‘The Magnificent Cuckold’ or — Is Ignorance Really Bliss?

Antonio Pietrangeli’s ‘Il Magnifico Cornuto’ (1964), or ‘The Magnificent Cuckold’ (and isn’t that just the most deliciously provocative title you’ve ever heard?), concerns wealthy business man Andrea Artusi (Ugo Tognazzi) as he gradually starts to mentally unravel after he obsesses over his wife’s perceived infidelity, something that’s somewhat understandable considering his wife, Maria Grazia, is the mind-bogglingly beautiful Claudia Cardinale and every single one of his friends is constantly hitting on her.

The thing is this idiot has absolutely nothing to worry about as Maria is as loving and faithful to her husband as can be, so she’s obviously baffled by his increasingly erratic behaviour. It just doesn’t make any sense.

Yet we know it makes perfect sense because it is Andrea himself who is the cheater having “allowed” himself to be seduced by the sexually aggressive wife of an acquaintance and when, after making love, Andrea blithely enquires of her why her husband hasn’t cottoned onto her infidelities she coolly responds that he’s utterly oblivious so she has nothing to worry about. Is it that easy for wives to pull the wool over their husbands’ eyes? Are men that stupid? Is that what Maria’s doing to him?!

So what we’re dealing with here is not a question of jealousy but that of guilt and how we project it onto others rather than take responsibility for our actions. And because Andrea is the guilty party it’s an absolute blast watching the poor fucker squirm, go bananas and drive himself insane, especially when he has nothing to worry about… apart from his own adultery that is.

Every man Andrea sees Maria talking to sends him into a paranoid fantasy world where he visualises the illicit sex they must be having which leads to some rather inventive dream sequences (you can easily imagine this film remade for Hollywood by Blake Edwards or Billy Wilder). For example — there’s a scene where Andrea and Maria are having a party so show off their newly built luxury home when Maria offers to show Andrea’s friends their wonderful new bedroom, and invitation they all eagerly accept, so we observe Andrea watching his wife leading a line of twelve men up the stairs and into their private boudoir. Needless to say, Andrea totally freaks out imagining what they must all be doing up there.

Another great moment is when he fires their gatekeeper (played by the comedically overly handsome Lando Buzzanca) for being too young and good-looking and, hence, a possible sexual threat so he replaces him with a toothless, shrivelled old man… who turns out to be a raging horn monster!

As you can see there’s plenty of scope for humour at Andrea’s expense, something that’s enhanced by some nice sound design provided by the musical score with an incessant clack of a woodblock representing the pathological ruminations of his overworking mind.

The film is also visually ravishing with some cinematography that’s as striking as Cardinale herself. This is full-on boom Italy so it’s dripping with modernist architecture, sexy automobiles and stunning costumes, and Pietrangeli and cinematographer Armando Nannuzzi show all this off with some seriously striking compositions and camera work (if you have a soft spot for black and white Italian cinema this’ll leave you drooling).

The only question I had was — how is this all going to end? Will this couple break-up? Will Maria herself have an affair? Will Andrea confess to his adultery and beg forgiveness? I can’t see that happening. After all, everything must be balanced out and accounts settled. But how? The answer is satisfying, funny and a nice lesson on how blaming others for our own transgressions always turns us into fools, whether we realise it or not.

‘The Magnificent Cuckold’ is sexy, stylish and packed with some great gags. Cardinale is, not surprisingly, a joy to watch but its Ugo Tognazzi who steals the show as the self-deceiving, paranoid, guilt-ridden Andrea who despite being an adulterous hypocrite never comes close to fully repulsing us, possibly because watching him frantically deal with a mess of his own making is such delightful fun.

But does he know we’re laughing at him? Maybe that’s the biggest joke of all.