Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow – Ieri oggi domani

Italy (1963) Dir. Vittorio De Sica
The legendary Father of Italian Neo Realism may have drifted away from the genre he helped put on the map by the 1960’s but that didn’t stop him from having things to say about class structure and economic struggles of the ordinary family, even when making romantic comedies.

Yesterday, Today And Tomorrow is split into three stories all starring legendary screen siren Sophia Loren (by now an Oscar winning megastar) and the ubiquitous Marcello Mastroianni (name any major and influential Italian film from 1950 onwards and chances are he was in it), dealing with the subject of love and money in different settings.

Up first is the tale of Adelina of Naples. Loren plays the title character, wife to unemployed Carmine (Mastroianni) and sole breadwinner from selling black market cigarettes. Unable to pay a fine for furniture bought in her name, Adelina faces jail, but because she is pregnant Adelina cannot be arrested until six months after the birth. Therefore she concocts a plan to remain pregnant to avoid jail. After seven kids, Carmine can’t take the pressure to perform anymore.

There is a real Ealing Comedy vibe to this segment right down to the cheeky premise and the jaunty background music that sets the light tone from the offset. When the bailiffs come to either collect the money or repossess the furniture, they are let inside the meagre home space to find it completely devoid of any furnishings; when they are forced to leave empty handed, the jeering crowd sneak off and return with the furniture they hid during the visit.

Such community spirit is true of the East End of London during the same post-war period which explains the aforementioned comparison to the classic British working class based comedies. The same vigour the Italian housewives show towards the authority figures in solidarity of Adelina’s fertility based defiance of their rules is another similarity with the East End matriarchs, although unlike the Italians, I doubt they would treat a local woman like a star for basically screwing her way out of a jail sentence.

The second story is Anna of Milan, and is unique in that 90% of it takes place in a car, a Rolls Royce in fact. Anna (Loren) is the wife of a wealthy industrialist having an affair with Renzo (Mastroianni) but their attitudes towards money are wildly different – Renzo is an idealistic artist while money and status are everything to Anna. When driving the Rolls, Renzo prangs the car but Anna is more concerned about her wheels than her lover.

A pithy skit sitting betwixt two longer segments, the topic here is materialism and proves the less subtle of the message being imparted yet the only one that is realistically the right length. In this instance Loren’s wardrobe is provided by Christian Dior making her look every inch the rich society woman in contrast to the previous scene, which brings an attitude change that allows Loren to flex her acting chops. Mastroianni plays a role more in tune with his usual cool guy/tortured soul type.

Finally we meet Mara of Rome, a high-class prostitute with esteemed clients including the son of a wealthy business magnate Augusto (Mastroianni). Mara (Loren) lives across the way to an elderly couple whose trainee priest grandson Umberto (Gianni Ridolfi) pays a visit, becoming fixated with Mara. Umberto vows to abandon his ecclesiastical journey for Mara, causing an unlikely coalition between his disapproving grandmother (Tina Pica) and Mara to get Umberto back on track again.

The debate will rage as to which segment is the best between this and Adelina’s tale, and while both are vastly different, they are the most light hearted and given their lengths, invite competition. The satirical quotient is heavier in this story, which given the subject may seem unlikely but writer Cesare Zavattini pulls it off with joyous glee, and De Sica obliges with his near farcical direction.

While the highlight is unquestionably Loren’s sizzling sexy striptease – which must have caused some serious high blood pressure back in ’63 – the brilliance of the script lies in the plight of poor Augusto who regular turns up for a session but never gets round to it for a variety of reasons. This might go unnoticed but it’s a saucy thread to have running in the background that is more subversive than the main plotline.

If Adelina’s story is an Ealing Comedy then Mara’s is a more sophisticated Carry On film as written by the late great Dave Allen, albeit with less contempt for religion, not that this is necessarily a pointed attack on the church. It is interesting in how Mara doesn’t see herself as a scarlet woman due to her profession, instead reconciling it by the amount of money she makes and that her clientele are select regulars only.

All three women Loren plays are strong willed and call the shots on each occasion but this doesn’t always mean they are nice people, as Anna proves. For Loren this film is a tour de force showcase for her abilities, while Mastroianni gets to show his comedic range with his characters being an amusing array of Henpecked Henry’s, only Renzo being less of a pushover.

Having worked opposite each other before the chemistry between the two is undeniable and is the glue that holds the film together, which De Sica was clearly banking on, given how compendium films prefer to feature a different cast each time. The presentation noticeably changes to match each scenario – there is a rough-around- the-edges feel to Adelina’s urban tale, Anna’s car based yarn has a sterility to it and Mara’s story is very buoyant.

The Best Foreign Language Oscar Yesterday, Today And Tomorrow won was thoroughly deserved. It’s a fun and deviously sardonic triptych played as such by the two star leads, although De Sica’s social commentary is never far from the surface no matter how much levity is piled on top.