Renato De Maria’s film The Front Line could almost be called “Terrorism: A Love Story.” But such a provocative title would probably miss the point, and the love story is but one factor that makes this film so stimulating. The Front Line, or La Prima Linea as it’s called in its native Italian, is an engaging first person story that has the benefit of being true. It tells a personal story of love and commitment set against one of the most tumultuous times in modern Italian history, and it does so with an impersonal hand that kind of distances the viewer from the true emotion of the film. Still, there are a lot of interesting things boiling about the perimeter.

Based on Sergio Segio’s own book, The Front Line is a semi-fictionalized account of a leftist group that progressed from direct action to civil disobedience to assassination over the space of a ten year period in the 70s and 80s. Segio (Riccardo Scamarcio) and Susanna Ronconi (Giovanna Mezzogiorno) were two of Prima Linea’s most influential leaders, and meeting through the movement they ultimately fell in love. The Film Fest program calls them a “Marxist Bonnie and Clyde” which seems as apt a description as any for these two who were as dedicated to furthering their leftist ideals as they were to each other. After the assassination of well-loved public official, members of Prima Linea find themselves public enemy number one, and Ronconi is captured by the authorities. Much of the film is told in flashback as Segio and other members execute a jailbreak to free Ronconi and several others.

Caught between several plot-points, The Front Line can sometimes seem a little clinical and very matter of fact. Not knowing much about the intricacies of Italian political turmoil in its historical context isn’t much of an impairment and, in fact, the film is rather easy to follow along with amongst all the players both individually and grouped together. One of things I liked was discussion about how as Prima Linea got more hardline, they were losing the support of the very people they said they were fighting for. This is where the more clinical approach to the film by director De Maria seems to make things work for him: the ideas, the history, the politics. The very era itself seems to come back to startling life again as if these events were unfolding right this minute on the streets of Italy.

The performances are where things kind of come off the sprockets. At times, I could believe the love and commitment between Scamarcio and Mezzogiorno, but at other times they come across as zombies in their own lives. Scamarcio especially feels like he’s got a distance between himself and his character, staring blankly into space and talking about the power of his commitment while having a look in his eyes that says, “Dude, I’m so bored right now.” Sometimes he finds it and sometimes he doesn’t, and fortunately the film has so much ground to cover that often Scamarcio’s inattention passes you by and you can get on with the movie. His blank stare confessionals directly into the camera that narrates the movie are more creepy than committed though.

In the end, The Front Line is more of a mixed bag, but I liked more of the mix than I disliked the rest. Even if the personal, relationship stuff doesn’t work, there are more than enough potent and provocative plot-points and ideas to make this film worth seeing. We consider terrorism now to be so cut and dry; that it’s a tool of first resort for people that are just so unrepentantly evil that they’re not even worth acknowledging as prisoners in custody. The Front Line’s focus is the wisdom and warning that the road to hell is paved in good intentions and that people with the right ideals sometimes end up making some really bad choices despite any high-minded desire to do the right thing. That’s a powerful statement, and that’s why The Front Line ultimately works in the end.