To some, liberation means coups or bra burnings. To Rosalba Barletta, heroine of the film "Bread and Tulips," liberation means working as a florist and playing the accordion.
The Italian film "Bread and Tulips" follows the inner emotional journey of hassled housewife Rosalba (played by Licia Maglietta). The Barletta family is touring ruins in the Italian countryside. When their tour bus stops at a rest area, Rosalba is horrified to discover she has dropped her diamond earring in the toilet. Upon retrieving the earring, she discovers the tour group has left. When her husband finally calls hours later, he blames the entire episode on her.
While bumming a ride home, Rosalba, in one of the defining moments of her life, decides to take a chance. She is tired of constantly being overlooked by her husband and two sons. It is time she took her own vacation - to Venice. A trip originally intended to last a day or two gets stretched into months. Rosalba finds employment with an eccentric elderly florist and companionship and lodging with the kindly Fernando Girasoli (Bruno Ganz).
When Rosalba's husband Mimmo finally realizes she is not planning to return anytime soon (and finds his long-time mistress unwilling to clean his house) he employs the services of Constantino, a rotund plumber who has read "285 and a half detective novels." This is sufficient background, reasons Mimmo, for the retrieval of his wife. What Mimmo does not realize, however, is that Rosalba is not so willing to be found.
Beautifully shot on location in Venice, "Bread and Tulips" delivers a sweet tale of finding love and oneself in a foreign land. Director Silvio Soldini reunites for the second time with leading lady Maglietta, achieving wonderful results. During scenes with her unappreciative family, Rosalba appears harried and tense; in Venice, she glows. When Rosalba is with Fernando or playing the accordion she finds in his closet, she feels increasingly special and fulfilled, bringing more life to those around her. Indeed, when she is briefly called away, the environment she has touched withers, including, in a bittersweet sequence, the last bunch of tulips she has left for Fernando.
Such changes are shown not only in her countenance, but also in her clothing. Costumer Silvia Nebiola wraps Rosalba in numerous floral prints. As Rosalba becomes happier, her clothing becomes more form fitting and stylish. While sightseeing at the beginning of the movie, Rosalba is quite the dowdy tourist - complete with spandex leggings, fanny pack and sunglasses. By the end, flowers are in her hair, on her dress, and a smile is on her face. It seems Rosalba herself finally has bloomed into the woman she was meant to become.
Of course, such liberation does not come without a price. Rosalba still has an obligation to her teenaged sons. The film tries to address this through a series of increasingly nonsensical dreams, but ultimately Rosalba shirks this duty in exchange for personal happiness. This point is a bit difficult for the audience to navigate. As much as one wants Rosalba to remain in Venice, one feels concerned about the effect her absence has on her sons, one of whom has started using marijuana. The ending seems a bit too tidy for the complicated world in which Rosalba lives.
Maglietta puts in a lovely performance as Rosalba, expertly conveying the character's uncertainty and genuine joy at being on her own for the first time in years. Also amusing is a side plot involving Rosalba's new neighbor Grazia, a "holistic beautician and masseuse" and the bumbling plumber dispatched to find Rosalba. The plumber/detective, as played by Giuseppe Battiston, could be called an Italian version of Chris Farley.
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At times the film lags, particularly while Constantino is trying to track down Rosalba. Though played for comedic effect, it hurts the film's pacing. Dalliances easily forgiven, however, include Fernando's walk through Venice, escorting his young grandson to school. Churches, canals, docks ... all appear beautiful. One understands why Rosalba is hesitant to leave such a place.
As with any foreign film, a certain degree of charm is lost in translation. While lilting dialogue is being exchanged onscreen, the subtitles read, "I will retrieve you some sheets." This, however, is inescapable and certainly not detracting.
"Bread and Tulips," though shaky with regards to length, pace and realism, delivers a lovely look into the city of Venice and the soul of a woman.