By: Dominic La-Viola
Gianfranco Rosi’s Pompei: Below the Clouds is a documentary unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.
Typically, documentaries are grounded, raw, and often rough around the edges. Whether through footage captured during unfolding events, archival material, or even recreations used for visual clarity, they rarely aim to be cinematic in the traditional sense. Their purpose is usually informational first, aesthetic second.
Rosi’s approach could not be more different. Rather than setting out with clear exposition, voiceover narration, talking-head interviews, or a structured thesis, Pompei: Below the Clouds strips away nearly all of those conventions. There is no historical context delivered directly to the viewer, no roadmap guiding us through the significance of the site. Instead, Rosi asks us to simply observe.
What he achieves is something far more cinematic and immersive. Below the Clouds prioritizes mood and atmosphere over explanation, allowing the experience of Pompeii to unfold organically. Long, carefully composed shots of landscapes and ruins dominate the film, giving the viewer time to sit with the space rather than rush through it. The film feels less like a lesson and more like a meditation.
One of the most striking moments comes in a sequence set inside a cinema. The camera holds on a wide shot of the empty theater as a film plays on the screen, creating a layered image of spectatorship itself. We are watching a film that is watching another film, framed within a silent, vacant space. It’s a beautiful and quietly profound image that reinforces Rosi’s observational approach and his interest in how we engage with images and history.
The cinematography is what truly drives the film and ultimately separates Pompei: Below the Clouds from being a traditional documentary in any sense. It feels less like nonfiction reportage and more like an observational cinematic event. This approach is further strengthened by the decision to shoot the entire film in black and white. It’s a bold choice, but one that pays off completely, giving the film a timeless quality and deepening its already strong visual presence.
While the style and cinematography are what make the film shine, at its core Pompei: Below the Clouds is still a documentary — just one that offers insight through observation rather than explanation. Rosi’s vision doesn’t frame Pompeii merely as a historical site, but as a living, livable condition. We see this through fragments of everyday life, captured with patience and restraint, as if the camera were a silent witness.
There are moments that feel almost narrative in nature, such as scenes involving a call center operator answering phones, interacting with people going about their daily lives. Children prank-call the number, injecting humor and humanity into the film. These moments ground the experience, reminding us that Pompeii is not frozen in time, but exists alongside modern life.
Ultimately, the film makes it clear that it isn’t about rebuilding Pompeii. It’s about coexisting with it. Rosi observes the quieter labor of preservation — acts of care that resist erasure without pretending the past can ever be repaired. The film reflects on the beauty of living near Pompeii, on land that carries immense historical weight and the constant, unspoken threat of destruction. It’s a reminder that history is not something left behind, but something we continue to live with, beneath the clouds.