s dictatorship following the civil war and his death. This song reflects the parting from the past and the Spanish society that was shaken by hope and anxiety in such a time of change.

In this light, the somewhat abrupt use of “Porque te vas” in the film ‘Exterior Night’ can be considered to have both contemporaneous and critical connotations. When “Porque te vas” is played over a montage that traverses various people’s points of view, with its sad colors and yet somehow dignified purity, we are reminded of the deep melancholy and sense of crisis that was stirring in the “lead age,” as well as of the future that political youths were blindly pursuing. When the song “Porque te vas” is played, we witness the deep melancholy and sense of crisis that was stirring in the “lead age” and the light of the future that these political youths were blindly pursuing.

The Implications of “This Story is Fiction”

I would like to make one more important point in connection with the scene in which “Porque te vas” is played. When the first act ends following Moro’s anxious expression described above, the following message is displayed while the music continues to play after the darkening of the stage.

Real people and things have been reconstructed.
Various real elements were freely reinterpreted
Any association with non-specific persons is coincidental

In short, we are presented with the familiar cautionary tale of a play based on a true story, but in light of Bellocchio’s auteurism, which I have discussed, it would be overly obedient to accept this as a mere clerical message. I would like to think that this is a statement of the ethics of Bellocchio as a filmmaker.

What exactly are historical facts? What is the act of constructing or reconstructing a narrative or interpreting or reinterpreting “reality” in film? What, moreover, can/should films tell, or should/should not tell, about historical events? ……

There is a symbolic scene. It is placed at the beginning of this lengthy work and, moreover, appears again at the end of the film, as if to convey how symbolic the intent is. It is a scene in which Moro, who was supposed to have been brutally murdered by the “Red Brigades” as a matter of historical fact, escapes “execution” and is recuperating in a hospital. In other words, Bellocchio has once again followed the unconventional “if” he presented in his masterpiece “Hello, Night,” and more boldly, he presents it with an even more realistic construction.

Needless to say, this is a fictionalized depiction that is quite different from the historical facts. Is this a dim “dream” of the dying Moro?　But Bellocchio, like his depiction in “Hello, Night,” seems to have filmed this scene with a certain conviction that transcends such plot gimmicks. In other words, the sequence of images that we have just begun to see and that we have seen so far is a film, a fiction constructed from a filmmaker’s point of view, and is presented with an unabashedly unobtrusiveness.

Metafictional Depictions of the Dilemmas in Fact-Based Stories

There are other memorable, if less direct, moments that expose the film’s “cinematic” nature for what it is. One is a scene in which Cossiga goes to a mental ward based on uncertain information that Moro is being held in a certain place. Naturally, the information is false, and Cossiga is deeply disappointed. However, he is himself becoming mentally unbalanced, and his insistence on searching every possible “point of view” leads him to a kind of impasse, where he cannot rationally rule out all possible narrative patterns that the emergency situation of Moro’s incarceration may cause. He is forced into a kind of impasse.

This is a sequence that symbolically represents the dilemma of Bellocchio himself, a storyteller and filmmaker of later years, who, no matter how many documents and opinions he collects about the real incident, is faced with the dilemma that a “story” depicting the absolute and only truth cannot be established in principle. The film is a symbolic representation of Bellocchio’s own dilemma.

The most suggestive sequence for considering such a complicated point is the series of episodes in Act V, in which an elderly sister provides information to Eleonora and “reveals” her story (according to Bellocchio, these episodes are not “reconstructions” but rather complete creations). ). The old sister first claims that she “saw with her own eyes a blindfolded Moro being carried into a building by a group of young men. Eleonora is perplexed by this story, but goes to the building, hoping for a glimmer of hope. However, what unfolds there is a film being shot by a theater professor and his students, dressed as Moro and the members of the “Red Brigade,” in the guise of an exercise.

This seemingly superfluous and unrelated episode is the decisive device that reaffirms that the sequence of images we are now witnessing is nothing other than a reconstructed story, just like the film in the play (*). (*) Berocchio is always vigilantly watching for an opportunity to shake the tautological proposition shared between the filmmaker and the audience, namely, that “a story based on facts is based on facts,” and to unleash the inherent potential of the film.

The title of this film, “Esterno notte,” is also a term used to refer to night location shooting during film production.