Girl with a Suitcase

Italy may not be the cradle of cinema, but it has produced enough influential auteurs and essential films to fill an opera house. Yet somehow, the name Valerio Zurlini rarely even makes the program, let alone earns a standing ovation. With just eight features over two decades, Zurlini’s body of work is modest compared to giants like Fellini or Visconti — but no less deserving of attention. Now, Radiance Films’ new limited-edition Blu-ray of Girl With a Suitcase, easily surpassing the long out-of-print NoShame disc, should finally bring some long-overdue recognition to Zurlini’s delicate artistry.

At the heart of the film is Claudia Cardinale, delivering one of her finest early performances. She plays Aida, a struggling nightclub singer abandoned by a careless lover — literally left on the side of the road with nothing but her suitcase. When her ex’s younger brother, a naïve teenager named Lorenzo (Corrado Pani), impulsively reaches out to help, Zurlini sets the stage for a heartbreakingly tender collision between youthful idealism and harsh adult reality.

Once again, Zurlini entrusts his actors with the emotional weight of the story. His style is deceptively simple: unshowy, almost invisible, but quietly masterful. He eschews grand, operatic gestures in favor of small, shattering moments — a hesitant glance, a missed connection, a door closed too softly. Cardinale, radiant but never sentimentalized, inherits the kind of role modern actresses would kill for: flawed, impulsive, vulnerable, and resilient in ways that never feel forced or prettified.

Crucially, Zurlini doesn't ask the audience to fall in love with Aida — he asks us to see her, fully and honestly. It's Lorenzo, portrayed with remarkable sensitivity by Pani, who shoulders the burden of romantic hope and inevitable disillusionment. Their dynamic is tender but never exploitative, and Zurlini’s refusal to tip the story into melodrama gives the film its lingering ache.

Where the flashier Italian auteurs often announce themselves with a flourish, Zurlini’s touch is light, almost self-effacing. He makes it look easy — and that, perhaps, is his greatest trick. Girl With a Suitcase may seem modest at first glance, but it's precisely this restraint that makes its heartbreak feel so deeply earned. In a just world, Zurlini’s name would be spoken with the same reverence as his more celebrated contemporaries. Films like this make the case, softly but undeniably.

The new transfer is derived from a 4K restoration and looks astonishingly good.  Extras include several interviews, a visual essay from Kat Ellinger, 12-page booklet and reversible sleeve with new cover art.