Claudia Cardinale is Italy’s counterpart to France’s Brigitte Bardot. She quickly rose to stardom to almost just as quickly disappear from the scene later on. Now, Claudia Cardinale celebrates her 85th birthday.
The Italian star was originally discovered at a beauty contest held in 1957 by the Unitalia film company. The “most beautiful Italian woman of Tunis” subsequently won a trip to the Venice Film Festival that was to become a decisive turning point in her life. The sultry young woman was born on April 15, 1938, in Tunis, the capital of Tunisia. Her mother was French, and her father Italian.
In 1958, Cardinale, known as CC, played her first role in “Goha” opposite Omar Sharif before being trained as an actress at the Italian Film Academy in Rome. Her talents as an actress renowned for her dauntless rambunctiousness gained her fame, and her gaze into the camera became legendary.
Famous director Luchino Visconti gave her minor roles in “Rocco and his Brothers” (1960), as well as in the historical drama “The Leopard” (1962) with Alain Delon. As she later recounted in a biographical interview, she rebuffed all of her famous film partners, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Marcello Mastroianni, Alain Delon and Burt Lancaster.
A beauty queen turned into a film diva
Cardinale is Italy’s counterpart of Brigitte Bardot. But in contrast to Bardot, Cardinale never appeared nude in a film: “I always thought it was more erotic to leave some room to imagination, hinting at things rather than showing everything,” she told the German magazine Stern in 2014.
CC achieved her breakthrough with her performance in the highly popular Italo western “Once Upon a Time in the West” (1969). The classical western directed by Sergio Leone and starring Henry Fonda and Charles Bronson was shot in Rome’s Cinecittà studios and in Spain with some scenes set in Utah’s Monument Valley. The film that flopped in the US only acquired cult status in Europe.
CC’s career already saw a downswing in the 1970s. She then turned to television films, especially entertainment films where she showed some talent as a comedian. She got her last main role in a movie in 1971 when she starred opposite her main rival, Brigitte Bardot, in the Italo western comedy “Frenchie King.”
Spending time in a jungle with Werner Herzog
Ten years later, CC starred in German director Werner Herzog’s historical film “Fitzcarraldo” (1981). Although Claudia Cardinale had a difficult time enduring the bouts of anger of her eccentric film partner Klaus Kinski, she greatly enjoyed shooting and working with director Werner Herzog: “Being in the middle of the jungle with insects all around me and nothing to eat was one of my most wonderful adventures,” she later stated.
Claudia Cardinale and other heroines of European film
Claudia Cardinale is seen as Italy’s counterpart to France’s Brigitte Bardot. The actress who became a star in the 1950s and 60s now celebrates her 85th birthday.
Claudia Cardinale
She’s the youngest of Italy’s three major female stars. Claudia Cardinale worked with outstanding directors like Luchino Visconti and Federico Fellini. She fascinated audiences with her charming smile and acting skills in westerns, among them “Once Upon a Time in the West” and “The Professionals” (pictured).
Gina Lollobrigida
One of the most highly acclaimed European stars of the 1950s and 60s was Gina Lollobrigida who was born in the East of Rome in 1927. “Lollo” even made it to Hollywood where she was equally showered with praise. In the 1970s, however, she withdrew from showbiz.
Sophia Loren
Another Italian actress, Sophia Loren, who was a few years younger than Lollo, became her fiercest rival. The mutual hatred and jealousy of the two stars was a frequent topic in tabloids. In contrast to Lollobrigida, Sophia Loren continued to perform in movies even as an older woman.
Brigitte Bardot
During the same time, another sexpot rose to stardom in France with movies like “And God Created Woman” and “Love is my Profession.” Brigitte Bardot, the superstar of the Grande Nation, withdrew from film production in the 1970s to devote herself to animal rights causes.
Catherine Deneuve
A decade later, Bardot’s compatriot Catherine Deneuve broke onto the film scene. Deneuve differed much from both Loren and Lollo by playing roles as aloof and myterious women early in her career. Deneueve’s talent as an actress guaranteed her success throughout her life.
Romy Schneider
The two decades between 1960 and 1980 were also the golden era of German-French actress Romy Schneider. Born in Vienna, she made her breakthrough in the German-speaking world as “Sissi” before moving to France. In Paris, she became one of the most charismatic and impressive actresses of European film scene. But in her private life, she was anything but lucky. She died in 1982.
Penélope Cruz
One of the most famous Europen actresses in recent decades is Spanish actress Penélope Cruz. Cruz started her career in her home country before achieving fame in other European countries and, finally, Hollywood. Her performances received a lot of acclaim, especially in films by director Pedro Almodóvar, among them “Volver” (pictured).
Irene Papas
After 1945, actresses from smaller European nations were able to conquer the hearts of audiences across Europe. One of them was Irene Papas who is also renowned as a singer in her home country, Greece. She celebrated her biggest success in “Zorba the Greek” (1964) before also working in other European countries, and in Hollywood.
Tatjana Samoilova
While films from Italy, France, Germany and England dominated the film scene during the postwar era, it should not be forgotten that eastern Europe had much to offer too. One of the biggest female stars of Russian film was certainly Tatjana Samoilova who achieved world fame with the movie “The Cranes are Flying” (1957).
Krystyna Janda
Polish actress Krystyna Janda became known in the 1970s for her performances in films by Polish director Andrzej Wajda. She then performed in international co-productions with stars like Lino Ventura. In her home country, Krystyna Janda is also known as a singer and an an author.
In 1993, CC received a Golden Lion for lifetime achievement at the Venice Film Festival to be followed in 2002 by an “honorary bear” at the Berlinale. The spirited actress performed in more than 100 films.
In 2017, CC once again drew attention at an international film festival. A photo depicting her as a young actress embellished a placard in Cannes where she had often been invited as an honorary guest. On April 15, Claudia Cardinale will turn 80. Happy birthday!
This article was originally published April 15, 2018 and updated.
I Mourned My Wife for 5 Years – One Day, I Was Stunned to See the Same Flowers from Her Grave in the Kitchen Vase
I wasn’t sure if I was losing my mind or if something darker was haunting me. When I returned from the cemetery, the flowers I placed on my wife’s grave were waiting for me in the kitchen vase. I’d buried my wife and my guilt five years ago, but it felt like the past was clawing its way back to me.
The weight of grief never truly lifts. It’s been five years since I lost my wife, Winter, but the pain still feels fresh. Our daughter, Eliza, was just 13 when it happened. Now 18, she’s grown into a young woman who carries her mother’s absence like a silent shadow.
A concrete cross in a cemetery | Source: Pexels
I stared at the calendar, the circled date mocking me. Another year has gone by, and another anniversary was approaching. The pit in my stomach deepened as I called out to Eliza.
“I’m heading to the cemetery, dear.”
Eliza appeared in the doorway, indifference cloaking her eyes. “It’s that time again, isn’t it, Dad?”
I nodded, unable to find the words. What could I say? That I was sorry? That I missed her mother too? Instead, I grabbed my keys and headed out, leaving the silence to fill the space between us.
A calendar with a circled date | Source: Unsplash
The florist’s shop was a burst of color and fragrance. I approached the counter, my steps heavy.
“The usual, Mr. Ben?” the florist asked, her smile sympathetic.
“White roses. Just like always.”
As she wrapped the bouquet, I couldn’t help but remember the first time I’d bought Winter flowers. It was our third date, and I’d been so nervous I’d nearly dropped them.
A woman holding a bouquet of white roses | Source: Pexels
She’d laughed, her eyes sparkling, and said, “Ben, you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”
The memory faded as the florist handed me the roses. “Here you go, Mr. Ben. I’m sure she’d love them.”
“Thanks. I hope so.”
The cemetery was quiet, save for the rustle of leaves in the breeze. I made my way to Winter’s grave, each step feeling heavier than the last.
The black marble headstone came into view, her name etched in gold letters that seemed to shimmer in the weak sunlight.
A woman’s grave | Source: Midjourney
I knelt and placed the roses carefully against the stone. A pang of grief pierced my chest as my fingers traced the letters of her name.
“I miss you, Winter. God, I miss you so much.”
The wind picked up, sending a chill down my spine. For a moment, I could almost imagine it was her touch, her way of telling me she was still here.
But the cold reality settled in quickly. She was gone, and no amount of wishing would bring her back.
I stood up, brushing dirt from my knees. “I’ll be back next year, love. I promise.”
A bouquet of white roses on a gravestone | Source: Midjourney
As I walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different this time. But I pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to the ever-present grief playing tricks on my mind.
The house was quiet when I returned.I headed to the kitchen, desperately in need of a strong cup of coffee.
That’s when I saw them.
On the kitchen table, in a crystal vase I didn’t recognize, stood the same roses I had just left at Winter’s grave.
A bouquet of white roses in a glass vase | Source: Pexels
My heart began to race, pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. I stumbled forward, my hands shaking as I reached out to touch the petals. They were real, impossibly real.
“What the hell? Eliza!” I called out, my voice echoing through the empty house. “Eliza, are you here?”
I turned around, my eyes never leaving the roses. They were exactly the same as the ones I’d bought, with the same slight imperfections and the same dewdrops clinging to the petals.
It was impossible.
A startled man | Source: Midjourney
“This can’t be happening,” I whispered, backing away from the table. “This can’t be real.”
I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at those impossible roses. The sound of footsteps snapped me out of my trance.
“Dad? What’s wrong?”
I turned to see Eliza standing on the staircase, her eyes widening as she took in my pale face.
“What’s going on, Dad? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I pointed at the vase, my hand shaking. “Where did these roses come from, Eliza? Did you bring these home?”
A man pointing a finger | Source: Pexels
She shook her head, confusion clear on her face. “No, I’ve been out with friends. I just got back. What’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. “These are the exact same roses I left at your mother’s grave. Identical, Eliza. How is that possible?”
Eliza’s face paled, her eyes darting between me and the flowers. “That’s not possible, Dad. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I need to go back to the cemetery. Now.”
A stunned woman | Source: Pexels
The drive back to the cemetery was a blur. My mind raced with possibilities, each more unlikely than the last.
Had someone followed me? Had I imagined leaving the flowers earlier? Was I losing my mind?
Eliza was adamant about coming with me, but the ride was filled with an uncomfortable silence.
As we approached Winter’s grave, my heart sank. The spot where I’d carefully placed the roses was empty. No flowers and no sign that I’d been there at all.
A bare gravestone | Source: Pexels
“They’re gone. How can they be gone?”
Eliza knelt down, running her hand over the bare ground. “Dad, are you sure you left them here? Maybe you forgot—”
I shook my head vehemently. “No, I’m certain. I placed them right here, just a few hours ago.”
She stood up, her eyes meeting mine.
“Let’s go home, Dad. We need to figure this out.”
A young lady looking up | Source: Midjourney
Back at the house, the roses still sat on the kitchen table. Eliza and I stood on opposite sides, the flowers between us like a barrier.
“There has to be an explanation, Dad. Maybe Mom is trying to tell us something.”
I laughed. “Your mother is dead, Eliza. Dead people don’t send messages.”
“Then how do you explain this?” she shot back, gesturing at the roses. “Because I’m running out of logical explanations.”
A distressed man | Source: Pexels
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration and fear bubbling inside me. “I don’t know, Eliza! I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not… it can’t be…”
My voice trailed off as I noticed something tucked under the vase. A small, folded piece of paper I hadn’t seen before. With trembling hands, I reached for it.
“What is it, Dad?”
A note tucked beneath a bouquet of white roses | Source: Midjourney
I unfolded the note, my heart stopping as I recognized the handwriting. Winter’s handwriting.
“I know the truth, and I forgive you. But it’s time for you to face what you’ve hidden.”
The room spun, and I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself. “No, this can’t be—” I whispered.
A man holding a piece of paper bearing a message | Source: Midjourney
Eliza snatched the note from my hand, her eyes widening as she read it. “Dad, what truth? What have you hidden?”
The weight of five years of lies and guilt came crashing down on me. I sank into a chair, unable to meet Eliza’s eyes.
“Your mother,” I began, my voice cracking. “The night she died… it wasn’t just an accident.”
An upset man | Source: Pexels
Eliza’s sharp intake of breath cut through the silence. “What do you mean?”
I forced myself to look at her and face the pain in her eyes. “We had a fight that night. A big one. She found out I’d been having an affair.”
“An affair? You cheated on Mom?”
I nodded, shame burning in my chest. “It was a mistake, dear. A terrible mistake. I tried to end it, but your mother found out before I could. She was so angry and hurt. She stormed out of the house, got in the car—”
“And never came back,” Eliza finished, her voice cold.
A young lady looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“I never told anyone,” I continued, the words pouring out now. “I couldn’t bear for people to know the truth. To know that her death was my fault.”
Eliza was silent for a long moment, her eyes fixed on the roses. When she finally spoke, her voice was eerily calm.
“I knew, Dad!”
My head snapped up, disbelief engulfing me. “What do you mean, you knew?”
Close-up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney
Eliza’s eyes met mine, and I saw years of pain and anger burning in them.
“I’ve known for years, Dad. Mom told me everything before she left that night. I found her diary after she died. I’ve known all along.”
“You’ve known? All this time?”
She nodded, her jaw clenched. “I wanted you to admit it. I needed to hear you say it.”
A furious young woman | Source: Midjourney
Realization dawned on me, cold and horrifying. “The roses and the note? It was you?”
“I followed you to the cemetery and took the flowers from Mom’s grave. I wanted you to feel the betrayal and hurt she felt. I copied her handwriting and left this note with the flowers because I wanted you to know that you can’t hide from the truth forever.”
“Why now? After all these years?”
A stunned man covering his mouth | Source: Midjourney
Eliza’s eyes flicked to the calendar on the wall.
“Five years, Dad. Five years of watching you play the grieving widower while I carried the weight of your secret. I couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Eliza, I—”
“Mom forgave you. She wrote that in her diary. But I’m not sure I can,” Eliza cut me off, her words a dagger to my heart.
A diary on a table | Source: Pixabay
She turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with the roses, the same roses that had once symbolized love, now an ominous reminder of the deceit that had torn our family apart.
I reached out and touched a soft white petal, realizing that some wounds never truly heal. They wait, hidden beneath the surface until the truth forces them into the light.
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