There's Still Tomorrow (C'è Ancora Domani)
In what is undoubtedly a great year for box offices all over the world, in no small part thanks to the “Barbenheimer” phenomenon, Italian cinemas were taken by storm by a somewhat unforeseen third contender. The directorial debut of beloved actress Paola Cortellesi, C’è Ancora Domani (translated into English as There’s Still Tomorrow), quickly won over audiences all over the country, registering enthusiastic support from public and critics alike and becoming the most-watched film of the year, out-earning even box-office-darling Barbie. With the film now heading north to cinemas in the UK and Ireland, one might wonder what all the fuss is about.
Delia (Paola Cortellesi) lives in 1946 Rome with her short-tempered, violent husband Ivano (Valerio Mastandrea), their three children and her bedridden father-in-law. Stuck in an endless cycle of housework, odd jobs to bring home some much-needed money, and a spectrum of daily violence, Delia finds solace in her friendship with Marisa (Emanuela Fanelli) and in hoping for a better future for her daughter Marcella (Romana Maggiora Vergano) following her engagement to a young man from a bourgeois family. As the city of Rome – and the entire country – around her prepare for a historic engagement, Delia’s daily life might just be turned upside down by a momentous letter.
In the light yet deeply reflective style that characterizes much of Cortellesi’s work, C’è Ancora Domani delivers a sharp and crystal-clear portrait of life in post-war Italy, while abstracting universal and still relevant issues of gender-based discriminations and violence in all its forms, from the most blatant to the most subtle and near invisible. The use of black and white juxtaposed with anachronistic music choices serves as a reminder that bygones are not necessarily bygones for many women in Italy and all around the world, creating a powerful connection between the film and its audience, its message resonating loud and clear. Delia’s resilience becomes resistance when, much like Cinderella and the invitation to the royal ball, a letter recognizes her individuality: it empowers her to challenge her role as wife and mother, to start dreaming of a better future not only for herself but for everyone.
In a city that is still reeling from the aftermath of war but is determined to move forward, tensions and recriminations abound yet are hidden away in an attempt to forget the past and start living again. Against the background is the referendum of 2nd June 1946, the first held by universal suffrage, which marked the birth of the Italian Republic and brought almost 90% of Italians to the ballot box. Through the lens of Delia’s individual experience, Cortellesi manages to bring into focus the hardships and the contradictions, but also the joy and solidarity that can be found on a communal level to reaffirm that, as an old slogan used to say, the personal is political.
If a criticism can be levied at the film, it is that of doing too much at the same time: in its attempt to tackle several different issues while balancing levity and reflexivity, C’è Ancora Domani opens up to too many subplots, some of which are simply too far-fetched and unrealistic, adding little of value to an already full plate. Some of the directorial choices, though bold, can come across as clumsy, drawing away somewhat from the intended effect and diminishing their emotional impact (such as, for example, in the attempt to depict a scene of domestic violence as a dance).
Still, the masterful build-up of tension, the exquisite performances and character development showcasing the wide range of female relationships, and its universal value make C’è Ancora Domani a gripping and deeply touching film, and indicate Paola Cortellesi not only as a great actress but as a promising new director.