Based on renowned chemist Primo Levi's account of his long journey back to Italy after the liberation of Auschwitz in 1945, The Truce shows that the hardships of Jewish survivors didn't end with the war. The film opens with a powerful scene of Nazis abandoning the concentration camp, destroying evidence of their crimes, and needlessly slaughtering a few more prisoners before fleeing the Russians. Described by Levi as "lost, emptied, atrophied—unfit for our newfound liberty," the remaining Jews face a difficult, wayward path home, uncertain of whether their families or their faith can be restored. Told with undeniable conviction by 76-year-old Italian director Francesco Rosi (Christ Stopped At Eboli, Salvatore Giuliano), the last of the working Neo-Realists, The Truce may find the master casting only a shadow of his former self, but that's still a formidable shadow. Whenever hammy melodrama, forced whimsy, or speechifying threaten to do in the film, Rosi comes up with flashes of a grander vision, like graphic, documentary-like flashbacks of Auschwitz or a resiliently humane sequence set to Irving Berlin's "Cheek To Cheek." As Levi, John Turturro overcomes his contribution to the film's many wavering accents with a fiercely committed but emotionally restrained performance. Made at the twilight of Rosi's career, The Truce is clearly a labor of love for all involved, and their prevailing compassion makes it worthwhile despite its flaws.