Una Giornata particolare on television, strong as it was ten years ago. The rhythm, the décor, and the acting - by Mastroianni and Loren, underplayed and never off-key - are seamless and sad, hopeless, scary. The "music", rather, the 'fond sooner', is like that in Orfeu Negro, which used the faraway but ceaseless sound of sambas in manic celebration of Mardi Gras. Here it's the faraway but ceaseless sound of radio reports on Hitler's 1938 visit to Rome. I was upset by the expertise.