Vittorio De Sica’s 1970 The Garden of the Finzi-Continis (Il giardino dei Finzi Contini) is a powerful World War II drama following two upper-class Jewish families as the persecution from their city and country steadily grows, leaving only their homes and each other as refuge against the looming horrors.

Starting in 1938 Ferrara, a well-to-do circle of Jewish families and friends make do, best as possible, amid the rise of fascism and anti-semitic policy. The wealthy Finzi-Contini family, with children Micòl and Alberto, stop going into town altogether, and remain within the walls of their grand estate, opening their home and tennis court up to others, after Jewish members are banned from the city club. They sense the looming danger, but choose to avoid the persecution out in the world by instead staying home.

Among their friends is Giorgio, who is smitten with Micòl. Giorgio’s upper middle-class family is a level lower than the Finzi-Continis, but even in their station his father Beniamino sees a mode of upward mobility: embedding themselves and making good among the fascist elite to earn their graces. Giorgio, a university student, can’t stand his father’s stance to comply rather than resist, in the face of an increasingly dire situation, as Jews are banned from his university’s library and engaging in public life.

With a chilling tone, The Garden of the Finzi-Continis portrays not only how victims’ reactions varied – from resistance, to avoidance, to compliance – but also the creeping normalization of repression growing more and more, until it’s too late. Each additional policy of persecution and anti-semitism is one deeper level, accepted and carried out across levels of power and institution.

The lack of active action by the Finzi-Contini family may be a repression of fear, or willful ignorance, but they hardly react to what’s happening in the world, playing content as long as the walls of their home remain safe. The sensory environment of their home is presented with overall haziness, a disconnect from reality heightened stylistically through lens flares, soft focus, and lush, dreamy music. Their home is so comfortable, the gardens so lush, they can lose themselves in their hideaway and ignore what’s happening outside their stone walls.

Reality eventually knocks in though, and the atmosphere completely shifts tonally from colorful greens and lush orchestrations to drab, pale colors, and cold, hollow sounds of footsteps shuffling through hallways, edging closer to the impending horrors. In a sharp, unsettling callback, the camera returns to the Finzi-Continis’ estate, a final memory of happier days playing tennis, safe from the outside world within their refuge, however temporary.