My place is here, the review of the film with Ludovica Martino

Female emancipation, the hidden community of homosexuals in the countryside after the Second World War, a small village in rural Calabria starved by the war, the girls about to get married who dream of having Rita Hayworth’s hair, but who have to settle for egg compresses and horse shit. And then Martha And Lorenzowho couldn’t be further apart and who instead will end up being more similar than they think. My place is here tells of this “small ancient world” at the dawn of the revolutions that would have shaken it to its foundations: the right to vote for women and the birth of the Republic. Based on the debut novel of the same name by Daniela Porto who writes and directs it together with her husband Cristiano Bortonethe film arrives in theaters on May 9th with Adler Entertainment after having already won two awards at the last Bif&st, for best director and best actress for Ludovica Martino (the revelation of Skam).

A story of emancipation and redemption

My place is here is a classic story of rebellion and redemption: the fight against patriarchy, the conquest of a femininity free to express itself, the liberation from fathers and husbands in the name of an independence achieved through newspaper clippings, typed letters and typewriters. For the themes addressed, the much celebrated There’s Still Tomorrow will echo, but the common ground is limited to the contents: to the black and white fable of Paola Cortellesi My Place Is Here favors the desaturated and bruised colors of the Calabrian countryside of the 1940s and a realism that contemplates the use of the dialect of the time. It is 1940 and in Fontenuova, a small town in Calabria, Martha (Ludovica Martino) e Michele, two young lovers, exchange promises of love and spend the night together before he leaves for the front from which he will never return. Nine months later Marta, now pregnant, gives birth to little Michelangelo; the years pass between bombs and hunger and when the war ends her condition as a single mother begins to become uncomfortable. Hers is a peasant family, of very humble origins, Marta Li “he dragged everyone through the mud, with one more mouth to feed” and we will need to think about how to repair the damage. When Mr. Gino, a widowed farmer with two children, offers to marry her, her family cannot help but be enthusiastic about her and the girl, knowing that she has no alternative, will accept her, albeit reluctantly.

However, what will change her life will be the meeting with Lorenzo (Marco Leonardi), “the wedding man”, a declared homosexual who assists the parish priest in preparing the weddings of the town’s young brides. Despite her initial reluctance towards her, Marta will learn to know Lorenzo who turns out to be the only one capable of understanding her, opening her up to a different and unconventional, but authentic world. He has already had her chance, but it is not yet too late to help Marta find her own. On the eve of the first women’s vote and the birth of the Republic, the girl begins to have greater and greater awareness of herself and of her being a woman, and thanks to Lorenzo’s help, she begins to clandestinely attend a typing course in the headquarters of the Communist Party of a nearby country and to dream of a different future, perhaps in the North where “there will be those who speak northern”.

Ludovica Martino from Skam Italia to Vita da Carlo 2: “I’m Santa Claus, I buy the decorations much earlier”

A rebellious and conscious femininity

Daniela Porto And Cristiano Bortone they write and direct an authentic work that finds its strength in its performers and in the extreme realism of the staging: Ludovica Martino in a new role and grappling with the Calabrian dialect proves capable of touching the most intimate chords of a rebellious and combative femininity, Marco Leonardi, an all too underrated actor, is her perfect counterpoint. Only theirs together characters will manage to find the courage to go through the social, cultural and political turmoil that is changing the face of Italy: both frowned upon by the local community, her as a single motherhim for his sexual orientation, will experience a journey of liberation from a culture where women can only fulfill their marital duties, drink lemonade, participate in Sunday mass or premarital courses and remember that “the husband is the head of the family, he brings bread home. His sweat is like holy water”.

A film about education as a tool for emancipation, but also a story of research and affirmation of one’s identity, on diversity as enrichment; the echoes of the twenty years of fascism still propagate all around, but we are also witnessing the first libertarian pushes of daughters, wives and mothers who begin to imagine an alternative to the patriarchal society that has kept them at bay until then. Marta is one of them and she knows well that Italy needs rebirth “courageous, strong and motivated women” like her and not of “flabby females”. It is no coincidence that this search for freedom passes through the clicking of fingers on the keys of a typewriter, an almost manifesto image.