By the seventh installment, we know the drill. Ragionier Ugo Fantozzi (Paolo Villaggio), the most downtrodden, ugly, and unlucky accountant in Italian cinema, is still trapped in the hellish Mega-Datan Corporation. His boss, the monstrous Duke of the Bank (Gigi Reder), still hates him. His daughter, the horrifically equine Mariangela, is still single. And his family vacation is still a disaster.
Let’s be honest: by 1990, the formula was showing its age. Fantozzi alla riscossa relies heavily on callbacks. The infamous “mega-litri” wine glass? Check. The disastrous trip to a restaurant? Check. Fantozzi’s car being destroyed by a tractor? Check. If you’ve seen the first three films, you’ve seen most of these gags done better. fantozzi alla riscossa
Fantozzi tries to rise. The universe punches him down. You laugh, then you feel bad about laughing. That’s the deal. Fantozzi alla riscossa honors that deal, even if it does so on autopilot. By the seventh installment, we know the drill
The film also suffers from a mean-spirited streak that feels less funny and more depressing. Early Fantozzi movies balanced cruelty with a sliver of hope. Here, the despair is relentless. The “riscossa” (comeback) is so brief and so brutally reversed that you might not laugh—you might just sigh. His daughter, the horrifically equine Mariangela, is still
This time, the “riscossa” (the comeback) is a cruel joke: Fantozzi tries to rebel. He quits his job. He buys a car that literally falls apart while he’s driving it. He even attempts to become a writer. Naturally, every attempt at dignity is crushed with sadistic precision.
One standout scene involves Fantozzi trying to enjoy a peaceful boat ride, only to be humiliated by his monstrously athletic colleague, Filini. The physical comedy is still sharp, and the social satire—targeting consumerism, corporate absurdity, and the Italian middle class’s obsession with status—remains painfully relevant.