‘There’s Still Tomorrow’ or — A Triumph of Neo-Neorealism?
Rome, 1946. Delia, a mother and housewife, stoically looks after her three children, nurses her bed-ridden father-in-law and suffers the frequent beatings from her abusive husband. She pulls in a little money through various odd jobs and these, combined with her constant domestic chores in their grubby Fascist era built apartment, means she appears to have no life of her own.
When her daughter, Marcella, is proposed to by the son of a wealthy family Delia sees this as a chance for at least one her children to escape poverty, if these dreams aren’t shattered before they’ve even begun that is.
Sounds like a post-war, Italian neorealist drama from the likes of De Sica, Visconti or Rossellini, right? And it kinda is except ‘There’s Still Tomorrow’ was made in 2023 by the multi-talented Paola Cortellesi who co-wrote, directs and stars in the movie and uses the neorealist style and post-war setting to address issues of democracy, repression and systemic misogyny. The good news is the film is also touching, funny, gripping and uplifting.
Cortellesi’s Delia embodies not just Italy’s post-war working class housewife but also recalls the cinematic representations of these women such as Anna Magnani in ‘Bellissima’ (1951) or, and possibly more specifically, Sophia Loren in Ettore Scola’s ‘A Special Day’ (1977). This is a life of endless darning, cleaning, mending, fixing, cooking, serving, laddered tights, flat shoes and where the ubiquitous apron is always worn. These women keep the fabric of society from falling apart as much as their husband’s socks.
There are some sparks of life and light in Delia’s life such as the kindly American G.I. who notices her bruises and a former admirer, Nino the car mechanic, who still loves her and suggests they run away together. Is that what that piece of paper is she clutches so passionately? A love letter? Is this a glimmer of hope for Delia, one similar to her daughter’s? There’s a danger here because as soon as hope is introduced it automatically comes with the threat of it being destroyed, and that’s where the film generates its remarkable tension.
This might be Cortellesi’s greatest coup as she does an excellent job of gradually ratcheting this tension up to such levels you find yourself almost wanting to scream “Just get out NOW!” We know she’s planning some form of escape (she’s been squirreling away money for her daughter’s wedding dress but we suspect that’s a cover story) but Delia’s an expert at keeping her true intentions close to her chest so she might not be keeping secrets just from her husband but also from us, the audience, too.
Not only that but is it actually escape she’s looking for or another form of liberation? After all, if a man is her main problem then is another one the answer? Again, this increases the tension because although we desperately desire a new life for Delia we’re also fully aware that option was an impossibility for practically every other woman in her position back then, and escape into fantasy isn’t an option (it would break the strict neorealist rules).
When her intentions are finally revealed it’s extraordinarily satisfying, incredibly moving and with a message that’s as relevant today as any time in the past where thinking beyond one’s self leads to empowerment and unity. It’s sentimental but in exactly the right way.
‘There’s Always Tomorrow’ is absolutely wonderful and as a directorial debut extremely impressive as although Cortellesi uses neorealism and the social dramas by directors such as Pietro Germi and Giuseppe De Santis as her inspiration she never lapses into empty pastiche or attempts to slavishly mimic previous styles purely for show; her film remains firmly hers and furiously original throughout.
I loved this and, much like with Delia, I can’t wait to see what Cortellesi does next.
