So much of the buildup to this film is about masculine vigor - playing around with as many women as possible without wearing the horns (becoming cuckolded) oneself. The main character's father talks openly about how virile his own father and grandfather were, "lions" with women, and so he understands his son's reputation for being a womanizer (Marcello Mastroianni). In the son's single life in Rome we've seen women passed around as playthings at a posh party among the elite, and to everyone's mocking, there's a character unattracted to women, turning his head away from a kiss, and who we're told has been cheated on often in his marriage, undoubtedly signals for him being gay. When the father arranges a marriage for him to a beautiful and rich woman (Claudia Cardinale), he hopes he'll settle down into family life properly.
The patriarchy of the time and place probably can't be expressed any better than in the service at the couple's wedding, where the priest says "The wife will obey her husband the same as The Lord, because man is woman's master, as Christ is the Church's master." Yikes.
Mastroianni and Cardinale are a gorgeous couple and naturally we expect him to be ravaging her day and night when they get out to their country estate. Bolognini cuts to a beautiful scene with her on a swing when he begins kissing her, but she stops him, saying "It is enough. How many kisses do you want to give me? You are always kissing me. I think you have given me a million kisses in these three months," at first leading us to believe that's what's happening.
She runs off and is soon telling the maid, "We have decided not to have babies," to which the reply is "Really? That's a sin. You can't do it, it's a sin. God wants the husband and his wife to have children." What seems like a possible exploration into the "sinful" use of birth control leads to the shocking truth (by today's standards) that the wife doesn't even understand how babies are made, until her maid rather coarsely tells her that it's done "like animals do it," which repulses her. The next shocking truth (by the standards of the period) is that she doesn't know because her husband hasn't consummated the marriage with her. He's impotent. And eventually we find out he's been that way for a long time.
It's a fascinating turn of events, obviously counter to character types for Mastroianni, and a subject not often dealt with, but here it's not just a study in personal vulnerability, but commentary on a society that's far too obsessed with virility, confusing it with strength.
To the man's shame, word quickly spreads to his father, who can't imagine it to be true. "Impossible," he erupts, "I slept with nine women in one night!" This leads to some fantastic scenes of confrontation not between Mastroianni and Cardinale, but between his father (Pierre Brasseur) and a priest, and his mother (Rina Morelli) with Cardinale. Without the marriage being consummated, you see, it's not a "real marriage" and can be annulled per the Catholic Church, which is bitterly ironic because the husband absolutely adores and loves his wife.
With the family shamed and perhaps to restore his own sense of familial masculinity, the father shows up at a prostitute's place, wanting people to know that "at age 60, I have women," and bragging to her that "Many cuckold men have brought up Alfio Magnano's (my) children." As he begins undressing her he says that if he has a heart attack in the act, "everybody will say Alfio Magnano died fulfilling his duty." His duty!
There is so much importance placed on virility that it overshadows true love, and it also overshadows morality, both with the father's screwing around and then, surprise! The son getting the maid pregnant. What should actually be sources of shame are both trumpeted because they signal "strength," which is quite an inversion, and therein lies the power of the film.
