La femme du dimanche

This movie surprised me with its lines and story that mixes an elaborate detective plot and the lightness of a light comedy. A truly colorful cast revolves around the murder of a very uninhibited and vulgar man who is killed with the right weapon for him. I will not spoilers though.

"La donna della domenica" is an outstanding film, but one that is unlikely to be fully appreciated by non-Italians, most of whom might see it as a whodunnit of sorts. Its strength lies, instead, not just with its excellent cast, but also with the caustic way in which it describes Turin's high society: full of characters that, behind their apparent stylishness and elegance, betray a penchant for hypocrisy and an inability to look further than the conventional way in which they live.

It looks more like a comedy, and a well-written, witty one at that.

Books are usually better than movies from books, one may say it's a universal truth. And Fruttero&Lucentini's novel is better indeed in this case, read it for proof. But - surprise, surprise! - no bad movie at all: a bunch of excellent actors and actresses, all at ease in their roles (especially Mrs. Lina Volonghi, a great actress whose kind Italy should regret) and the feeling they are all having fun while acting (see the hilarious scene with Mastroianni among a group of prostitutes in the police station). Just good for one of those boring Sunday afternoons in winter.

Lightweight, afternoon tea-like Giallo with subtle humour and a nice performance by Marcello Mastrioanni. A kind of Marks and Spencer

giallo.

In Turin, dirty old man/architect Garrone goes about his daily business of looking up woman's skirts, making optimistic passes at young waitresses, and ruining high class are exhibitions. Meanwhile, bored housewife Anna is tuning out her older husband ramblings and thinking about a pointless argument she's having with her possible lover Massimo (Jean-Luis Trintigant). They are arguing about how to pronounce the word Boston, by the way, and this architect Garrone has stuck his nib in about it. Clearly venting, Anna writes a letter where she thinks Massimo and herself should kill Garrone.

Garrone ends up being beaten to death by a giant stone phallus and Anna regrets writing that letter as her two newly-fired house staff take the letter to the police. The man in charge of the case is Marcello Mastrioanni and he's a bit uncomfortable with this whole upper class thing. The bored Anna and the even more bored Massimo start treating the whole thing like a game and start doing their own investigations.

Complicating things further is the revelation that Massimo isn't Anna's lover, as he's in a turbulent gay relationship Lello. While it's refreshing to see an actual gay relationship in an Italian movie from this era, rather than a man in drag battering policeman with a handbag and screaming that he's all woman, these two bicker like fiends and you wonder what Lello is thinking when he also starts his own investigation into the murder to save his relationship with Massimo.

The more Marcello digs, the more dirt he finds as it seems that no one has an alibi and everyone seems to be up to something. He now also has to contend with two eccentric sisters who have trouble with hooker using their garden for business, a mysterious car that's following people around and a stonemason business that specializes in stone phalluses

There's not a great deal of murder here but plenty of mystery, and Marcello Mastrioanni's laid back, bemused cop wanders through a world he doesn't understand, with a few sidekicks, many, many meals, and plenty of discussion about Sicilians, Sardinians, and Piedmontians. It's quite a long film for a giallo and even though it's trash free, my mind didn't wander at all while watching it.

Nice Ennio Morricone soundtrack too - but do i have to say that?

Well I can safely say that I never thought I would ever see Marcello Mastroianni - star of several important Federico Fellini and Michaelangelo Antonioni art films - appear in a room full of giant ceramic penises. It's certainly a defining feature of sorts to have the number one Italian actor of the 60's New Wave find himself in this sort of scenario. But to be fair, aside from these giant phalluses having an important part in the plot, The Sunday Woman is a fairly restrained bit of Italian cinema. It certainly, partially at least, falls under the giallo sub-genre but it has the feeling more of an Agatha Christie style whodunit than of a typical Italian murder-mystery. The reason for this is that the story revolves around a very unlikable murder victim whose behaviour ensures that there are plenty of suspects, while the overall emphasis of the film is squarely on the mystery side of the story with very little thriller aspects at all.

The murders are committed off-screen and there is a distinct lack of suspense scenes. This sets it apart from the usual giallo conventions. To be perfectly honest though, if the movie had added more of that sort of stuff it would be even better and might have entered the upper bracket of its genre. As it is, it's a much less salacious affair – giant penises aside – and more reliant on its plotting and acting. It's fairly solid on that front with not only Mastroianni at its disposal as the police inspector but also the reliable Jean-Louis Tritignant in one of his less broody roles as one of the chief suspects, while it was good to see Aldo Regianni from Dario Argento's The Cat o' Nine Tails in another shifty role as Tritignant's homosexual lover. It's also worth pointing out the Il Maestro himself, Ennio Morricone, once more contributes a quality score. He produced so many during this period that is very easy to forget just how good they all actually were and, well, this is yet another one.

It's possibly a little overlong in fairness. The material doesn't really justify a running time just shy of two hours. Having said that it does remain compelling nevertheless and the answer to the mystery isn't too obvious and is quite satisfying. I also liked the strange moments where we see slow-motion fantasy flashbacks of the suspects striking down on the unfortunate victim with their ceramic penis weaponry. It's just so strange but somewhat memorable. I wouldn't necessarily describe The Sunday Woman as a must see for fans of Italian genre cinema though. It may disappoint some who seek the thrills of a typical giallo for example. But I personally consider it one, just a far more low-key entry, and one that has enough intrigue and strange moments to ensure that it works pretty well.