Ettore Scola
C'eravamo tanto amati

Mark these dates for future reference: 1958, 1975. They are two dates, ok, but they are two important dates. In some way, they mark the beginning (1958) and the end (1975) of the history of the Italian cinema that matters. The trailblazer was ""I soliti ignoti" (which I'll talk to you about one day), and the end was marked by ""Amici miei", the last great possible comedy. From Monicelli to Monicelli: and it's no coincidence.
Right there in the middle, between a ""Sorpasso" and a ""Matrimonio all'italiana", just before the agonizing finale, there sits a great film, ""C'eravamo tanto amati", signed by Scola. Ettore Scola.

Scola is a true and pure Neapolitan, grown up during the war (he was born in 1931) with healthy and robust 'leftist' principles, he doesn't put on airs of an intellectual, he's not snobbish, he always tries to frame reality in a historical context (which isn't easy) and even when he lets himself go to some melancholic excess, see ""Una giornata particolare" (1977), he does so with a light touch, with grace and elegance. Rome is his adopted city: he's been working here for a little over forty years, always and only with great actors, from Marcello Mastroianni to Nino Manfredi, Ugo Tognazzi to Vittorio Gassman. And he holds a record: he is the Italian director who received the most Oscar nominations, a total of 4. Won, alas, none.
In the middle, as I was saying, there is ""C'eravamo tanto amati", his most political film and at the same time his most intimate work. A daring film sure, but also ambitious. It narrates the adventures of three friends (Gassman, Manfredi, Satta Flores) who first fight against the fascists together during the war, then take different paths (one studies to become a lawyer and another gets hired in a hospital), but their lives continue to intertwine, always followed by the red thread represented by Luciana (a marvelous Stefania Sandrelli) who falls in love with all three, and then chooses one. Or maybe not?

A story of an Italian, and the story of Italy (or rather, the small Italy). A story of disillusionment: when you are young you have a lot of ideas in your head, and it's often difficult to put them together. A story of a country born with the myth of anti-fascism and communism, and then grew with the Christian Democracy. There are those who remain true to themselves (Manfredi), those who call off a wedding to follow their ideals (Satta Flores), and those who renounce their past in a way that is halfway between the sly and the cynical (Gassman). It is precisely Gassman's character that fascinates: a complex, conflicted charlatan who, after gaining the sympathies of an old bumpkin real estate developer (an inestimable Aldo Fabrizi), is ashamed to tell his former friends that he owns a villa and a pool.
""C'eravamo tanto amati" isn't just this. It’s also a profound reflection on the morality of certain repentant ex-militants, but it's above all a film that possesses enviable technique. Scola uses two different storytelling planes: first black and white, the dark, gloomy, and sad one of war and pain, then color, the one that precedes and tells the Boom (for those who have seen it, naturally) and alternates the most diverse cinematic languages: from the classic coming-of-age story, to theater within theater, to close-up shots (the protagonists often stop and start dialoguing with the camera). A choral film, somewhat like Robert Altman's, but before Robert Altman.

A naturally very high rating to Ettore Scola, a giant in the use of the camera, but the performances of the individual actors are also to be applauded: on Gassman and Manfredi, honestly, there is little to comment on (they have always been good, and here they simply confirm it), but the masterful performance of the unfortunately forgotten Stefano Satta Flores should be highlighted. A thoroughbred actor, often relegated to minor roles, he makes the true big leap into noteworthy cinema here (though he will remain very briefly) playing the perhaps less interesting character of the film but it's, perhaps, the one Scola cares about the most (personal memories? duly concealed autobiography?) enough to give him the most beautiful line of the entire film and the extreme synthesis of an entire generation: ""We thought we could change the world, instead the world changed us".

In the background, a Rome never so beautiful and, at the same time, never so sly. With detailed references to the country's life, the one that was afraid of the Red Brigades and wondered how Vittorio De Sica managed to make the child protagonist of ""Ladri di biciclette" cry (here, you need to have seen the film to understand the connection). Luxury cameos, the omnipresent Mike Bongiorno with his unforgettable ""Lascia o raddoppia?" and, in a memorable sequence at the Trevi Fountain, Marcello Mastroianni and Federico Fellini.

Great public success, several international awards as well. One to see. To not be deluded.