Una giornata particolare

Previously I had seen many pairings of Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni--next to William Powell and Myrna Loy, this is my favourite cinematic coupling--but never any works by director Scola, so I wasn't really sure what to expect, especially with it being a period piece of Italy just before the Second World War. This was a masterpiece. I could talk all day about how excellent the two stars must have been, in order to completely subvert every preconception we have come to associate with their on-screen romantic partnership (namely, Loren portraying a shy, put-upon mother of six, and Mastroianni playing a suicidal gay man) AND so convincingly. As well, I heartily recommend viewers to watch all of the extras on The Criterion Collection's recent release--I loved Scola's statement (and I paraphrase): 'Humour is as much a part of life as everything else--If a writer has a chance to put a comedic incident in a realistic drama, he has a moral obligation to do so.' I will remember that--and hopefully utilize it in my own work, should I ever be so gifted as to work in the field that I love--for the rest of my days. I am surprised that it wasn't mentioned in any of the extras that Mastroianni was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actor for his performance here. That is extremely rare for a foreign-language film, and should instantly be a clue to you of the film's quality. In Loren's June 2015 interview, she stated it was her best work other than her Oscar-winning acting in 'Two Women'. She's absolutely spot-on--and still looking gorgeous today. Definitely worth a purchase and rewatching. It's one of the most poignant observations of loneliness I have yet seen. When Loren's Antonietta says to Mastroianni's Gabriele 'I love you just as you are', it really doesn't matter what eventually happens to either party--Gabriele has found unconditional love. There is truly nothing else worth having, not even life. It should have been called 'A Very Special Day', for it most certainly is, especially for the cinephile who watches it, even now. And I wouldn't be the least surprised if the film's re-release starts a surge of interest in scrapbooking, as Antonietta was so good at it, charting in an obsessive fashion the doings of her beloved Il Duce.

The first fifteen minutes or so of this film consists of a mini-documentary setting the scene as Adolf Hitler makes the train journey from Germany to meet with King Vittorio Emanuele III and Benito Mussolini in Rome to seal this friendship pact in 1938. The extensive archive footage is overlaid with a propagandist style of commentary that would have entirely fitted the cinema screenings at the time extolling the might of the Italian Empire and their new, invincible, allies. It's a grand celebration in Rome that the family of "Antonietta" (Sophia Loren) are to attend. Her husband "Emanuele" (John Vernon) takes their six children to the party whilst she remains at home attending to her chores. It's while they are away that she encounters her neighbour "Gabriele" (Marcello Mastroianni). Until recently he was an announcer on state radio but no longer. An intense few hours, and a mynah bird with a mind of it's own, sees us introduced in more depth to both characters and to discover why he is no longer on air, not at the parade and why she is less than contented with her drudge of a life. It's the intensity of the hour or so we spend in this couple's company that challenges many stereotypes of expected and tolerable behaviour in the 1930s - and not just in Italy either. The scripting is poignant and delivered sometimes calmly and then as if all hell were breaking lose - and Loren is on great form exploding the exasperation of "Antonietta" all over their apartment. The conclusion is to be expected - on just about every front - but as the audio continually reminds us of what the rest of the population are up to, the intimate story of these two, flawed, people is well told.