Okay, settle in, grab a metaphorical comfy armchair, maybe pour yourself something warm. We're digging into a corner of the video store shelf that perhaps didn't always shout the loudest, but held treasures nonetheless. Remember those slightly worn boxes, often imports, hinting at stories beyond the usual Hollywood fare? Today, we’re pulling out Mario Monicelli’s 1986 gem, Let's Hope It's a Girl (or Speriamo che sia femmina for the purists). It’s a film that carries the gentle weight of Tuscan sunshine mixed with the undeniable complexities of family life, a truly resonant piece of Italian cinema that found its way onto discerning VHS shelves.
What strikes you first, perhaps, isn't explosive action or high-concept sci-fi, but the lived-in atmosphere of a sprawling farmhouse. This isn't just a setting; it's practically a character in itself – a matriarchal haven run, managed, and held together almost entirely by women. We meet Elena (Liv Ullmann, bringing her signature quiet intensity honed in films like Persona (1966)), the nominal head of this unconventional household. She shares the rambling estate, and its precarious finances, with her pragmatic sister-in-law Fosca (Athina Cenci, who snagged a David di Donatello award for her role here), her own daughters – the restless Malvina (Giuliana De Sio) and the younger Martina (Cecilia Dazzi) – her glamorous, visiting movie star sister Claudia (Catherine Deneuve, radiating effortless chic even amidst rural life), her young granddaughter, and the stoic housekeeper Franca (Stefania Sandrelli). It’s a bustling ecosystem of female energy, resilience, and shared burdens.
### The Unreliable Orbit of Men
Into this largely self-sufficient world orbit the men, often sources of affection but almost invariably sources of complication or outright chaos. Elena’s estranged husband, the charming but utterly irresponsible Count Leonardo (Philippe Noiret, a master of conveying weary exasperation), drifts back into their lives, full of grand, ill-conceived plans. Then there’s the aging, lecherous Uncle Gugo (Bernard Blier, another legend of French and Italian cinema, absolutely pitch-perfect and also award-winning here), whose presence is tolerated with a kind of weary resignation. Even the dependable farmhand Nardoni (Giuliano Gemma, known more for Spaghetti Westerns but fitting in well) represents a connection to a world operating on different, often frustrating, principles.
The genius of the film, and Mario Monicelli’s direction, lies in how it portrays these dynamics. Monicelli, a veteran master of the Commedia all'italiana (think Big Deal on Madonna Street (1958)), understood instinctively how to blend genuine warmth and observational humor with moments of piercing drama and social commentary. He wasn't just making a "women's picture"; he was exploring the shifting sands of gender roles and family structures in 80s Italy, but with a universally relatable touch. The screenplay, crafted by a dream team including Monicelli himself, Tullio Pinelli (a frequent Fellini collaborator), and Suso Cecchi d'Amico (Bicycle Thieves (1948)), is rich with nuance, allowing each character their moment, their perspective, their flaws, and their strength.
### A Constellation of Talent
The performances are uniformly superb. Liv Ullmann provides the film's anchor, her Elena a study in quiet endurance, her face conveying volumes even in silence. Catherine Deneuve, seemingly imported from a different, glossier world, finds surprising depth in Claudia, revealing the vulnerabilities beneath the movie-star facade. It's fascinating to see these two titans of European cinema share the screen, their different energies creating a compelling dynamic. Philippe Noiret and Bernard Blier, frequent collaborators themselves, are wonderful as the problematic male figures – embodying charm, frustration, and ultimately, a kind of sad inadequacy in this female-dominated sphere.
One delightful piece of trivia: Monicelli was nearly 70 when he directed Let's Hope It's a Girl, and it became a significant critical and commercial success, sweeping the David di Donatello Awards (Italy's Oscars) with seven wins, including Best Film, Director, Screenplay, Supporting Actor (Blier), and Supporting Actress (Cenci). It was proof, if any were needed, that his sharp eye and humane perspective remained undimmed. While perhaps not a blockbuster title screaming from the "New Releases" wall at Blockbuster back in the day, finding this on VHS felt like uncovering something special, a film carrying the weight of real life, real relationships, real struggles, all bathed in that beautiful, sometimes unforgiving, Tuscan light. The location shooting isn't just background; it's integral to the film's soul, grounding the sometimes-theatrical family drama in tangible reality.
### Enduring Questions, Lasting Warmth
Does the film feel dated? Perhaps in some surface details, but its core concerns – the complexities of family obligation, the search for autonomy, the resilience required to simply keep things going, the bittersweet blend of love and exasperation that defines so many relationships – feel remarkably current. What does it mean to build a life, a sanctuary, when the foundations are constantly being rattled by external (and internal) forces? How do we navigate the messy dependencies that tie us together, even when we might wish for independence?
Let's Hope It's a Girl doesn't offer easy answers. It presents life, particularly the lives of these women, with honesty, affection, and a clear-eyed understanding of the compromises often required. It finds humor not in gags, but in the recognizable absurdity of human behavior, and drama not in melodrama, but in the quiet heartbreaks and hard-won triumphs of everyday existence.
Rating: 8.5/10
This score reflects the film's exceptional ensemble cast, the masterful balance of comedy and drama achieved by Monicelli and the writers, and its insightful, humane portrayal of family and female resilience. It might lack the immediate hook of some 80s fare, but its depth and warmth offer a richer, more lasting reward. It’s a film that lingers, like the scent of cypress trees after a rain shower, leaving you with a profound appreciation for the messy, complicated, and ultimately essential bonds of kinship. A true gem worth seeking out from the golden age of Italian cinema that graced our VHS players.