Centered by a dynamic lead performance by Anna Magnani, Luchino Visconti’s third feature Bellissima (1953) is a tragicomic tale of one mother’s quest to achieve show business success for her young daughter, amid the postwar boom of Cinecittà Studios.

Following World War II, in an Italy heavily scarred by war and not fully industrialized, film production and its investment both domestically and abroad made the movie business a massive employer and golden opportunity for hopeful Romans. While certainly still relevant today, Bellissima captures that distinct postwar setting amid the allure of moviemaking and tantalizing possibility of fame. Italy’s Hollywood on the Tiber promised opportunity and success, ushering in a horde of stage moms, and young children in tow, looking to ride the wave of success offered by Cinecittà.

Set amid this cultural moment, Bellissima follows the Cecconi family, with mother Maddalena (Anna Magnani) bringing her daughter Maria to the studio to get her big break. She crosses paths with Annovazzi, who works for the studio, and initially appears to be in her corner, helping as she navigates through acting coaches, photography sessions, ballet classes, makeovers – anything to give her daughter an edge when it comes to impressing the studio execs. When he requests money from her, to procure gifts and favors to route to the bigwigs, she accepts this sacrifice as part of the game.

When Maddalena’s not carting Maria up and down Rome, her day job is as a nurse, giving injections to patients all throughout the city, from diabetics to Romans who just need a chemical jolt of energy. As her line of work offers instant gratification and easy solutions, her concept of Maria’s burgeoning talents and eventual fame are similarly turnkey and simplistic; scoffing and not understanding why her daughter’s ballet teacher would her on the sidelines, running drills away from the girls who’ve been dancing for years.

While the film portrays a very real, and likely still ongoing, drive and struggle to find success in show business, it tonally falls within a subgenre called “pink neorealism” (neorealismo rosa), rather than the more extreme, dire scenarios associated with Italian neorealism immediately following World War II. The Cecconi family are depicted as upper-lower-class, aspiring to get ahead and buy a better home but still with a roof over their heads and food on the table. Their status is a difficult, but not the harshest, socio-economic condition of that era, and their story told with a comic touch, bringing a levity to an often challenging reality.

Much of the comedy, as well as tragedy, and every emotion in-between, is presented through Anna Magnani’s towering performance. Unsurprisingly, she’s terrific as always as the lead, a stage mother trying to help her daughter find success, but she’s not the stereotypical nightmare of a stage mom we would expect. She’s ambitious and at times aggressive, but also isn’t absent of doubt and awareness, peppering humorous self-deprecation through her interactions. Her energy feels frantic, uncontained, and through her constant asides and self-talk, she floods the camera with her presence even when she’s the only one in the frame.

In addition to showcasing Magnani’s acting powers, the camerawork also establishes two core ideas, visually, early on in the film. As Annovazzi, a Cinecittà studio employee, gives tips to Maddalena, he is framed in the doorway, centered in the image facing Maddalena on one side, and the open door to the soundstage behind him. He’s literally what’s standing in the way between Maddalena’s access to the studio, and her foot in the door to show business.

Shortly after, amid the chaos of parents and girls squeezing into the soundstage, it’s Maria’s turn, and Maddalena brings her forward, in a small space before the casting team. It’s one unmoving, constant shot, as Maddalena introduces herself and her daughter, and Maria recites a poem as part of her audition. This unyielding image stirs up anticipation, with growing self-awareness of being gazed upon and scrutinized, plus the visibility they’re signing up for by entering this world.

Being seen, and looked upon, is visually reinforced throughout the film, both narratively as Maria gets her hair done, a new dress, and a professional photography session, as well as through the set design and framing. Mirrors are a constant presence, as reflections of one’s physical appearance, as well as a reminder of being looked upon, at all angles, at all times.

Even as a work of pink neorealism, mostly lighter films from the postwar era, Bellissima is a thematically poignant led by Magnani’s complex interpretation of Maddalena, and heightened through powerful camerawork, as a vibrant time capsule of early 1950s Cinecittà.

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Source:

• Levy, Shawn. Dolce Vita Confidential: Fellini, Loren, Pucci, Paparazzi, and the Swinging High Life of 1950s Rome. W. W. Norton & Company, 2016.