(B, V, L, N) A moral lesson marred by adult situations involving violence, two obscenities, and brief nudity in the form of magazine pictures.
THE STATION, a small, intimate and offbeat film from Italy, could just as easily be called "AN UNFORGETTABLE NIGHT IN THE LIFE OF A STATIONMASTER." Charming, with competent acting and good cinematography, this Italian import provides a nice contrast to American films and their reliance on sex and violence.
THE STATION is a light, inconsequential, pleasant surprise. Domenico, the young station master, is settling down to work another boring graveyard shift at the train station in the tiny, uneventful village of San Marco, Italy. Suddenly, an incredibly beautiful young woman, looking desperately to get on the next train, appears out of the pouring rain, followed by her jilted lover who will stop at nothing to bring her back to the high society party she has just escaped. There is one problem, however, the train will not come until morning, and tensions are bound to build in the meantime. This mix of elements makes for a rich, ultimately boiling brew, full of action and emotion.
Sergio Rubini, who plays the young station master, makes a solid directing/writing debut, clearly showing his potential by delighting the audience with a concise story-telling style while creating a rich texture by cleverly exposing such highlights as the contrast between the beautiful Flavia and the station environment which temporarily traps her. He also exposes the human touches, such as the "apron strings" relationship between Domenico and his bedridden hypochondriac mother.