M, 118 minutes

4 Stars

Review by © Jane Freebury

While the news of yesterday’s shock election results will be a slap in the face for many women, it’s a slap to the face first thing in the morning that is routine in this remarkable film. Yet, it was sensationally popular among its home audiences in Italy last year, an unusual result for a film in black-and-white, and one telling the story of a woman who is a victim of domestic violence.

On top of this, it is an audacious mash-up of different genres with drama and comedy intermingled. It even makes the distressing predicament of an abused wife and mother-of-three disconcertingly amusing sometimes, despite its disturbing themes. As the work of popular singer and comedienne Paola Cortellesi (who is the star, director and co-writer), this may not be surprising to those who know her.

The setting is Rome in 1946. Immediately post-war, a time when traditions were being ditched in favour of a new order. This also nests it historically in the era of Italian neorealism and draws on that cinematic movement’s efforts to tell life like it really was. The famous neorealist masterpiece by Roberto Rossellini, Rome, Open City, with its shoot on location, use of natural lighting and many non-professional actors, had already appeared in cinemas. Neorealism broke with the moribund traditions of melodramas that were set in wealthy households to focus on the many people, like the father and son in Vittorio De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves, who were struggling to subsist.

Unlike the neorealist masterpieces, this film has an exuberant, often intrusive original soundtrack that also features contemporary US-indie blues and electric jazz. It lightens the tonal register and is a reminder that intimate partner violence is not a thing of the past.

The action takes place in and around a city square, the kind of square that features in the excellent television series based on the Elena Ferrante best-sellers, My Brilliant Friend. I was often reminded of that Neapolitan community observing and gossiping about the lives of their neighbours as they shared the space.

In There’s Still Tomorrow, the use of space is similar. It’s not just his family who know what it means when Ivano (Valerio Mastandrea) closes door or shutters to show his wife Delia (Cortellesi) his disapproval.

A portrait of domestic abuse that I honestly thought was going to end in tragedy

It is heart-breaking becoming acquainted with Delia who has to submit to her husband’s insults (‘when she opens her mouth, words fall out’) and beatings. The standard excuse is that the poor man saw service in both wars. Delia also has to look after her bed-ridden father-in-law and her two young sons and teenage daughter Marcella, played by Romana Maggiora Vergano in a lovely performance. For Delia and Ivano, it’s a struggle to maintain their household, although there are some opportunities to earn some meagre money to help out.

The film’s first hour details Delia’s life. The brutal handling by her husband, the groping hands of her father-in-law, and an accommodation of it all that dismays her daughter. It is a pitiless portrait of domestic abuse, and I honestly thought it was going to end in tragedy.

It doesn’t. For those who are alert to the graffiti messages revealed on city walls as Davide Leone’s camera tracks backward and forwards on Delia’s trips out and about, they may get the sense that there are momentous social changes in the backstory. When it is finally clear there are huge developments underway, we are plucked from the brink.

Moreover, in another satisfying turn it becomes apparent that the life of daughter Marcella is unlikely to follow the same course as Delia and become a passive and servile wife. Who knew that she would be delivered of her fate as the exclusive property of Giulio (Francesco Centorame), a possessive young man likely to shape up as bad as her own father, and get help with her education? What a relief.

There’s Still Tomorrow appeared in Italian cinemas around the time that the violent murder of a young female student at the hands of her former boyfriend was in the news. Thousands attended services in her memory there late last year.

After this unusual and daring film gestures in one direction, it performs a clever about-turn that thoroughly confounds our expectations. It’s a great outcome, especially when done with the style and panache we see here.

First published in the Canberra Times on 8 November 2024.  Jane’s reviews are also published on Rotten Tomatoes