Adua and Her Friends

Antonio Pietrangelli's ADUA E LE COMPAGNE (ADUA AND HER FRIENDS) is a slice of Italian neo-realist film-making.

Legal brothels have just been banned, and now four professional girls must find a new occupation. Adua (Simone Signoret, Room at the Top, Ship of Fools), Milly (Gina Rovere, Life is Beautiful, and Best Actress winner for this film at the Avellino Neorealism Film Festival), Lolita (Sandra Milo, Juliet of the Spirits, nominated for Best Supporting Actress for this film by Italian National Syndicate of Film Journalists), and Marilina (Emmanuelle Riva, Hiroshima Mon Amour) create a restaurant with the plan to make an illicit brothel of the upstairs rooms.

When obstacles prevent opening their restaurant, they turn to Dr. Ercoli (Claudio Gora), a local "fixer" who'll make the license happen, but only for a price. They carry on, but know the past will eventually come knocking. With a restaurant that's slowly becoming successful, and the attentions of car salesman Piero (Marcello Mastroianni), Adua and the girls adjust to their new lives. One starts a new romance; another reconnects with her young son.

If you are looking for titillation in a story about four prostitutes, you need to look elsewhere, as this film, with some stirring jazz, focuses on the characters in transition.

What a perfect piece of Italian neorealism this is. I am seriously wondering why it is not included in all of the usual lists with I ladri di biciclette, Umberto D, Roma Citta Aperta, etc. A gripping story about the life of prostitutes and how they struggle to survive against all the odds. Also a story about classism and hypocrisy, more generally. Simone Signoret is excellent as always, but so is Emanuelle Riva. Plus Marcello Mastroianni plays the consummate cad. All in all, extremely well done with a gripping story and a searing look at politics and classism in Italy.

Highly recommended.

Here is a wonderful example of Italian realism from 1960 that I'd never heard of until this week--and I'm 65 years old and a big fan of this genre. It was shown in San Francisco as the only "classic" film in a festival of recent Italian cinema. It deserves a wider audience. How can a film that stars Simone Signoret and Marcello Mastroianni remain so obscure? This story of four prostitutes forced to fend for themselves when a new law closes the bordellos of Rome reminds one of "Bicycle Thief" or "The Organizer," in its gritty social realism, but there are scenes of happiness and humor too. They pool their savings to open a trattoria, but find they cannot get a license. A prominent fixer with connections obtains the license for them, on condition that they conduct their old business upstairs and pay him an exorbitant monthly fee. The women are not anxious to turn tricks for a living any longer and find joy in running the restaurant. The women long to settle down--one has a child, another meets a man who loves her. Only one is tempted to return to her old life. Signoret, the major character here and as wonderful as ever, falls for Mastroianni, a glib car salesman, hustler and womanizer. While the trattoria is a success, it does not bring in the kind of money demanded by their "patron," which leads to conflict. The resolutions of their individual stories develop alongside that of their collective story. In this genre, happy endings are not a staple. Grim reality is, however. We can feel great sympathy for these women, but we know that such people are too often bound by destiny, given the realities of power--who has it and who hasn't--and the attitudes of society. All this drama is accompanied by a terrific jazz soundtrack, which is unfortunately not credited. The black-and-white cinematography is first rate. The closing scene in the rain ranks among the all-time unforgettable film endings.

When a brothel closes because of new laws, four of the prostitutes decide to go into business running a restaurant. They discover they cannot escape their past.

European films (particularly French and Italian) seem to have some strange preoccupation with brothels and prostitution, often glamorizing it. Here is more of that, with these four ladies coming across as fiercely independent. Not impossible, but probably not the most common sort of folks who worked the trade.

What makes this film interesting, at least historically, is that it was made in response to an actual law that shut down brothels. And, indeed, it does raise that question: where are prostitutes to go? They have an unusual skill set, odd references... and respectability is limited.

Italian screenwriter-director Antonio Pietrangeli died young at the age of 49, during a drowning accident while shooting COME, QUANDO, PERCHÉ (1969), and ADUA AND HER FRIENDS, perhaps is his most distinguished work treads the post-Neorealism soil with a broad comic vibe.

Adua (Signoret) and her three friends, more specifically, her workmates, Lolita (Milo), Marilina (Riva) and Milly (Rovere) are prostitutes, who are out of work due to the Merlin law, which made brothels illegal in Italy in 1958, together, they invest all their savings to open a trattoria in the suburbs of Rome, hope to start a new business and leave their dishonourable past behind, but a second chance seems to be a dashed dream for people like them. The restaurant business is thriving, at one time, their customer even includes the famed cantautore Domencico Modugno, but soon the reality check will catch up with these girls, a bleak coda shows that the society is not ready to welcome them back with warm arms.

The synopsis sounds rather despondent, but the movie is beguilingly infused with a boisterous commedia dell'arte sheen. The quartet itself doesn't hold together in the first place, Lolita is a hackneyed bimbo, gullible and care-free , who foolhardily believes in her swindling beau Stefano (Tedeschi); Marilina is the cynical one made up with plenty of bile and has an unbaptised son to care about; Milly, is an unassuming hard-worker, who is really close to a happy marriage with their one of their frequenters Emilio (Rais); finally Adua, the oldest and wisest among them, has a worldly perception but her ill-fated romance with a smooth-talking Italian Romeo Piero (Mastroianni, in his usual dashing and flirtatious flair) can only spell happiness is nothing but a dashed dream for her, Signoret again cement the scenes where superficial comedy head-butts with harsh realism.

Pietrangeli never shifts his sympathy towards these women of ill repute in his vigorous portrayal, even for Marilina (Riva is equipped with searing fierceness here), whose wanton behaviour initially occasions a fervent sense of objectionableness, but her hard edge begins to mellow once her son is back in her life. They are far from perfect, but at least, they try very hard to be self-sufficient, which is in sheer comparison with all the men in their lives, are either ignoble self-seekers, callous brutes or dreadful cowards, save for the layman priest (D'Amore). The condemnation is sublimated in the ending, where although only Adua is present, but if she is at her wits' end, it is not difficult to imagine what happens to the other three. On balance, the film is a diverting romp carrying a scorching message, deserves the attention of hardcore cinephiles.