Divina creatura has the feel of a high-class soap opera (as did Luciano Zuccoli’s novel on which the film is based) set inside a commendably reconstructed historical period: that of early 1920s aristocratic Italy, a world imbued with boredom and a lack of ideals. It is the perfect way to gain a greater understanding of an era that favoured the rise of Fascism. The attention to detail is enhanced by the sumptuous settings and amazing costumes. Added to that, we have the music of Morricone and the photography of Giuseppe Rotunno, both impeccable as ever. And of course, connoisseurs of such matters are bound to remember the seven minutes of a fully naked Laura Antonelli lying on a sofa smoking a cigarette. A milestone in cinematic eroticism.
A duke falls in love with a woman of inferior lineage and is shocked to discover that she casually sidelines as a prostitute. In reality, it was the duke’s cousin who introduced her to life in brothels. A turbid love triangle ensues, from which she will flee in disgust, driving the duke to suicide.