Last summer the hot-pink feminism of “Barbie” took more than $1 billion at box offices worldwide. In Italy, however, “Barbie” was beaten by another film, a feminist dramedy with a clear nod to Italian neorealism set in postwar Rome.

“C’è ancora domani,” or “There’s Still Tomorrow,” was a hit at the box office and with Italian critics, who almost unanimously hailed it as a revelation. In May, at the David di Donatello Awards, which are akin to the Italian Oscars, it won six prizes from 19 nominations.

The film presents a monolithic patriarchy which the women bear stoically and symbolically counter, at the end — spoiler alert — by voting. So how did a 1940s black-and-white feminist parable become such a phenomenon? At least part of the answer lies in the fact that “There’s Still Tomorrow” is a safe film set in a very binary world.

The plot follows Delia, a woman devoted to her family and dominated by her violent, sexist husband, Ivano, himself the son of a violent, sexist father. Delia and Ivano have three children, two little boys and an older daughter, Marcella, whom the parents hope will “marry well” — that is, marry a rich guy, a woman’s only chance to escape poverty.

Delia is relentlessly abused by her husband, verbally and physically, but bears it stoically for the sake of her children and because she seems to have no choice. In the end, a choice does emerge, and Delia goes behind Ivano’s back to vote. Delia and her daughter exchange a knowing glance across the street, signaling their hope for a better future, at least for Marcella.

Part of the film’s success is because of the popularity of Paola Cortellesi, who co-wrote, directed and stars, and who is a beloved public figure in Italy (much as Roberto Benigni was when he co-wrote, directed and starred in “Life Is Beautiful”). But another major reason the film was so successful is that it’s the story of a feminism that everyone can agree on and enjoy. Ms. Cortellesi has described the film as “a contemporary movie set in the past,” but shifting the struggle of feminism into the past strips it of its political essence and allows it to be viewed in terms of battles won without having to confront those still to be fought, or those within feminism itself.