‘Diva Futura’ Review: An Unconvincingly Bouncy Biopic of an Idealistic Italian Pornographer

As a movie enthusiast with a penchant for delving into the complexities of human nature and the entertainment industry, I found “Diva Futura” to be a rather disappointing watch. The film seemed to dance around the deeper issues that propelled Riccardo Schicchi’s rise and fall, much like a peeping Tom who averts his gaze when things get too real.


Porn king Riccardo Schicchi was, according to Giulia Louise Steigerwalt‘s bubbly, shallow “Diva Futura,” named after Schicchi’s now-defunct multimedia adult-entertainment enterprise, a really sweet guy.  Moreover, the film insists, his vision for pornography was similarly wholesome: a means to liberate prudish late-20th century Italian society by celebrating the beauty of women as he saw it — with the dazzled, goofy gaze of the permanent adolescent peering through an uncurtained bedroom window. 

However, what might have appeared innocently naive in a person’s actions can come across as superficially simplistic in a film that fails to delve deeply into the powerful factors driving his sudden rise and seemingly innocent descent. This is similar to Schicchi, who, having been given a telescope by his father who was open to adult content, could choose to avoid viewing when women were dressed or behind closed curtains.

The movie jumps erratically through time, starting us in the heart of the story where Riccardo (Pietro Castellitto) is shocked by an unexpected death. “It devoured her head,” he says, looking distraught off-screen. “It devoured her head,” repeats Debora (Barbara Ronchi), his secretary who wrote the memoir that Steigerwalt used as a basis for his unquestioning, affectionate screenplay. This is a misdirection – the deceased is not a person but a pet snake. In essence, Steigerwalt is signaling from the outset that this film will be a humorous, light-hearted adventure, with perhaps a few moments of sentimental sadness to provide depth.

The movie portrays Schicchi as an early pioneer in the adult film industry, achieving initial fame by working with his girlfriend Ilona Staller (Lidija Kordić) to transform her into La Cicciolina, a symbol of the flower-crowned hippie era who capitalized on her free-love image. However, their relationship ends when she leaves him for artist Jeff Koons, as the film later reveals. Despite this heartbreak, Schicchi becomes convinced that his exceptional skill lies in the creation and promotion of female adult entertainers, a relatively novel concept at the time. His abilities prove valid as he goes on to cultivate the even more successful career of Moana (played by Denise Capezza). To this day, 22 years after her death, Moana remains such an iconic figure in Italy that Disney altered the title of their 2016 film and renamed the lead character to prevent potential confusion.

Instead of Moana, it’s another upcoming starlet named Éva Henger (Tesa Litvan) who captures Riccardo’s heart next. From their initial meeting, he becomes smitten with her, leading to their marriage. However, the film glosses over their marital issues, including a hypocritical act where Riccardo forbids Éva from engaging in pornography. Despite this restriction, she is still allowed to partake in his other endeavors such as strip clubs, calendar shoots, and risqué promotional activities. These ventures aid in the development of the Diva Futura brand, and in the film’s fast-paced editing style, they speed through the years like a flurry of boobs and camaraderie.

The tone remains insistently breezy, the better to flutter through Andrea Cavalletto’s sumptuous yet scanty costuming, even when it takes a turn for the tragic as the agency’s fortunes stumble and diabetic Riccardo’s health begins to fail, and even when describing disturbing incidents. The collapse of one of Schicchi’s girls at his club is mentioned in passing, and the multiple casting-couch rapes that Moana endured when trying to make it as a legitimate actress, is covered as a jokey contrast to how good she had it in Riccardo’s stable. But there is something unconvincing about being buoyed along by Vladan Radovic’s happy, sunsplashed photography to the conclusion that Schicchi built his erotic empire entirely on guilelessness, as the type of dreamer who’d give over a room at his office for the exclusive use of stray cats and rabbits.

The porn industry isn’t just about exploitation and degradation, but in every close-up of Schicchi, who looks like a confused puppy after being scolded for misbehaving, it seems as if he might be saying “I’ve always dreamed of becoming a pornographer.” However, the portrayal of the ‘Goodfellas’ in the porn industry has already been depicted, and comparing Steigerwalt’s film to Paul Thomas Anderson’s “Boogie Nights” highlights its lack of complexity and its unwillingness to question itself.

Schicchi might have been admired by many for his charisma, yet his fascination with women was more about their physical appearance rather than recognizing them as individuals. This is similar to the excessive adoration seen in some pornographic genres that dehumanizes women. It’s intriguing that his reaction to Moana’s political ambition and her conservative views catches him off guard, or when he distracts from a financial disagreement with his wife by complimenting her looks instead of addressing the issue at hand, only to make a disastrous investment. These instances are portrayed as signs of Schicchi’s innocent simplicity, but it’s ironic that “Diva Futura” also reduces women to passive, one-dimensional figures in a similar way.

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2024-09-07 11:46