Oh the pitfalls of rendering homage to La Dolce Vita! Use it right, to show the ocean of moral lassitude that still lies underneath Italy’s stunning exterior, and you get attacked for ripping off Fellini (as Paolo Sorrentino unfortunately discovered). Use it superficially, as Saverio Costanzo does in Finally Dawn, and it feels like an empty retread saying very little about either the postwar years or today.
Set in the glory days of Cinecittà and following a guileless young woman who becomes a plaything for Hollywood stars shooting a sword and sandals epic, the film is an excellent showcase for newcomer Rebecca Antonaci, but with an absurdly didactic screenplay awash in multiple stereotypes, it falls short of its apparent influences (primarily Fellini and Sirk) and turns into a handsome old-fashioned drama with no resonance beyond the surface. While Finally Dawn may do well at home, where the nostalgia-hungry general public forgot long ago that “la dolce vita” was a sardonic title, it’s hard to imagine where this can travel.
Before we’re introduced to the characters, we’re plunged into the b&w world of occupied Rome, where a drunken, screaming Nazi officer hunts down a woman protecting a little Jewish girl. Is this a prologue, or does the accompanying sweeping orchestration signal that it’s “only” a movie? Fortunately it’s the latter, though Elvira (Carmen Pommella) complains to her daughters Iris (Sofia Panizzi) and Mimosa (Antonaci) that all these heavy Italian films are getting her down. Also in the audience is slick lothario Riccardo (Andrea Ottavi), the classic “I’m a casting director and can get you an audition” type, who’s taken a shine to Iris and makes the usual promises. The next day, under Elvira’s watchful eye, pretty Iris and plain-faced Mimosa go to Cinecittà; Riccardo is tossed out as a fraud but Iris gets cast as an extra, though only after the expected “take off your blouse” scene.
While Mimosa wanders the studio buildings looking for her sister, she turns starstruck when subjected to the ambiguous glare of American glamor girl Josephine Esperanto (Lily James), dressed for her role as an Egyptian woman pharaoh. Just before Mimosa is ushered out the gates, she’s called back and told Josephine insists she be in the next scene with her. Suddenly the girl’s dreams are being fulfilled: dressed as handmaiden, she stands before Josephine in the climactic scene, overblown yet oddly sparse, which Costanzo lets play out straight far, far longer than necessary.
Just when it’s time for her to go back to mama, Mimosa is given a red gown and shoes and scooped up into Josephine’s entourage, consisting of her fresh-faced leading man Sean Lockwood (Joe Keery) and bilingual art dealer Rufus Priori (Willem Dafoe). It’s all a magical world for the artless girl without a word of English as they wander the ruins of the Villa dei Quintili, the sphinx-like Josephine in full screen goddess mode (more Rita Hayworth than Anita Ekberg). As the night wears on, the group wind up at a Renaissance villa near the sea, where Josephine’s cruelty, sprung from feelings of inadequacy, takes its toll.
Her main target is Mimosa, whose mousy appearance (at least, that’s how we’re meant to read her) lets Josephine shine: with Mimosa she has no rival, not like upcoming starlet Nan Roth (Rachel Sennott) or superior actress Alida Valli (Alba Rohrwacher, warmer than she’s been in a long time). Keeping Mimosa by her side allows Josephine to feel eternally superior, a plaything in her power games as the bewildered girl learns that the artifice of the movie world is not for wallflowers.
Early on Mimosa wanders into a projection room and sees a newsreel about a would-be actress named Wilma Montesi whose body was found on the beach; it’s introduced into the story as a prefigurement, a warning, but although Wilma’s name comes back towards the end, Costanzo doesn’t do anything with this Black Dahlia concept, like several possibilities teased yet undeveloped. He’s not stylistically imitating Fellini though he does follow certain patterns present in La Dolce Vita, including the long night of disillusionment and the depiction of society and film types as shallow, decadent users toying with those in their orbit. With Fellini, the implication was that the post-war social fabric was infected and beneath the superficiality lay emptiness, but Costanzo’s loss of innocence drama draws no such parallels. Perhaps he didn’t even want to, but what’s left is a highly predictable story locked in its period charms.
In a cast of seasoned professionals, Antonaci in her first screen role easily holds her own, projecting a vulnerability that captures our sympathies, and while that too has a stereotyped air, much like the sauce-making mama and the predatory pimp-socialite, she keeps the character interesting rather than pathetic. Lily James makes Josephine’s artifice a potent weapon (far better than the Gen Z snarkiness of Rachel Sennott’s starlet), inhabiting the 1950s glamor with aplomb. Joe Keery’s superficial leading man is awfully wet at the start until he too comes into his own, and Willem Defoe, much like Alba Rohrwacher, adds a necessary touch of compassion: their characters don’t try to preserve Mimosa’s innocence, but at least they provide some notes of kindness.
Master cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom (Uncle Boonmee, Call Me by Your Name) adapts the visuals to each stage in Mimosa’s journey, from the neutral tones of her family life to the saturated colors of Josephine’s lipstick world. 1950s Rome isn’t romanticized, and the hot-house villa scenes avoid the baroque excesses of Eyes Wide Shut, reserving a sumptuous gaze for Josephine’s fierce beauty and Alida Valli’s aura of warmth.
Director, screenplay: Saverio Costanzo
Cast: Lily James, Rebecca Antonaci, Joe Keery, Rachel Sennott, Alba Rohrwacher, Willem Dafoe, Sofia Panizzi, Carmen Pommella, Enzo Casertano, Michele Bravi, Andrea Ottavi, Gabriele Falsetta
Producers: Mario Gianani, Lorenzo Gangarossa
Executive producers: Olivia Sleiter, Saverio Costanzo
Cinematography: Sayombhu Mukdeeprom
Production designer: Laura Pozzaglio
Costume designer: Antonella Cannarozzi
Editing: Francesca Calvelli
Music: Massimo Martellotta
Sound: Gaetano Carito
Production companies: Wildside with Rai Cinema (Italy), in association with Fremantle (Italy), Cinecittà (Italy), Filmnation Entertainment (USA)
World sales: Film Nation
Venue: Venice (competition)
In Italian, English
141 minutes
