There she is, waving from the backseat of a convertible on the eve of the Cannes Film Festival. And here she is again, stepping to the tarmac from a jet in Paris, her scarf billowing perfectly in the evening breeze. And again, cloaked in emerald — dress and rings, both — in her villa outside Rome.
An actor, yes, but somehow Gina Lollobrigida was always more than just that.
As Italy was pulling itself from the rubble of World War II and the grinding oppression of fascism, Lollobrigida emerged as the face of la dolce vita, a siren beckoning Romans to once again indulge, celebrate and embrace.
