I’m one of those who refuse to believe in the existence of Italian cinema (except for Rossellini and Antonioni). So all the greater was my surprise in literally uncovering Fille d’Amour, which it seems the specialists in Italianities didn’t care for at all (assuming they bothered to see it). Fille d’Amour, subtitled, for some reason which escapes me, Traviata 53, is no more and no less than a modern adaptation of La Dame aux Camélias; I must note: 1) that it does not contain any lack of taste, much the opposite; 2) that squalor and miserabilism have no place in it; 3) that for the first time, Barbara Laage acts, that is, she moves, is moved, laughs, cries and hops around; 4) that director Vittorio Cottafavi, of whose work we in Paris have only seen Milady et les mousquetaires [Il boia di Lilla], managed to acquit himself more than honorably, and that his Fille d’Amour has made me irresistibly think of Cronaca di un amore. Italian production — more invasive each day — is thus giving us, as American production often does, surprises as wonderful as they are unexpected in the thankless but prestigious domain of B or C films. Or so we’re left to hope.
Cahiers du cinéma, 36, June 1954, p. 60.
Traviata 53 (Vittorio Cottafavi, 1953)