Reviews

Spoilers

The film that supposedly presaged the decline of Carlo Verdone who, 'lost the plot,' with this one, Acqua E Sapone ('Soap and Water') is in fact, incredibly charming, weird, touching, realistic and absurd. It's a film that juxtaposes brutal realism against bizarre, hugely larger-than-life tableaux. The end result is a film that, like the best pop music, lingers inexplicably in the cortex.

Verdone plays an intelligent, handsome janitor – a man with an honors degree unable to find work in line with his qualifications. The film opens with Verdone tutoring immigrants from Africa and elsewhere on the finer points of high poetry. The scene is hysterically funny; though Verdone inquires at the end of a miserable lesson, (the immigrants aren't 'applying themselves'), 'when are you guys going to pay me?' Verdone tosses a paper airplane in the air and in a beautiful transition, jump cuts to a 747 arriving in Rome, bearing the gorgeous 'Sandy' (Natasha Hovey) a glamorous teenage model, her stroppy and over-protective mother and 'American' step Father. A press conference ensues at the airport; inane questions are asked of the young lady. One reporter finally asks if she feels more like a girl or a woman. Hovey, pulling off her sunglasses is revealed as annoyed and possessed of awesome looks. Bella Figura!

We next see Verdone's 'Rolando' at a convent school, waxing the floor; too much so in fact, causing a nun to slip. After apologies, Rolando begs of the nun to find a job in keeping with his academic credentials and a phone rings. 'The call comes to everyone in time,' the nun says, answer it – but she is referring only to the ringing phone, not to a job.

Verdone answers and it is glamorous Sandy's gofer, asking if the famous preacher, author and missionary, 'Padre Spinetti,' would be willing to teach her for an impressive fee. Rolando goes to seek out the good man; Spinetti is occupied leading choir practice, (a fetish for which resurfaces in Iris Blonde) and snaps at Verdone that he is not to be interrupted. 'Screw it,' figures Rolando, who goes back to the phone, affects an accent and in a moment of madness, impersonates Padre Spinetti and takes the call. And the job.

Later that night, in the gritty Roman apartment where Rolando lives with his outspoken Grandmother, the would be priest prepares to take another call to firm up the details of his teaching gig. We are introduced to his sex-obsessed neighbor, Fabrizio Bracconeri, who urges him to hurry up with the call, which is on a party line, as he has to fix a date with a 'Filipino girl with knockers like a Volkswagen.' Bracconeri, who sports a red perm, mustache, red sweatshirt and sweatpants, assures Rolando that red is very 'chic,' this season. The give and take, in Romanesque, the nasal dialect of Rome, between Rolando, Bracconeri and his Grandmother is brilliant – even Verdone's staunchest critics give him that.

Rolando gets his call after telling Grandma to pretend to be a secretary; she obliges but warns her Grandson that dire trouble will follow. … The call, during which Rolando tries to project priestly integrity, sees Grandma chases a stray Roman cat through her kitchen, swearing in the local tongue – marvelous.)

Rolando has purchased a priest's habit for the job but there again; grandmother has taken it to the drycleaners. Unfortunately the proprietor is dead and so is his business. Sneaking into the death chamber, Rolando notices another priest's jacket available and that the dead proprietor, being cried over by his widow, has pants that might work, too. Stealthfully, he removes the deceased's pants, snatches the jacket and steals away; causing his widow and other mourners to derive that the dead man not only moved, but 'took off his pants.'

Rolando meets Sandy for the first time the next day at her parent's villa – after stopping off for a fist fight. He bluffs his way through the interview (after all, he's 30 years too young to be Spinetti) with a beautiful set of nerves he keeps up throughout the film, whenever he is near Sandy's parents. Sandy steals a look at her 'teacher,' in classic adolescent style; beautifully done by the 16 year old Hovey.

Well, the obvious happens – Hovey falls for the 'priest,' and as quickly finds out – by rifling his belongings, that he is not a priest. She doesn't give him up of course, provided he let her leave her restrictive model's life of controlled diets, workouts, homework and television. And that's about it … that's her routine.

Verdone has really dovetailed every scene beautifully – even in an over-the-top comedy, the audience feels a twinge of 'guilt,' after all, this guy is impersonating a priest! Ah, but, recall, Rolando is also a genuinely gifted teacher with a master's degree and thus qualified to instruct the young lady.

The two go on a platonic tear – wreaking havoc at a bowling alley, abandoning diets and rules, eating too many custards at a Roman pastry shop (where Verdone calls Eve, 'a damn whore,' when his pastry, his third in five minutes, bursts and soils his habit) it's an hilarious whirlwind. As the film is on location, Verdone wrings even more bang for buck (or Lira) by shooting almost exclusively on location. Rome is a wonderful co-star.

In the midst of the growing attraction 'tween priest and super-babe, are sandwiched several more scenes featuring Verdone and Bracconeri's very funny interaction. In addition to the interest as a thumbnail of Roman life, these scenes are just about Roberto Begnini-level hilarious; in other words, 'the funniest thing I've ever seen,' type of funny.

Inevitably, Sandy makes a pass at Verdone, and has chosen a drive-in theater as the place to cease being a virgin. Verdone's Rolando's crushing self-doubt, (loathing?) overwhelms him and when Sandy's drive-in moment comes, his libido fails him.

Rolando drives Sandy home and reminds her that the pair must henceforth, attend to studies; after all he's to be paid at the end of the week. As he helps her over a wall bordering her parent's massive estate, she promises to be good. Skipping away in glee however, Rolando is intercepted by Sandy's furious parents and the real Padre Spinetti. Told but for the scandal, he'd be jailed, Rolando is told to split and stay split. His car won't start and Rolando must sprint down the street in best 80's casual style; Ben Sherman and Levis 501s.

Rolando arrives home, to considerable agro from Grandma. Doorbell rings; Sandy suddenly arrives- she's just left a midnight modeling shoot in the heart of ancient Rome (which we, the audience see). No romance between the two, because by the time Rolando has gotten the required bottle of whiskey from Bracconeri, Sandy's fast asleep.

The next day, Rolando concocts an absurd story to get Grandma out of the way; telling her that her medical reports look ghastly. He loads her in a cab and tells her to have courage – but as the cab pulls off for a hospital, she tells the driver that her grandson, 'has a young lady he wants to be alone with.' No fooling a Roman Grandma.

Rolando keeps telling Sandy she's too young for sex, and she repeatedly explodes, finally going to Bracconeri's apartment in frustration. As Rolando had lied earlier and told Bracconeri that he'd scored with the girl three times and 'secundo was the best of the three,' Bracconeri thinks she's some sort of bed hopper and can't credit his luck! He too is revealed as a lonely guy who – though he's with a lot of girls in the flick, is never with them.

Rolando, imagining the worst, goes to Bracconeri's crib to get Sandy back and the two swap painful punches. Back at Grandma's flat, Sandy applies antiseptic to his wounds; and the grand passion is finally consummated, which Rolando puts at 25 minutes duration; Sandy more like 'three minutes from the moment he turned out the light.' As the two lie in the sack, Sandy's parents are of course, frantically trying to find their daughter from the records of the convent where Rolando had been employed as a janitor.

In a beautiful scene, Rolando promises Sandy that he, while a 'nobody,' has great strength and will ask for her hand formally, from her mother. As Verdone drifts in and out of sleep, Sandy tearfully steals away – simply wonderful acting.

We see Sandy walking aimlessly along the Tiber, when suddenly her family finds her and mother and daughter are reunited – as friends, rather than as exploitive Mom and Model.

As for Rolando …

There is always a P.S. in Italian films, it seems. (Even when the protagonist dies, life goes on!) Rolando returns to a field and watches planes landing a Fummicino airport … the field where once he and Sandy lay … and were shat on by birds … In this field, Sandy told Rolando of her dream man, as welling as telling Rolando, who inquired how HE measured up, that she liked his 'fat face,' most. She also said he needed a woman who would mother him. As the smash hit theme song comes up, (Fabio Liberatori put together a great score for this film – and still owes me a tape!) Rolando dances with three buddies who don't know the meaning of the field and ask why he keeps coming? They are hungry. And Rolando agrees; time to eat - his physic healing is complete.

** While certainly not among the titans of Italian directors, Verdone is rather, a lesser Roman poet - no Martial or Horace he, but one of the countless minor poets from whom we mortals actually derive much of our daily pleasure. Acqua E Sapone means 'soap and water' 'a woman who know the ropes.' As Sandy eventually did come to know them … Knowing the meaning of this expression prior to viewing will make the film all the more enjoyable as it is laden with irony – Sandy and Rolando both barely know the ropes, for their separate reasons.

Finally, I loaned this film to an American chum who could not see beyond the absurdist trappings and disliked it. Whereas a Brazilian, landlocked in the States, loved it, 'got it,' but felt that it was in fact a tragedy. As in a sense, I guess it is.

Summer

Iris Blonde (This review contains a spoiler)

Carlo Verdone's best work is behind him – so say Italians and yet, if the likes of Iris Blonde are his worst, then his worst is better by far, than most films being made today. Unfortunately, only one other of Verdone's movies, the fantastic, Acqua E Sapone, has been released in the USA and the man has made a ton of films. What a pity that we shan't see them. As in the former, Verdone co-wrote, directed and starred in Iris Blonde.

Iris Blonde got pretty impressive reviews in the United States, including the New York Times but it is a very European film – with all that implies. If that ain't your bag, skip review and film.

Iris Blonde is the classic story of out-of-luck-in-love fellow being so emotionally desperate for that commodity that he hooks up with an inappropriate someone who, 'sees him coming,' and takes advantage of him. The film's style is best described perhaps as, 'Reality with absurdist trappings as rendered through the lens of one very pithy Italian observer of the human condition.'

Verdone spoon feeds his character, 'Romeo Spero's' vulnerability to us, his audience, in the opening scene. Spero is a pianist/composer specializing in 'popular sounds' for the band he leads, High Definition. Spero learns that his fiancée is having an affair and is leaving him. Tearfully, this woman (who artfully is never shown, we only hear her voice) informs Spero that, if he ever has a grand passion – and 'someday he will'- he'll understand. Equally humiliating, the male member who cuckolded Spero says he promises that he won't touch the music that 'you wrote for us.' Every time Spero tries to speak he is interrupted, likewise Spero is unable to light a cigarette; the hand of the man cuckolding lights it for him. As the pounding, Euro-Pop soundtrack is brought up, we realize already, that Spero is one of life's unlucky and that the winners in life realize this and take advantage of it. This is artfully conveyed by inattentive listeners and the inability to 'strike a flame' with females – throughout the film.

A year later, Spero visits a Neapolitan fortune teller who assures him that cards can't lie and that they say he will meet a woman with the name of a flower. This fateful rendezvous will 'bring' money and romance. This scene is particularly hilarious.

A full six months later and we find Spero shipboard in his role of bored pianist in charge of the standard 'cruise repertoire.' (It is my understanding that Verdone, a fine multi-instrumentalist, plays his own instrumental parts in Iris Blonde.) Romeo's deft touch on the piano forte attracts the attention of veteran one Marguerite of Belgium a past it, 50- Something who is both a singer of the Jacque Brel cannon and a gal hot for the rather handsome Spero/Verdone. She does have a flower name, as well – is this The Prophecy of Naples? They hook up and we come to see that - lurking just below the surface of a ribald or even farcical comedy - is a rather grand insight into the scheme of things, in the Italian manner: 'Love' – convenient, passionate, mature or otherwise – is revealed as a very fickle mistress.

Well into his forties, Spero and Marguerite commence a relationship of convenience and Spero is quickly miserable with the package: Marguerite's absurd French Poodle, her insistence at being 'a little girl,' her enormous sexual appetite which is about security and not sex – while often hysterically funny, Verdone is on about much more serious matters, indeed.

After one particularly galling night with Marguerite, Spero offers to walk the poodle and meets the tres-sexy Iris Blonde at the fast food restaurant where she works. Blonde is a fast talking, gum chewing, cigarette-smoking user from the word go: She smokes one of Spero's cigarettes, eats part of his desert and asks if she can keep his lighter. She also says that while of Roman distraction, she chose to live here in Belgium with her father, who apparently always swore at her, a not insignificant point. In the midst of these declarations she gets a call on the house phone from a boyfriend whom she tells she has hepatitis, much to Spero's chagrin. She is not, of course, infected and convinces Spero to give up his cute lighter before running off into the night when her date arrives in a flashy sports car. Upon leaving the joint, Spero sees her name tag, 'Iris,' another flower and part of the fortune-teller's prophecy.

Smitten, Spero returns next day to the hamburger joint with flowers and is told that Blonde is at the famous Charleroi cathedral; Iris is a classically trained singer. Spero hot foots it, again with the poodle in tow, to Charleroi, where in absurd voice-over Blonde 'sings' beautiful motets. (Verdone has a thing about choirs; he has a similar absurd choir in Acqua E Sapone and is making some statement lost on me. Amusing, though.)

The poodle breaks free from Romeo's grasp and the snooty choirmaster (a priest) calls Blonde and her singing 'slut-like,' which causes her to remind him that while he lays Blonde, despite being married, he is jealous of her freedom. She storms from the cathedral, Spero and fully dressed poodle, in tow. (The girl at the hamburger joint who had told Spero of Blonde's choral work has a damaged eye and Spero does an impression of the unfortunate young lady to amuse Blonde which is gut-wrenching and cruel – but very European. Iris, in fact, can't get enough of it.)

The two retreat to a café where the latter tells Spero she is a poet and reads a minor, if not bad, work from her cannon. Spero finds it very good indeed and informs her that he is a composer specializing in 'modern sounds' and he has a hunch that a partnership with Blonde will result in great things. He Spero, will pay for the expense of setting Blonde's words to his music, of course. What can Blonde - a 25 year old nymphomaniac of dubious character say but, 'yes,' to such an offer? Yet another flame arrives at the coffee shop and she insists Spero kiss her so the flame won't see her. He obliges.

The next two scenes comprise Spero's break up with Margauarite, the 50-something Bruel interpreting, girlfriend. Like so many Italian comedies, these scenes are whimsical in the extreme – or perhaps jarring, to American sensibilities. Much or all of the preceding scenes are realistic – they could have happened – whereas these two break-up scenes are completely improbable fluff – and very funny indeed. This is not because, as is the case with many American films, the director simply lost control of the film's 'tone,' like a late-model Pacino film, wherein Al lurches from character to character, leaving you scratching your head. Rather, it is as if Verdone said, 'Right, let's inject a whimsical scene here.' And, in his hands, it works.

The result is that Verdone is invited by Blonde to move into her flat, which he does. On his very first evening, Blonde beds a male visitor and next morning, she informs Spero, that henceforth, the two must be completely and inseparably, unified: They will compose, rehearse, record. Period. And, she adds, it is agreed they must, never, EVER … 'fuck.' Spero, crestfallen agrees. … Phone rings – it's yet another Iris Blonde boy friend. Spero sees the handwriting: the ultra-sexy Blonde, is a good-time, (if intelligent) nymphomaniac, who, recognizing both Spero's talent as well as his essential weakness is going to let him make THEM, famous. In the classic pattern of male denial of the obvious, Romeo Spero agrees to such a Faustian pact.

Romeo and Blonde set about recording her words, his tunes and while this movie earned excellent reviews, many hated the music. The New York Times, on the other hand, singled it out. I fall in the latter camp. It's great and vastly better than the most stuff on the airwaves that passes for Pop these days. Germini's (Iris) displays her perfect French, before the pair decides that French ain't a rockin' language and opt for English. Germini sings her own parts with aplomb.

In a rehearsal studio the studio's real strange owners are impressed enough with the pair to offer them a spot at a nightclub on a slow night – just as real clubs do. The pair are excited, perhaps overly so.

The next few scenes show the evolution of the act, Iris Blonde and the Freezer,' and are simply hysterical. You could hate every other scene in the film, but you would have to concede, these scenes are funny. A name is needed; discarded candidates include Iris Kiss, ('sounds like a prostitute,') to Romeo and Juliet. A new name deserves a new look and Blonde dresses and shaves n' styles her partner and even decrees that Romeo's testosterone, must 'only show in the corner of the eyes.' Blonde cuts and dyes her own golden tresses auburn and looks as a brunette, more Italian than the Italians. Finally, the duo repair to a church that the Lord might smile on their act; they light candles and Iris, probably lying, tells Romeo, that perhaps they can make their act work, off-stage.

Romeo lights an additional candle and tells Blonde she'll figure it out one day – I still haven't and it was obviously important...

The pair arrives late for their first gig- the screaming from the promoter an accurate rendering of the Belgique-Francais temper and quite amusing to this son of a Frenchman. But … their act is a smash: Genuinely great, driving pop music with Germini singing and dancing incredibly, while Verdone handles the keyboards and guitar with aplomb.

A handsome promoter sends a gofer to Germini after a particularly scintillating show and she returns to tell Romeo the bad news: Their celebratory evening is off; the promoter only wants to see her, which precipitates the predictable shouting fall-out. Romeo, on the other hand, goes to their planned dinner, solo, 'not like a suicide,' as Blonde suggests, but because it's dignified. Blonde infers that she will negotiate for the both of them and hey presto! off they go in their separate ways.

Her early A.M. appointment takes place in what is apparently Brussels's must luxurious hotel and the handsome promoter immediately puts drops in her drinks but wait! No, he's not trying to drug Blonde, because his 'boyfriend' helps him lift the glass to his lips - the drops are for him. Prior to dejuener, Blonde calls Spero at his restaurant and the latter relays to his fellow diners, in an hilarious bit, what Blonde might be up to: 'Gay, orgy, late night in a hotel,' all out of context of course, but what must the restaurant's patrons make of it? Very funny indeed.

Spero repairs to his hotel with a bottle of champagne and waits for Iris. Verdone's total mastery (and ever-evolving) plastic control of facial expressions is incredible. The miserable look as he waits in the semi-dark, his champagne growing ever-warm, a look eight parts misery, two parts hope against hope, is a real triumph. Blonde returns and gives him what he perhaps thinks is something she's been 'saving,' they go at it, with some pretty passionate sesso, tastefully done and well within the 'R' rating. (Imagine the surprise, mine included, of parents, fans of the innocuous Aqua E Sapone, who rented Iris Blonde expecting same, yet who found a much more adult film.)

Comes the morning and both have something to say to the other from the conjugal bed. He: 'I love you,' She: 'The promoters are only interested in me, you don't interest them.' When the shock subsides, Spero goes berserk and begins totaling the cost of their 'relationship,' broken beds – hers, sanitary napkins – hers, it's all very painful, funny and true to life. Just as Verdone had earlier, jacked the film into the realm of whimsy, he now startles us by wrenching it, gut-wrenching– back into the realm of all-too real life.

Iris departs to be a 25 year old star – with her 'whole life ahead' of her. Romeo in the film's most stunning scenes departs for a bench in a Belgian park near you. Verdone's destroyed Romeo, in strange bum's clothes, and heavy shadow on jowls, munching a poor boy sandwich – belissimo! Anyone who has 'been there,' that is, chased the approval of a someone merely using you all along, can relate to these scenes … including the inevitable 'revenge' fantasy sequence where Iris appears in white, singing their music and Verdone, dressed as a Mafioso, opens fire …

Iris owes Romeo about 10 grand in our money and the latter locates Iris's transplanted Roman Dad in an industrial outskirt. This and the following scene do fail, to a degree which renders this film merely 'good' when it could have been great. Unlike Acqua E Sapone (which incredibly has a similar theme 13 years earlier) with its perfect psychological resolution, Verdone – like writers since the Romans - takes the easy route; makes a quick stab at the little detail of 'motive,' and then says, 'nah,' and attempts to cover whole thing up with humor.

The 'Iris Dad' scene starts promisingly enough. The Dad is a loud, yelling, person with a younger subservient wife. Didn't Iris say, upon meeting Romeo way back at the fast food joint that her Dad was a shouter? She did. Isn't her Dad with a hot, far-too-young nubile? He is. Doesn't her Dad ignore (it's as bad as a clerk in the Bay Area) Romeo's repeated protests that he REALLY needs the money Iris owes him. Yes. So, it's quite obvious (there's even a photo of a young, coy Iris in a Bikini) what happened and extremely plausible: … That a yelling, disinterested father, a libertine to boot, would grow such a daughter. Points taken. However, even for European audiences, the hints are far too subtle.

Iris's Dad recognizes Spero from the early 70's when Spero wrote (supposedly) 'Pretty Without Make-up.' He has no answer for his financial straights and Spero readies to leave in anger. Amazingly, the Father talks Spero not only into staying for coffee but appearing at an 'All-Italian night' for that community in Belgium. This is an amazing scene, but again, it's far-too-subtle for one to suss that Romeo is easily overpowered by suggestion (which in turn harkens to the fortune teller) and that just like Daddy, Iris has mastered the art of preying on the weak. Romeo does turn up to play his hits while backing the famed, Mino Reitano, a beloved Italian stylist. (Though hilariously, he's forgotten the chords.) He splits abruptly.

Romeo returns home in time to just miss Iris's guilty-conscience phone message. She mentions she's leaving for Paris the following early A.M.

Romeo finds Iris at the Station in the restaurant with a brutally short haircut and strange make-up. She belatedly pays him; he tears up the check (fool). Romeo asks if she wouldn't like him to declare, 'go get em,' baby,' 'knock em' dead' as she progresses in her career and she says, yes, that's exactly what he should do.

Romeo sees Iris her to her train where she begs he accompany her to Paris – after confessing that her new group has changed the lyrics to the songs the two composed. Iris says to come with her, she can't make it alone, but Romeo isn't going to be a gofer and declines. He entreats her to change her mind and turns his back to do his Jacqueline, (the girl with the damaged eye) one final time, but it doesn't do the trick, and the Eurostar (or predecessor) glides silently out of the station. In the epilogue, Romeo has survived as The Freezer and Verdone sings the final song of loss, with incredible skill.

Iris Blonde succeeds in being a fine and hilarious film but fails in its grander aim – detailing the human habit of pursuing the unobtainable. This is because the incredible depth of psychological insight Verdone applies can and does gets lost in a vehicle of such modest scope. Not because the vehicle is in any way, a bad car, but you don't generally drive diplomats about in Ford Fiestas! In all, a memorable entertainment.

Summer 2004

An amusing, verging on wonderful film movie that is unfortunately compromised by the dub; Loren speaks perfect English and Mastroianni - whose beautiful voice is a star turn in itself, knew enough to acquit himself. Instead we get some pretty unconvincing American Speakers.

Adelina of Naples. This segment of the film is a fictionalized take on true events 10 years earlier. Lauren is the principal breadwinner for her family, selling black market cigarettes and committing other illegal acts to make ends meet. To avoid jail, she merely need remain pregnant which her semi-employed husband Carmine (Mastroianni), is expected to chip in with. The rub however, is that the shoe factory next door has, for several years, kept the poor man awake so that after 8 or so other siblings, he simply is not the race horse he used to be. Chastised by his wife for his weakness, Mastroianni despairs while Adelina (almost) produces number nine with Carmine's best friend; luckily nothing happens.

Lauren's luck and the appeal processes are eventually exhausted, Adelina does go to a jail that better frankly, than the average Motel 6. Carmine, in the mean time, contacts the press and the Pope, really everyone, and finally, Sophia is sprung. During her internment, Mastroianni apparently recovers his strength and the movie ends with the certainties that he 'got his thang back,' and that, at least to 1963 eyes, things in Naples would never change.

At the time the movie was lauded for its unsubtle criticism of the Catholic Church's birth control policies, policies, which it was reasoned, contributed to high birth rates, poverty, apathy and - laziness of Naples. Arguably the best segment of the movie and by far the longest.

Anna Of Milan

The weakest of the three segments, though not without charm. This segment basically has no plot whatsoever. Sophia Lauren is Anna, a rich, bored woman who has married an industrialist and has time and amore to spare, especially as her rich husband travels. A lot.

Mastroianni plays Renzo ,a writer with a curious haircut and a raincoat, a man appalled by Lauren's focus on money, yet still a man! Come on; we're talking Sophia Lauren..

One fine Sunday, the pair travel to the country in her new Rolls (this episode is almost a commercial for that particular brand) Renzo passing the time chiding Anna for her materialism in between bouts of desire. Lauren insists that she wants to go somewhere, anywhere to get away from all 'this.' Really she insists, she could give up money at any time and as a token of her good faith on this point - allows Mastroianni to drive.

Eventually, overwhelmed by so much woman and horsepower, Renzo crashes, almost killing a child selling flowers on the roadside. The Rolls' in flames, Anna flips out, her only concern the car, she even insists that use HIS clothes to douse the flames!

Returned to her senses by the crash, Anna shows through her anger that her true love is the Lira, especially when she rides off into the Milanese sunset with another swinger - a short guy in a Lancia. The Rolls abandoned for repairs on the roadside, Renzo buys some flowers from the almost run-over little flower peddler who asks if it's 'really a Rolls?'

The day's stock results are announced on the Roll's radio as Mastroianni walks bemusedly out of camera, (very effective shot) discarding the flowers on the roadside. While too obvious - 'money is the poison of today,' the curious scenery and some fine acting, make this episode enjoyable, if lightweight.

Mara Of Rome

This famous episode stars Lauren as Mara, an upscale hooker and is frankly, hilarious and a treat for the eyes. What incredibly beautiful cinematography this episode employs!

There are two themes in this episode: Mastroianni's 'Rusconi,' son of a wealthy industrialist from Bologna is wild about Mara - and the camera by the way is wild about Mastroianni, who is murderously handsome. Unfortunately, something always arises to interrupt his love - especially the second theme, namely: The crush on Mara of her shy young neighbor, a gorgeous young man being sent to a seminary by his tiny little grandparents who seem to want him there for his own good and just maybe, their own finances.

One comic turn after another arises to prevent Rusconi's union with Mara; on one occasion, hounded on the phone by his Father in Bologna, Rusconi insists, that he is 'not an idiot,' and then reminds his Dad that you have to 'bribe the minister, first. That's why it is called a bribe.' Showing great capacity as a comic actor on a level with his dramatic turns, Mastroianni really puts the 'S' in star power and is hilariously funny.

Tired of the 'what next?' Mastroianni swears off Mara and says he is leaving forever. In the meantime, the self-righteous Grandma next door accuses Mara of being a common whore and home-wrecker who is ruining her young man and promises to evict her. (In reality, it was the shy young man who made a Roman roof top approach, asking Lauren if she would go to the beach with him; she is non-committal.)

Enraged by the Grandma, Lauren fires back: How can anyone judge HER - after all, she is very choosy about the men she sleeps with.

Mastroianni returns - duh! Stating that he kept thinking about Mara. Finally the young man's affairs are sorted - (poor Rusconi forced into action as peacekeeper) and neighborly relations, restored. As a reward, Lauren performs a very famous (and rather tame, in fact) strip tease for Rusconi, whose by-now ruined nervous system leads to a series of hilarious faces. About to dish out the REAL reward, however, Lauren recalls she has made a vow of chastity for 'just two weeks'.

This segment, while perhaps overtly addressing hypocrisy (the grandparent's) is in my opinion, really about nothing but fine acting, gorgeous faces and glorious Rome. A great moment in Cinema, and by far my favorite segment.