All roads lead to Rome, and anyone coming to the Eternal City eventually ends up at Terminal Station, a massive train and bus juncture envisioned by Mussolini but built after WWII with American assistance. It serves as the principle setting in Vittorio De Sica's 1953 Stazione Termini, which producer David O. Selznick chopped down to a 63-min "Cliff's Notes" version renamed Indiscretion of an American Housewife for the American palate. Despite using American actors as the principles, Selznick thought the film too Italian--too many terminal shots and peripheral locals. He cut out 30 minutes of original footage, editing in well-lighted close-up "glamour shots," resolving the protagonist's conflict more overtly, and tacking on a pair of sentimental Patti Page musical numbers ("Autumn in Rome" and "Indiscretion") designed to emphasize the film's themes. Actually, it was such a blatant attempt to "lengthen" the 63-minute film to acceptable feature length and to capitalize on the popularity of Patti Page to attract a larger audience; theaters wisely separated the musical add-on from the feature, using it like a promotional trailer.

De Sica understandably asked that his name be removed from the credits of Indiscretion of an American Housewife. Selznick's re-editing doesn't compare to the hatchet job American producers took to cut Sergio Leone's magnificent Once Upon a Time in America down to an incomprehensible 2 hours or to Dino De Laurnentiis' sabotage of a crucial 9-minute sequence in Nights of Cabiria, but De Sica's more naturalistic approach radically changes under the American producer's scissors. Although the basic storyline remains, Selznick's overall tone emphasizes the two lovers while lessening the impact of their surroundings. Thankfully, The Criterion Collection has resolved the situation in the best manner possible--preserving both versions on one DVD, making comparisons readily available. Film scholar Leonard Leff adds well researched commentary to Selznick's cut that will satisfy both film buffs and the curious.

With decided similarities to David Lean's Brief Encounter, De Sica adapts Cesare Zavattini's story about conflicted American housewife Mary Forbes (Jennifer Jones) attempting to break off a romantic liaison with University professor Giovanni Doria (Montgomery Cliff). While visiting her sister in Rome, she had become involved with Giovanni and must now decide whether to return to comfortable security and family in Philadelphia, or risk passionate pathways in Italy. Lovelorn Giovanni promises a seaside view of a beautiful villa in Pisa while also establishing that he's a real Italian that may just slap her around in the future. Still, Mary obviously loves (or lusts for) him, and her quandary forms the dramatic tension throughout the 90 minutes we wait at Rome's Stazione Termini.

Most striking is the chemistry between the leading actors. When the two encounter each other, the initial tension is palpable. Coming from the same Brando school of method acting, Cliff uses small gestures--fiddling with his napkin or table knife--to show his vulnerable uncertainty when recounting how they first met. His eyes communicate desperation and intensity that come across sincerely, and no one can doubt his obsessive actions when seeking his lover--including his mad dash across the multiple train tracks. Much has been made of Jone's Christian Dior outfits (which earned an Oscar nomination), but she plays a much bigger role than her fashionable wardrobe. Whether she truly felt the part doesn't factor in that much since she plays a woman who doesn't understand anything—doesn't know the terrain, the Italian language and customs, and doesn't know whether she's in love or not. The camera wisely mostly focuses on Cliff's reaction shots, as they are far more interesting.

Between De Sica's sensitivities and G.R. Aldo's cinematography, Stazione Termini creates a believably intense character study between the two uncertain lovers. Most notable is the darkened scene in the empty railway car. Beautifully backlit, it's one of the few times in the film that Mary and Giovanni are truly alone to express their passions, and they make the most of it (given censorship standards of the 1950s) to stamp authenticity on the affair. Also watch for Mary's wedding ring, which prominently appears each time she wavers about her infidelities and is hidden by Giovanni's hands when he's ignoring the practical situation.

Also notable is Richard Beymer's debut feature appearance as Paul, Mary's 14 year old nephew. Beymer is best known for his Tony role in West Side Story, but here he comes to see Mary off, serving as both a reminder of her family ties and as a convenient buffer between the two lovers. Continually casting looks of suspicion and scorn towards Cliff's character without backing down, Beymer effectively plays his small but important role.

Considering the director's talents and the international cast with professional actors, the box office receipts both abroad and in the U.S. (for the butchered version) were very disappointing. Even in the original version Statzione Termini doesn't rank as highly as De Sica's best films: Shoeshine, The Bicycle Thief, and Umberto D. But the film is truly memorable. It showcases one of modern Rome's most prominent gathering places along with Montgomery Cliff's remarkable acting ability. Unfortunately Cliff's career was cut short, but this little true to life film preserves some powerfully intense moments and is a worthy member of De Sica's canon--the last of his "neo-realist" films before doing a series of comedies.

Kudos to Criterion for presenting both versions. Plot driven individuals may applaud the faster pacing that Selznick achieves, but purists will savor the longer scenes that take in far more Italian flavor and background. Regardless, the newly released Criterion DVD allows critics and film aficionados ample opportunity to compare the two and discuss over cappuccinos.