1900 is one of the longest commercially released films ever made, running 5 hours and 17 minutes. Spanning 45 years across four loosely defined chapters, it’s a film that truly needs its runtime to tell its story. An epic that excels in both grand spectacle and intimate moments, it is directed by Bernardo Bertolucci, a self-proclaimed Marxist, mentored by Pasolini, and, at the time, regarded as the next great Italian filmmaker. Through the lifelong friendship of a wealthy landowner and a socialist peasant, the film explores the brutality of class oppression and the struggle between socialism and fascism.
As a production, 1900 is undeniably massive in scope. The cinematography by Vittorio Storaro (Apocalypse Now, The Last Emperor) delivers some of the most stunning imagery ever put on film, while Ennio Morricone’s score is both haunting and unforgettable. The way the film spans decades is incredibly effective, the editing is seamless, making the passage of time feel natural rather than disruptive. There are no obvious time jumps with title cards announcing “X years later”; instead, transitions are woven smoothly into the narrative, and we simply feel the years slipping by.
Adding to the film’s immersive quality are the small, lived-in details that bring its world to life, whether it’s children catching frogs, a hunchback wandering the fields, or a couple negotiating their mortgage. These moments create a sense of authenticity that only a film of this scale can achieve. Over its five-hour runtime, you don’t just watch 1900, you live in its version of Italy.
Beyond its sense of time and place, the film’s greatest strength lies in its central relationship. Originally close as children, the dynamic between Alfredo (Robert De Niro) and Olmo (Gérard Depardieu) evolves in fascinating ways. Seeing how life shapes them, their shifting personalities, the choices they make, and the forces that push them apart, is the film’s most rewarding aspect.
Some argue that De Niro was miscast as the weak-willed landowner, but it’s precisely his detachment that makes the role compelling. His arc explores the same theme that The Zone of Interest would later build an entire film around, the banality of evil and how complacency allows it to spread. Watching him transform from a shy child into a confident young man, only to later become isolated, disconnected, and ultimately unable to hold his family together, makes for a fascinating character study.
Equally engaging is Gérard Depardieu, who delivers a performance that feels like a complete 180-degree turn from his other 1976 film, Maîtresse. He masterfully balances his character’s brokenness, the result of years of oppression, with his unshakable strength in refusing to compromise his morals. A speech delivered directly to the camera later in the film is particularly powerful and well-executed.
However, not everything works as well as the immersion and central friendship. While 1900 is often praised for its ambition, it leans into excess at times, particularly in its exaggerated (and sometimes cruel) depictions of violence and sexuality.
Overall, the first act is incredibly strong, but the second act is where some of the pitfalls lie. Donald Sutherland’s villainous Attila is entertaining but cartoonish, a caricature of evil rather than a nuanced fascist figure. By making him so insane, the film slightly undermines its critique of fascism as a system, it starts to feel less like an exploration of how fascism enables oppression and more like a battle between two lunatic individuals (Attila and his equally deranged partner). The earlier scenes of peasant oppression, where servants are forced to work harder for less pay, feel far more effective than the later, more exaggerated moments of fascist cruelty.
Another misstep is the decision to open with a scene from the third act, before flashing back decades to build up to that moment. The problem is that this scene is the film’s climax, and it needed to be a surprise. Knowing its outcome diminishes much of the tension that could have been built. Similarly, despite its grand scale and sweeping narrative, there’s a surprising lack of truly tense moments. The film occasionally builds toward conflict but often de-escalates before reaching a real tipping point.
While 1900 has its excesses, its length isn’t one of them. The scope of the story justifies its length, and it stands as an immersive and compelling tale of friendship (break it down into two watches if needed!). It doesn’t quite belong in the same league as The Godfather or Once Upon a Time in America, but 1900 remains a fascinating, visually stunning epic that captures history in a way few films dare to attempt.