After decades of celebrated performances in Italian cinema and television, Paola Cortellesi made her directorial debut with There’s Still Tomorrow, a 1940s-set post-war drama that she also co-wrote and leads. Following the matriarch of a working-class family navigating a toxic marriage and a daughter whom she doesn’t want to follow in the same footsteps, as well as romantic fantasies of a better life, the black-and-white crowdpleaser was a massive box-office sensation in Italy, where it is among the country’s 10 highest-grossing films of all-time.
Ahead of the film’s U.S. opening beginning this Friday from Greenwich Entertainment, I spoke with Cortellesi about capturing the specific tone of the film, being inspired by classic Neorealist dramas and comedies, the central mother-daughter story, and why the film has resonated specifically in her county and abroad.
The Film Stage: The film starts with a slap. How important was it to establish the peril of Delia’s daily life right from the start?
Paola Cortellesi: Scene one is like the overture of the opera. It’s the summary of all the things that are going to happen in the film. So it’s about violence, which is clear. It’s violent, but it’s also a little weird, maybe fun, because she goes on like nothing happens; it doesn’t matter. She’s like a lady Cinderella. There’s a song in contrast. It’s a famous song of the time: “I opened a window. And let’s breathe the fresh air of the spring.” And there’s a dog peeing on the basement. So it’s terrible, but it’s also, in a way, fun. And that’s the sense of, well: we will be talking about all of this.
You’ve mentioned being inspired by Italian Neorealism and Italian comedies. Are there any specific films you looked back on when preparing, and how did they help the process?
Well, as Italian viewers we all grew up with neorealism and the Italian comedies of the ’50s and ’60s. So, because we watched it on TV, we all know that. And they were––yes, of course––an inspiration for me. And it comes, also, from my grandmother’s story. It’s a mélange of things, taking from their stories, and I imagine that story through how the cinema told me, and the cinema was the ’40s cinema. I loved specifically a kind of neorealism that we call “pink neorealism,” that it’s about real things, real people speaking in a real language, but also with a romantic side, so it’s sweeter. And I like many of those movies. It’s Campo de’ fiore [The Peddler and the Lady], I could tell you many titles, many with Anna Magnani also. She was also involved in pink neorealism and she was great. She was everywhere.
And so that kind of cinema really inspired me. Then I chose black-and-white because my grandma’s memories came from that time and I imagined that in black-and-white––they were talking to me. So that’s the reason why I chose that kind of style. And then it changes in the first eight-and-a-half minutes. It’s exactly like neorealism; also the square screen and the music up to that time. It’s a fake start, but starting from the opening title, everything changes: the music and the screen and language, the character of the people, and the way of speaking they had.
How did the cinematography collaboration with Davide Leone work? It’s black-and-white but there’s a very specific desaturated look.
We shot with regular cameras, so the real shoot was in color, but I have it on the monitor in black-and-white. Of course, it’s not exactly what you see on the screen. We made so many changes and worked on it. We worked on set with the set designer and costume designer to make some differences between the colors of the costume and wallpaper, for example, because it could be all gray. So we wanted to find a contrast on set, and that was the work.
I loved your use of anachronistic music. Did you decide these early on and was it a way to say these issues still exist in the modern day?
Well, those choices were written and some scenes came from the music. I was listening to some music and the scene came out. I didn’t want to ape neorealism; I didn’t need to do that. I just wanted to do my film with my language. And of course, the subject is about domestic violence, but I wanted to set a film in that time to talk to the present day because we have an issue with domestic violence and femicide and we are counting a femicide, on average, every 72 hours. So we have a problem and my purpose was just to talk about it and where it comes from. Not from the ’30s, because it’s an age-old question. Italy’s changed, but that kind of mentality is here; it’s with us. So, coming back to the music, it’s also about a language. It’s not just about a past time, but it speaks to our present day. So I chose specific songs while writing.
The film really becomes a beautiful mother-daughter story. What was it like writing that aspect of the film? Did you draw from any of your own experiences?
Yes, but not a specific experience. Of course, I am lucky compared to the characters in the film. It’s dedicated to my daughter. She’s 12 now, and when I was writing the film she was eight-and-a-half. As I was starting the script, we were reading a book together before sleeping about women’s rights and history for girls, so it’s great for little young girls. She couldn’t believe that it wasn’t possible that women had no rights. And she kept telling me, “But is it real or is it fake? It’s a story or it’s real?” It was real. So I felt relieved, in a way, because she’s living in a better world and she has rights that my grandmothers didn’t have. I wanted her to be aware of where the rights come from and the fact that rights are not eternal, and this is dedicated not, of course, only to my daughter, but to all the girls and guys that have to focus on these kinds of problems.
While you were writing it, did you envision it as a crowdpleaser, in a sense, or did that come to fruition when you finally saw with an audience?
Well, this is my first [film]. I’m 51 now, so I’m not a little girl, and I’ve been working in this industry for almost 30 years, but I couldn’t imagine [the response] so I just wrote about a subject that I cared about. I knew in writing that maybe I would have touched an open wound because we have an open wound on this subject. And that was my purpose, but I couldn’t imagine what happened.
As the film opens in the United States, is there anything particular to Italian culture that may help expand the experience? And what has it been like touring the film around the world?
I don’t know. My experience until now, so far, I’ve been visiting so many places to release the film. In Europe, in Argentina, and I’m coming from Japan. I’m going to China. In every place––and this is not good news––they felt involved in a way, in their own way. For instance: one of the first releases abroad was in Sweden. And as Italians, we consider Sweden, northern Europe, the most emancipated and most advanced societies. So I couldn’t imagine that they could feel touched by this subject. But they were, because they have almost the same problem. So I’m learning in every place––I’m learning that this subject touches people.
Of course, in Italy we have direct memories from our families because we have great-grandmothers who told us about the time. I’m the last generation, maybe, who had a great-grandmother who was living as a young woman at that time. But we have direct experience and also that type of life, on the courtyard where everyone is screaming and sharing bad and good things with all the others––I think this is a typical way of living. Not now––it’s completely different––but in some areas it’s still the same way. So maybe this is specifically very, very Italian style, but its subject––until now, so far––I think that it’s universal. It is universal. And this is not good news.
I remember when the film opened in Italy and beat Barbie at the box office, people were discussing connections between the two, about women having more autonomy and fighting for their own rights. I’m curious if you saw Barbie and if you saw any kinship?
Well, Barbie of course, worldwide, has been a great success––also here in Italy. But this was bigger, just in Italy, just because it’s Italian. But it’s something that happens to an Italian movie once in a lifetime. Just once. And this kind of thing happened to me with my first movie. So now I have a problem with how to go on. [Laughs] But yes: I think that in Italy, yes, they felt closer. The same problem, the same issues. Not just the same because it’s about female emancipation, but it’s also about violence. And it’s more specific because, as I told you, we have a problem and people are counting everywhere. And sometimes eating dinner and listening to the news and every 72 hours comes the news that another woman was killed by her ex-boyfriend or ex-husband. It’s the same story every time. Italians are full-up tired of this; it’s very deeply set in our feelings, in our soul. So that’s why I think, in Italy, the film [had more attendance] than Barbie.
With the film being such a surprising success, how does that inform your next project? What are you working on next?
Well, I don’t have a real new project. I’m working on it, and I spent the last year-and-a-half going around the world. And this is a beautiful thing, but I didn’t have time to start a new project. But I’m starting now and, of course, it’s different––even though I’ve been facing the subject in many ways as an actress, as a comedian, as a playwright. So I’ve been facing this and this subject in many ways, so this movie, it’s the end of this. It’s not the end in my life because I keep fighting for for it in every way I can. But the next one, of course, will be a different thing.
There’s Still Tomorrow opens in U.S. theaters on Friday, March 7.