To Be Twenty (1978)

To Be Twenty is the kind of 1970s Italian film that starts as a sunlit, rebellious sex-comedy and then quietly reveals itself as something sharper and far more unsettling—a time capsule of post–free-love disillusionment shot with Fernando Di Leo’s streetwise grit. Gloria Guida and Lilli Carati have an easy, combustible chemistry that makes their friendship feel alive in every glance and dare, and the movie’s Rome-side detours carry a nervy, anything-can-happen energy. Beneath the bawdy surface, it’s watching the era’s promises curdle into exploitation, with Di Leo’s eye for opportunists, hustlers, and the thin line between “freedom” and being used. It’s not for everyone—especially given the film’s notorious violence and the existence of heavily cut versions—but if you want a provocative, conversation-starting ride that refuses to stay a harmless comedy, this one lingers.

To Be Twenty wants to be a cheeky, counterculture road comedy about two young women chasing freedom and discovering how quickly “free love” turns into exploitation in 1970s Italy. The problem is it plays like a sleazy bait-and-switch: the early, breezy sex-farce tone collides with increasingly ugly cynicism, and depending on the cut you see, it can lurch into extreme sexual violence that feels more punishing than purposeful. If you’re expecting a light comedy or even a playful erotic romp, this will likely feel nasty, dated, and emotionally sour, with the shock elements overshadowing any social commentary. The redeeming value is that Di Leo captures a grimy, lived-in slice of the era and the leads have real screen presence, but it’s absolutely a “know what you’re signing up for” watch, not a casual one.