Mark Reviews Movies: THE LIFE AHEAD

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Review by Mark Dujsik | November 5, 2020

A young and orphaned boy, a Muslim immigrant to Italy from Senegal, strikes up a seemingly unlikely bond with an older, Jewish woman, who survived the Holocaust and was formerly a sex worker. The story of The Life Ahead, adapted from Romain Gary's novel (previously adapted to film in 1977 as Madame Rosa), is rich with potential. The screenplay by director Edoardo Ponti and Ugo Chiti (with collaborations from Fabio Natale) never quite taps into it.

The bulk of the movie's success comes from its two central performances. Newcomer Ibrahima Gueye plays Momo (short for Mohammed), the orphan, and Sophia Loren, returning to the big screen for the first time in 11 years, plays Madame Rosa, the older woman whose character is basically a minor twist on the "hooker with a heart of a gold" cliché. There's quite a bit of cliché in this tale, or at least, it feels that way, since so much of what we could have seen in, from, and between these characters is sidestepped in order to arrive at some third-act melodrama.

There's nothing quite so simplistic in these performances, though. Gueye possesses youthful energy and rebellious charm to spare as Momo, a kid who feels as if he has no place in this world and has adapted an attitude that's best described as cynical pragmatism. He's convinced he won't make much money in any legitimate way now or in the future, so Momo is going to enjoy whatever cash he earns selling drugs for a local drug dealer (played by Massimiliano Rossi).

The boy, whose thoughts drive the story forward through narration, has accepted that success and happiness won't come to him. If it does, that's all the better, but when it doesn't, he's prepared for what he more or less perceives as an inevitability.

The story here belongs to Momo, who starts his journey toward feeling a bit better about himself and his place in the world in the care of Dr. Coen (Renato Carpentieri), a kindly man who became the boy's guardian after a "tragedy," believing Momo would have a better chance with him than in the system of social services. Momo does the best he can, attending school and keeping out of serious trouble, but he's also trying to get a job with the crime lord and occasionally steals to get in the dealer's good graces.

That's how he meets Rosa, nabbing a couple of candlesticks from her while she shops at a street market. Rosa is struggling herself, currently caring for two boys, the sons of sex workers who can't afford the time, attention, or money to raise them. After learning of Momo's thievery, the doctor makes the boy apologize (which he does with more than a bit of sarcasm) to Rosa, who knows the kid is insincere and believes he's just born trouble. Coen makes a proposition: He'll pay Rosa to take in Momo for two months, during which time he'll learn from the example of a strong, strict, and, deep down, affectionate woman (In the absence of such a figure in his life, Momo imagines a lioness—fierce but loving—as his caretaker). After some negotiating on the price, Rosa accepts.

The core of this tale, ignoring a few subplots (the stuff with the drug dealer, which thankfully doesn't lead to some kind of unnecessary or violent conflict, and Momo's relationship with a local shopkeeper, played by Babak Karimi, who gives the boy a legitimate job, teaches him a bit about Islam, and offers some encouragement), is the growing relationship between Momo and Rosa. It begins with animosity and even some antagonism, but as Momo slowly learns about Rosa's past and her current health problems, he starts showing some care for her. In return, Rosa starts to see Momo as just another child in pain, lashing out against and defying a world he believes has abandoned him.

It's a solid, if familiar, setup, and while the focus is primarily on Momo's growth, Loren gives Rosa enough heft in personality and depth in her own pain that the character almost feels as important to this story. Rosa's health decline results in moments in which she seems to lose a sense of time and place—staring off at nothing in the distance or frantically packing her suitcase, believing that someone is coming to get her. The effectiveness of Loren's performance is in the dichotomy of these two states—robust in her fully aware condition but frail and vulnerable in her other one.

A lot seems omitted or overlooked here, though, as Ponti and Chiti bring this tale toward an almost inevitable conclusion. Momo does learn to be more responsible for himself, his actions, and his relationships (almost giving up when his makeshift family unexpectedly dwindles), while Rosa's condition gradually and then suddenly worsens. We know where it's heading, but the screenplay seems to rush toward suggesting and finally providing that climax.

Perhaps, though, it's not necessarily the filmmakers' problem. Maybe it just seems that way, because we do want more from and time with these characters, because the performances offer more depth than the story actually provides for them. Either way, The Life Ahead begins as a tender and touching study of these characters and the growing bond between them, but its move toward melodrama doesn't fulfill that early promise.

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