COSTUMES, CONFIDENCES AND THE
CANOVA SISTERS SPARKLE LIKE DIAMONDS
Director Ferzan Özpetek’s latest dramedy, Diamonds, is about to open at the Walter Reade Theater at Lincoln Center, and I had the pleasure of getting an early view. I knew it centered on a costume atelier reminiscent of the legendary Umberto Tirelli’s, and I immediately thought of Paul Thomas Anderson’s Phantom Thread, smiling because an Özpetek’s film will never be that soft-spoken, ever so slightly menacing. It likely featured long tables overflowing with exquisite food, surrounded by the most fascinating assortment of people having a great time. And I was right, in part.
In this work, Özpetek intertwines reality and a dreamlike dimension. Although slightly autobiographical, it is not an exercise in neorealism but something far more atmospheric and poetic. From the very beginning, he openly conveys his deep affection and professional admiration for the women he has collaborated with throughout his career, a praise that feels grounded in genuine respect. In fact, he personally called upon 18 of them, and the film opens in the present day with all of them gathered for a reading of the film within the film. “A vaginodrome,” as Geppi Cucciari, one of the actresses, puts it.
Framed by the present but rooted almost entirely in the Seventies, Diamonds springs from Özpetek’s own memories as a young assistant director, drifting through the lively, sacred spaces of Rome’s costume tailor shops. These rooms, humming with rolls of fabric, color swatches, buttons, trims, and laces, were filled with brilliant women whose rituals and complicity left a lasting imprint. Together, they created not only gorgeous costumes but a form of quiet resistance against disempowerment. Özpetek’s nostalgia here is not escapism but a form of reverence towards cinema, the art of costume making, and women.
The film within the film starts and we meet the Canova Sisters, bound by love, divided by everything else: the authoritarian Alberta, played by Luisa Ranieri, and the vulnerable Gabriella, played by Jasmine Trinca. Alberta thinks only in bold stitches and big deals to make their tailor shop the place in Rome for the best costume designers. Gabriella, her emotional counterweight, is more attuned to the staff and still quietly grieving the loss of her daughter. Both actresses are superb: Ranieri possesses a captivating fusion of timeless grace and the no-nonsense intensity of a drill sergeant, ideal for the role. Trinca, instead, reveals emotions layer by delicate layer, never theatrical, always deeply felt, and the result is magnetic.
In the Seventies, while the outside world tried to stitch women into rigid roles, inside the Canova sisters’ atelier women tailored their own identities. At the heart of the shop is the head seamstress Nina (Paola Minaccioni, who can deliver punch lines or drama with equal precision). Her teenage son has locked himself away in his room, lost in an existential crisis he can’t quite put into words. Eleonora (Lunetta Savino), the embroiderer, finds herself at odds with her niece Beatrice (Aurora Giovinazzo), a fiery, creative spirit; Carlotta (Nicole Grimaudo), the dyer, brings color to everything with her art and attitude, trying over and over to get the right shade; Paolina (Anna Ferzetti), the milliner, under financial strain, juggles feathers and trims as a single mother to little Simone, now hiding in the shop for lack of a babysitter.
At home, Nicoletta (Milena Mancini), a seamstress with nimble hands and a broken spirit, endures the violence of her husband Bruno; Giuseppina (Sara Bosi), the newest apprentice, arrives wide-eyed and eager, unaware of the emotional labyrinth she’s just stepped into, while Fausta (Geppi Cucciari), wry and worldly, navigates it with sarcasm. She embodies the strength and determination that characterize the Canova sisters. And then there’s Silvana (Mara Venier), the cook, the warm-hearted mother of everybody in the shop, who serves up advice and lasagne with equal grace, always ready with a kind word and an embrace.
When Bianca Vega (Vanessa Scalera), an Oscar-winning costume designer, arrives at the atelier with a rush order for a major film, the atmosphere turns electric. To add more voltage, rival divas Alida Borghese (Carla Signoris), the grande dame of theatre, and Sofia Volpi (Kasia Smutniak), cinema’s reigning star, are carefully scheduled never to meet to avoid a showdown. Alberta’s carefully stitched life begins to fray and if you thought she had enough troubles running the shop under these circumstances, wait: Leonardo, an old flame who abandoned her in Paris a decade before, suddenly reappears. He was married at the time and still is with Rita (Loredana Cannata).
The Canova Sisters, in their free time, find a semblance of family routine with their sharp-tongued Aunt Olga (Milena Vukotic), whose weekly lunches offer both comfort and disagreement. Giselda Volodi plays Franca Zinzi, a famous theatre costume designer, and Elena Sofia Ricci plays herself, appearing only at the beginning and at end of the film. Every actress is sublime, each performance seamlessly in harmony with the others. It felt like a true ensemble, an 18-voice chorus.
And the men? They circle the story like distant satellites, visible, occasionally intriguing, but rarely in sharp focus. Stefano Accorsi brings flair to the role of the film’s perpetually unsatisfied director, all ego and exasperation; Vinicio Marchioni’s Bruno, Nicoletta’s violent husband, teeters on the edge of caricature, though the emotional weight remains; musician Luca Barbarossa, in a rare acting appearance, lends grace to Gabriella’s kind-hearted husband, Lucio. With Edoardo Purgatori’s Ennio, the atelier’s ever-faithful right hand, and Carmine Recano’s Leonardo, Alberta’s ex, they all serve more as elegant plot devices than fully realized characters. In Diamonds, the men exist not to shine but to serve in a world very clearly, and unapologetically, stitched by women.
Like many films these days, Diamonds might have shone a bit brighter with a tighter editing, and its finale, a lyrical, meta-cinematic reflection by the director, lands with more poetry than punch, making the end a bit anti-climactic. Still, it’s an entertaining ride well worth the watch. Beyond its gifted ensemble, the film sparkles thanks to a sharp, playful screenplay by Özpetek, Carlotta Corradi, and Elisa Casseri; luminous cinematography by Gian Filippo Corticelli; and the refined costumes and sets by Stefano Ciammitti and Deniz Kobanbay. With elegance and ease, it navigates weighty themes through wit, charm, and visual panache. Not to be overlooked, the evocative score by Giuliano Taviani and Carmelo Travia; each time the unmistakable voice of Italy’s iconic singer Mina drifted in, my soul couldn’t help but smile.
stills courtesy of Outsider Pictures
Diamonds / Diamanti
Outsider Pictures
screened in NY by Open Roads: New Italian Cinema at Lincoln Center
2024 | Italy | 135 min| Italian with English subtitles
in release Fall, 2025
