Natalie D.C.
A theatrical ode to neorealism, Italian actress Paola Cortellesi’s directorial debut There’s Still Tomorrow follows one working-class housewife’s journey towards a better future in 1940s Italy.
Premiering at the Rome Film Festival in 2023 (taking home three awards including Progressive Cinema Award, Audience Award, and Best First Feature Award) and slated for release in select U.S. theaters March 7, There’s Still Tomorrow is a dramedy that tells the story of Delia (Paola Cortellesi), an overworked woman living in Rome a year after the end of World War II with her abusive husband Ivano (Valerio Mastandrea), teenage daughter Marcella (Romana Maggiora Vergano), two rambunctious sons, and ailing father-in-law (Giorgio Colangeli) who finds hope after receiving a mysterious letter. The story was co-written by director and star Cortellesi who was inspired by the various experiences of her grandmother and great-grandmother in addition to her half-Roman lineage.
From the beginning, the film establishes its whimsical nature with a choreographed dance scene of the unhappy married couple waking up in the morning, a sharp juxtaposition against its black-and-white homage to Italian neorealism, a film movement dedicated to telling the stories of poor and working-class Italians post-World War II. Despite its grim subject matter—most prominently, domestic abuse—There’s Still Tomorrow uses music and dance to imbue a sense of hope in a story known all-too-well by one in three Italian women.
While the soundtrack’s sheer variety of music genres–from classic to indie blues to rap–may be baffling upon first watch, this creative decision cleverly parallels Delia’s emotional journey as she moves into a more modern era of both Italian democracy and global women’s suffrage. Music (its presence as well as its absence) transforms each scene, either providing a theatrical spin to otherwise heart-wrenching depictions of abuse or grounding the viewer in the quiet of Delia’s tense home and working-class neighborhood.
Delia’s path from denial of her dangerous home life to acceptance unfolds like a play. The letter that she receives at the beginning of the story is only a precursor for what’s to come. After her daughter Marcella is engaged to a boy from a wealthy family, Delia sees her past (from gullible lover to abused wife) in her daughter’s future which not only makes her see her own present more clearly, but also inspires her to take action, for her daughter as well as for her own well-being.
Not only is There’s Still Tomorrow’s music symbolic and screenplay incredibly well-written (just ask the Italian Academy Awards!), its actors’ performances quite literally make the film. Paola Cortellesi is a brilliant Delia, transforming this housewife juggling three children, multiple jobs, friends to meet, a house to keep, and a never-satisfied husband into a fully fleshed-out woman with hopes, dreams, and aspirations for a life brighter than the one she currently lives. Similarly, her younger co-star Romana Maggiora Vergano convincingly plays the role of dutiful eldest daughter who simultaneously loves her mother and despises who she becomes under her tyrant of a husband’s rule.
Speaking of husbands, Valerio Mastandrea’s performance as despicable Ivano creates the realism and conflict that this film’s theatrics succeed in juxtaposing. Indeed, Mastandrea strikes the perfect balance by simultaneously never making his character too overbearing (a choice that would make this film much harder to swallow than intended) and never letting our protagonist fully experience the sense of freedom she so desperately yearns for.
This is best illustrated in There’s Still Tomorrow’s third act when the death of Ivano’s father–whose care and unpleasant spirits always fall to his reluctant wife–prevents Delia from her planned escape to another town with an old friend. Instead, Delia finds another form of freedom using the letter introduced–but never explained–at the very beginning of the film. While I will not spoil its contents (and, therefore, Delia’s fate), I will say that the ending of There’s Still Tomorrow both threw me for a loop and underscored its advocacy for working-class women’s rights in a stunning finale that utilized all of the aforementioned acclaimed features to the absolute best of its ability.
While I might have preferred a different ending, there’s no denying that There’s Still Tomorrow deserves every bit of acclaim it has received from its home country’s audience, critics, and academy award voters. As it makes its theatrical debut in the U.S., I hope There’s Still Tomorrow can be recognized even further for the original and inspiring tale of women’s suffrage that it is. Make no mistake, however–in spite of its serious subject matter, this film is a story of unadulterated light within a darkened house, country, and era–ones in which we all still reside.
