Ettore Scola
La Cena

"La Cena" is a comedy by Ettore Scola from 1998.

A colorful fresco of humanity. Scola enjoys delving into the soul and spirit of people. The result is an almost metaphysical "painting," where only in the end can the observing tourist draw conclusions in light of the presentation of the characters. Everyone offers something of themselves, with variations and nuances that outline the contours of a multitude of diners. Dinner is a moment of sharing where interaction with others ends up revealing unexpected aspects. There are no interruptions, no disturbances. It's a kind of precious gathering, a moment of concluding everyday life, where one sums up the day and sometimes even their life.

Wonderful Vittorio Gassman: one of the actor's last performances that, despite his age, overflows with poetry and energy. An extremely delicate and intense character, professor Pezzullo, a regular at the restaurant, whose opinion matters to both customers and waiters, whose interventions support and reassure, and whose initiatives persuade and provoke reflection. And just this image would suffice to leave the audience satisfied with this film, which finds in its static nature an extreme investigative resource that resonates from one soul to another. But no. There's more.

The restless Fanny Ardant, who plays the restaurant owner (or rather, the wife of the owner Arturo), Flora, touches everyone with her graceful presence and delicacy, perched in brand-new red shoes. She dominates the situation over clients and staff but harbors secrets and emotional disturbances that expose her to a feminine fragility that fits her perfectly.

An impressively beautiful Stefania Sandrelli, a lively and somewhat scatterbrained mother who will make a very bitter discovery about her daughter during the dinner. Her final reaction is truly touching.

 A Giancarlo Giannini in the role of a fierce philosophy professor, with a young lover in tow, apparently subdued and untamed, but revealing more and more, throughout the dinner, his true cowardly nature.

 But there are, incredibly, dozens and dozens of other characters whose facets strike and only at the end of the film, when everything is summed up, does one realize the massive dose of humanity that Scola has captured in just over an hour and a half. The entire array of characters, because it is an array, is a tangle of essences, amazing to frame them so quickly.

In this seemingly ordinary evening, there is something magical, metaphysical, a touch of surrealism in the atmosphere. The presence of a self-proclaimed Italo-French magician, played by Antonio Catania, (who will gain the trust of an uncertain little office worker in search of himself, mooching a dinner off him) is, if you will, the key ingredient, mingling along the way with the "poetry" of maestro Gassman/Pezzullo.

 Among the character situations lie the discomforts, dreams, hopes, clandestine loves, and illusory appearances of three, perhaps four generations, which clash, coexist with difficulty but survive and continue, albeit with difficulty. In particular, symbolizing this discomfort is the restaurant chef, who throughout the film will complain about everything and everyone, and so strongly that all the dinner talk of the patrons will have this absurd background.

 Actors arguing over a play to perform, a family gathering and arguing, a businesswoman, a young couple expecting a child, a table of retired teachers, one of entrepreneurs with wives, and one of festive teenagers complete the rich tapestry of stories intertwined with those of the three waiters, another tangle of hopes, sufferings, and expectations that emerge in a few lines, thanks to the class of an experienced director like Ettore Scola. Someone who doesn't shout while telling, a director who knows how to tell his characters with tact and wisdom (and what characters), a touch of grotesque irony, a hint of bitterness, for a not very well-known film that certainly does a great job compared to the Italian cinema of the '90s.

A film that lasts a dinner, successful, soft, welcoming, and friendly. Veiled with intimacy, no unnecessary sentimentalism, at times energetic, at times gentle and relaxing, sometimes even amusing.

Worth watching.