A Special Day

Perhaps the central metaphor in Francesca Comencini’s A Special Day is the synchronized behaviour to which capitalism forces even the individualists. The film traces the meeting of pretty 19-year-old Gina, whose aspirations to be an actress have led to this job as a congressman’s “escort,” and Marco, a loser who’s excited about his future on this first day of his job as chauffeur. Both are economic outsiders, living on the fringe of Rome, but both aspire to get to the hub.

As they idle away the day together, waiting for the congressman to be free, Gina’s first idea is to visit a synchronized swimming competition. Her expensive dress and stiletto heels may set her apart from the plebeians in the audience, but her difference and the others'  attention give her a panic attack. She senses the danger of so distinguishing herself.  Later she synchronizes a school of fish by running her finger up and down their glass cage. But her power is illusory, as we see when in her wild independence she gets a fish tattoo behind her ear and when she brusquely services the congressman. She's his fish. That brusqueness dispels our sense of her idealism. For all her worldliness and free spirit, she’s still trapped in the system that exploits even  — especially — the beautiful. 

Even the heroes’ mothers are trapped. Gina’s mother obviously makes great sacrifices to dream of her daughter’s stardom. She must understand the sordid reality behind her daughter’s urgent shower at the end. Marco’s mother gives the priest free mending and sewing services in hopes he will advance her nebbish son. 

The mothers will persist in their illusions because that’s what mothers do. But our heroes may awaken as a result of this day. The film opens with Rome awakening, first with the street sounds -- mainly dogs -- behind the dark credit backgrounds, then with the dawn. It ends at night, with Marco yet again messing up his career hopes by quitting his job and Gina idly absorbed in the fantasy world of her TV. She's watching some political demonstration but on the fantasy medium. Whether they form a romantic union or not, neither one seems likely to fulfill themselves in this world. As we cling to the possibility of a romantic ending we prove as delusional as them. Marco proudly blows his rare job opportunity but Gina — by blowing not her job — arguably fares even worse, in self-respect.

All three Comencini directors enjoy youth and beauty and centre their stories on that attraction.  But they know the real world doesn’t fairly respect even those thus gifted. That bleak insight proves the neorealist streak underpinning the romantic fantasy.