In the two decades after World War II, so many great films came out of Italy that only a handful of names – De Sica, Rossellini, Fellini, Visconti, Antonioni – immediately evoke the power of the era, from masterpieces of sincere humanism (“Bicycle Thieves” , “La Strada”) to breathtaking epics (“8 ½”, “L’Avventura”).
But right next to it in the 1950s and 1960s, and a direct outgrowth of neorealism, was the Commedia all’italiana Hits – satires and sex comedies that shattered Italy’s morale as the country collided with a vibrant new capitalism and major political changes. Mix the theater of a kind of comedy with contemporary situations that made for a spicy cocktail of laughter and sorrow, and one of his maestri was Dino Risi (“Il Sorpasso”, “I Mostri”), perhaps most famous for his Oscar-nominated “Profumo di Donna” ( remake as “Smell of a Woman”). But his 1961 film Una Vita Difficile – one of his more Wilder-esque films – was never released in the US. This has now been rectified with a 4K restoration by classic car specialist Rialto Pictures.
Not a year is too late to enjoy this tearful love story between a self-obsessed resistance veteran, played by Alberto Sordi, and Lea Massari’s wartime wife. the former withdrew from the fight against the fascists to protect its ideals from corruption, the latter wants to breathe a sigh of relief in Italy’s economic miracle.
It’s a battle of wills and compromise across 17 years of Italian history, set in the fast-paced altercations, the story of Rodolfo Sonegos, the level-headed vitality of Risi’s acting, and the spirited, hard-hitting performances of Sordi (famous for ‘mafiosi’). “) anchor. and a Commedia all’italiana mainstay) and Massari (fresh from “L’Avventura”).
Your love is not faked In iron, but by an iron used by Elena (Massari), a hotel worker on Lake Como, to kill a German soldier who is about to shoot Silvio (Sordi), a Roman journalist and partisan fighter. After spending three months as lovers in her grandparents’ old mill, Silvio tries without delay to rejoin his comrades, but a year later – with the war over – he finds himself back in the Lombardy region, on behalf of his small, underfunded leftist newspaper. Putting aside her pain, Elena agrees to move to Rome with her impassioned radical, even though his meager income barely matches the rosy picture of city life he has painted.
What follows is a series of joys and misfortunes, sabotage and sacrifices that make the roots of this marriage (which produces a son) something of a wild ride and a cunning parallel for a country that balances its needs and wants. Enough post-war history is mentioned for this restored version to begin with a list of named events and dates. But even without that timeline information, the social tensions underlying everything in “Una Vita Difficile” are perfectly understandable, as in a hilarious scene where money-poor, hungry Silvio and Elena are unexpectedly invited to join nervous, eccentric aristocrats for dinner with Italy’s national referendum on whether or not to leave the monarchy and become a republic. It’s an awkward banquet worthy of a classic silent comedy.
Sordi had clearly built a boyish cup for amusement, and it fits Massari’s coiled portrait of uxoral frustration well. In the final scene, completely silly and serious as the conclusion to Silvio’s absurd attempt to humiliate himself for the sake of his family, it is her face that one focuses on, as the title of the film confirms. But it’s Silvio’s hapless, charity-driven arrogance that makes Sordi’s masterpiece and maximizes Risi’s cunning confidence that a fixed camera will bring much funny, poignant and gruesome life to life for talented actors.
Cinema doesn’t suffer from calls to the great Italian stylists of the grotesque and/or gloomy, but we can also see more descendants of Risi’s strong belief in the alchemy of well-timed long takes, medium takes and real close-up world shots to simple, reveal lasting and bittersweet truths about people.
Source: LA Times