ABSTRACT
While the war burned fiercely across the world, and epic fights flared in the sky and sea, underground and underwater, we saw forewarned in the newspapers the explosion of another battle, equally epic, albeit not so bloody; the struggle deserved to be sung by Homer, an ironic Homer who, after he had etched his verses into bronze and cast figures of Hector and Achilles, had fun carving in low relief the wars of gnawing mice. The battle is between the two big studios; and the object of the battle is the beautiful Francesca Bertini, the film star, the film goddess, the beautiful Elena of the camera lens, which the filmic Trojans and Achaeans contend for bitterly before the courts, not for favours, but for the poses.
