Monica Vitti, immeasurable talent of Italian cinema, Michelangelo Antonioni‘s muse, and herself a writer and director, has died. She was 90 years old: in her last years, because of a degenerative disease, she had never appeared in public. She had had an extraordinary career and won much recognition, including five David of Donatello Awards as best lead actress, three Nastro d’Argento awards, 12 Globi d’Oro (of which two were for lifetime achievements), one Ciak d’Oro for her lifetime achievements, one Golden Lion in Venice for the same reason, one Silver Bear from the Berlinale, one Concha de Plata in San Sebastián and one BAFTA nomination. She made 55 films in 35 years, leaving a legacy that today not only Italy, but the entire world of cinema, is honoring.

As a young woman, Monica Vitti had no intention to pursue cinema. Her passion was theater, which she had discovered as a child during the war (she was born in Rome on November 3^rd 1931, her birth name being Maria Luisa Ceciarelli) when she played with her siblings, putting up puppet shows to escape from the reality that surrounded them.

She made her stage debut very young with The Enemy by Dario Niccodemi, which she followed by studies at the National Academy of Dramatic Arts (from which she graduated in 1953) and a short but intense theater career, acting in dramas from Shakespeare to Molière, from Brecht to Sei storie da ridere by Luciano Mondolfo. When Antonioni saw her in Il grido, he uttered the famous phrase that was destined to change her career and life forever: “She has a beautiful neck, she should make movies.”

The encounter with Antonioni changed all of the actress’ plans, as she left behind both her architect fiancé and her stage career. Vitti quickly became the director’s muse in films that dealt with conflicts in relationships and the issues faced by modern women. In rapid succession, she made  The Adventure (1960), The Night (1961), The Eclipse (1962), and Red Desert (1964), films featuring women who were different in many ways but similar at their core: tormented Claudia, a woman who is looking for her friend in the Eolie islands, temptress Valentina who “steals” Mastroianni from Jeanne Moreau, mysterious and unhappy Vittoria who lets herself be pursued by the broker Alain Delon, and depressed and tormented Giuliana, the wife of a businessman who is unhappy with her life.

In the second part of the 1960s, Vitti separated from Antonioni both personally and professionally and turned herself to comedy, with which she was comfortably familiar from her theater experience. Beautiful and elegant, she was one of the first actresses who proved that there was no need to be unpleasant or unattractive to make people laugh on the big screen, exploding with comedic force in Mario Monicelli’s The Girl with the Pistol (1968). She forged an artistic collaboration with the actor Alberto Sordi in Help me, my Love, (1969) and the successful  Stardust in 1973, and worked with some of the greatest Italian directors: Ettore Scola (The Pizza Triangle with Giannini and Mastroianni), Dino Risi (That’s How We Women Are), Luciano Salce (Duck in Orange Sauce), Nanni Loy, Luigi Comencini (two episodes of Basta che non si sappia in giro! [As long as it doesn’t get out!]).

In the 1970s, the actress worked with Antonioni’s director of photography, Carlo Di Palma, who had moved to directing. She played Teresa the Thief in De Palma’s debut film (1973), followed by Blonde in Black Leather (1975), a sort of Thelma & Louise before its time with Claudia Cardinale,  and Mimì Bluette… fiore del mio giardino  (1976). In the 1980s, she began to cut down her big screen appearances, concentrating on films directed by her new partner, behind-the-scenes photographer turned director Roberto Russo (Flirt, 1983; Francesca is mine, 1986), whom she married in 2000, and who remained faithfully by her side until the end. She made her writing and directing debut with  Secret Scandal, receiving the David of Donatello award for best debut in 1990, and wrote two books: the autobiography Sette Sottane, (Seven Skirts 1993) the title taken from her childhood nickname – she recalled that whenever she was in a hurry she could wear several clothes one on top of the other – and Il letto è una rosa (The bed is a rose, 1995).

She is considered the only actress in her generation capable of channeling the full range of female characters in Italian cinema, from the neurotic, bourgeois woman incapable of communication with Antonioni, to the seduced and betrayed Sicilian who flies to London to take revenge and discovers her freedom, to the loud village woman with a contagious laugh alongside Alberto Sordi. She was profound, enigmatic, sensual, funny, intellectual, popular, melancholic, smart, and always incredibly beautiful. As the Italians say today to commemorate this great actress, “So many women in one, Monica: one, no one, and one hundred thousand.”