In Borgo San Giuliano, a village near Rimini, spring announces itself with fluffy poplar seeds drifting on the breeze, and as night falls the square fills for fogheraccia, a communal bonfire that burns the segavecchia, the effigy of an old woman. The townspeople fill the air with laughter, pranks, fireworks, and the raucous energy of a civic history lesson being delivered as part of the tradition. Against this backdrop, Gradisca, Magali Noël, becomes the crush of [Titta], Bruno Zanin, injecting a flutter of romance into a town used to routine and ritual. The atmosphere mixes merriment with the strains of the era, where the private yearnings of youth collide with the public iconography of a regime.
The school under Fascism unfolds as a tedious cavalcade of dry facts recited by instructors of varying engagement and skill. [Titta], [Bruno Zanin], and his classmates can do little more than goof off or skip class between bursts of arithmetic or dates that matter to the navigator of history. The classroom becomes a stage for small rebellions, whispered schemes, and the itch of adolescence, where confession rooms and growing curiosity share the same calendar. When confession time arrives, [Titta] avoids revealing his private moments and his budding interest in [Gradisca], choosing instead to let the priest linger on floral arrangements rather than moral specifics.
Fascist officials come for a tour, and the schoolkids are pressed into athletic routines for approval. In the chaos, Teo, Aurelio’s brother who is confined to an asylum, stands as a figure of daydreams and watchful eyes. A giant papier-mâché rendering of Mussolini’s face looms near the crowd, while a gramophone hidden in the church bell tower briefly fills the air with The Internationale before it’s shot at and silenced by gunfire. Owing to his anarchist past, [Aurelio], [Armando Brancia], is pulled aside for questioning and forced to drink castor oil, hobbling home only to be bathed by his wife, Miranda, in a haze of worry and care.
The family later spends a day with Uncle Teo, a moment that reveals both affection and the fragility of a man who oscillates between sanity and dream. Teo, in his own world, yells for companionship and companionship becomes an almost mythic pursuit. > Voglio una donna! The scene is punctuated by a sense of longing and the surreal, as Teo is gently guided back toward the asylum by those who love him.
As autumn arrives, the town gathers to greet the voyage of the SS Rex, the regime’s celebrated achievement on the sea. The crowd, half-asleep in small boats, watches as the liner glides past and capsizes their hopeful little flotilla in its wake. Titta’s grandfather drifts through thick fog that muffles house and landscape alike, and the Grand Hotel stands shuttered and inaccessible, leaving the youth to wander the terrace with imaginary partners in a fog-drenched waltz. The annual car race then becomes a doorway to another dream for Titta: the chance to win the grand prize, Gradisca, the object of his youthful devotion, as he attempts feats of strength that blur the line between bravado and tenderness.
In the town’s dimly lit shops, the tobacconist is a focal point for desire and tension. The Tobacconist, Maria Antonietta Beluzzi, is the subject of a charged exchange as she clocks the boy’s bravado and his awkward flirtation. He demonstrates his strength to lift her, but the moment is complicated by her knowing gaze and the intimate proximity of her response, which leaves him both exhilarated and unsettled before sending him on his way with a cigarette in hand.
Winter arrives with heavy snow, and Miranda nurses a sick Titta back to health, only for the family’s rhythm to be shattered when she dies, leaving a void that reshapes the boy’s world. The cycle of seasons closes with a quiet, devastating return to Gradisca’s life: a reception for her marriage to a Carabiniere. The town gathers in a careful hush, Gradisca departs with her new husband, and someone notices that [Titta] has vanished as well, his own chapter seemingly drawing to a close as the seasons turn once more.