"Every time we speak about love, it makes me hungry."
Ravished by reactionary censorship, which muddles theme and flow, Lattuada's coming-of-age tale nonetheless retains its tone of absolute dread. Equally loose and eloquent as films by contemporaries Pietrangeli, Bolognini, and Zurlini, utilizing all that modern Italy has to offer, yet differentiated by an eschewal of humor. sa, on her spiritual way to adolescence, glides solemnly through alleys and corridors, forcing herself into the role of observer, yet has the weight of expectation, of perceived necessity, of inevitability, attached to her every step, for each gets her closer to it.
With the film, Lattuada cements himself as one of those great tertiary Italian directors, who, protean by nature, could, in that…