Review #629: 'I Vitelloni' (1953)

Unjustly put into the back-seat of Federico Fellini's extraordinary career, I Vitelloni is a relatively simplistic tale of 30-something slackers in a small 1950's Italian town. While it doesn't stand out against works such as La Dolce Vita (1960) or 8 1/2 (1963), this shows a different side to Fellini's famous circus-tent approach, engaging Neo-Realist sensibilities to form a rather bleak, but nonetheless amusing autobiographical film. While Amarcord (1973) was a more straight-forward depiction of Fellini's childhood memories, I Vitelloni seems to be based on people he has observed, possibly while growing up, who, like him, sought to break out of small-town life. Amarcord was a sweet homage to his hometown, but I Vitelloni shows what this kind of life can do to a generation born to parents of sacrifice.

The Vitelloni (translated as 'the Boys') consist of Moraldo (Franco Interlenghi), a quiet, observant young man; Fausto (Franco Fabrizi), a handsome playboy; Alberto (Alberto Sordi), a daydreamer unhappy at his sister's affair with a married man; and Leopoldo (Leopoldo Trieste), the writer who harbours dreams of writing critically-adored plays. After Fausto gets Moraldo's sister Sandra (Leonora Ruffo) pregnant, he thinks about skipping town, but is talked out of it. He instead married Sandra, but continues to pursue women, whether they're single or taken, or even if they're married to his boss. With carnival approaching, we witness the group try their best to do as little as possible. They all dream of escaping the town, but do nothing to help it. Instead, they drink, gamble and chase women.

Fellini doesn't have disdain for these characters, but shows them for what they are. They see their parents and grandparents, old and seemingly miserable, and see what their sacrifice has brought them. So, naturally, they rebel. Fausto is undoubtedly a loathsome character, even going as far as leaving a cinema half-way through a movie, where he is with his wife, to chase a beautiful woman. But for all his flaws, he still manages to gather sympathy. It seems like he simply cannot stop, locked into a life in which he doesn't belong, but he is solely responsible for. Yet for all his complexities, you can't help but feel relieved when he is given his comeuppance by his father. It's a clever juxtaposition of the generations, and although society will always produce a 'generation X', sometimes a good slap in the face is what is needed.

Although Fellini remains somewhat reserved throughout the majority of the film, choosing a still, controlled camera, he breaks out of the neo-Realism approach about half-way through for a scene in which carnival comes to town, with the sound of a lonesome drunken trumpet player running in a circle bellowing in an abandoned dance hall, as the catatonic Alberto staggers outside. It's the style that he would explode with in later years, as giant paper-mache heads poke out amongst sweaty party-goers. It helps counteract the seriousness of the movie's themes, perhaps even subtly elevating it, but it's the film's touching final sentiment that will stay with you, as a train carries one of the Vitelloni out of the town. Whether he will be back, or whether it will finally allow him to be happy we don't know, and that's a tragic statement if there ever was one.


Directed by: Federico Fellini
Starring: Franco Interlenghi, Franco Fabrizi, Alberto Sordi, Leopoldo Trieste
Country: Italy/France

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #622: 'Amarcord' (1973)

Translated as 'I Remember', the great Italian director Federico Fellini's Amarcord is a series a comedic vignettes that look back at his childhood in a 1930's coastal town. Apart from the intertwining inhabitants, there is nothing thematically or even tonally linking the stories together, much like memory itself. The film takes places over the course of a year, with nothing signifying the passage of time apart from the subtle changes in seasons. Apart from the film's brief focus on the rise of fascism, this is Fellini at his most satirically light, with his usual mocking of the bourgeoisie making way for some amusingly childish humour and some beautifully photographed scenes.

True to Fellini's style, Amarcord is occasionally outrageous and always flamboyant. We see the majority of the film through the eyes of the closest thing there is to a protagonist, the young, rosy-cheeked Titta (Bruno Zanin), and therefore everything in the film feels exaggerated. The sexual aspects especially are often juvenile, but true to the experiences of a young, hormonal man, so when Titta shows off his strength by lifting the large, buxom tobacconist (Maria Antonietta Beluzzi) he so often fantasises about, he is rewarded by having a grope of her ridiculously large breasts in a scene that could have been called Carry on Fellini. There is also the local nymphomaniac Volpina (Josiane Tanzilli), who seems to hover around touching herself and growling hungrily at any man who glances in her direction. These are true Fellini grotesques.

The comedy aside (and special mention must go to the hilarious segment in which Titta's crazy Uncle Teo (Ciccio Ingrassia) comes to stay and escapes into a tree), there are as many touching and profound moments that display Fellini's outstanding talent. The scene in which Titta must watch his mother's final moments on a hospital bed is brutal in its simplicity, with Titta's naivety failing to grasp the seriousness of the situation while his father Aurelio (Armando Brancia) lingers in tragic silence. There's also moments of beauty, namely the arrival of a peacock in the winter snow displaying it's covert feathers, or the sight of a giant ocean liner, seemingly meaningless moments that stuck with Fellini for decades. For me, this is not Fellini's finest moment - that would lie with 8 1/2 (1963), arguably one of the finest films ever made - but this is still one of the most accurate depictions of memory and beautiful ode's to nostalgia I've seen.


Directed by: Federico Fellini
Starring: Armando Brancia, Pupella Maggio, Bruno Zanin, Magali Noël
Country: Italy/France

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #219: 'Spirits of the Dead' (1968)

Also known as Histoires Extraordinaires, this film combines three short stories by Edgar Allen Poe, and has each segment directed by a different European director. The first, entitled Metzengerstein, is directed by the man that helmed Barbarella (1968), Roger Vadim. It tells the story of a beautiful yet debauched countess Federica (Jane Fonda) who falls in love with her family rival, Baron Wilhelm (Peter Fonda - bit weird, them being real-life brother and sister), who frees her leg from a trap in the woods. After he rejects her, she orders the burning of one of his villages, and the Baron is killed when attempting a rescue of one of his horses. The horse is taken in by Federica, who becomes obsessed with it once she notices its resemblance to the one painted on a damaged tapestry.

The second story, William Wilson, is directed by French film-maker Louis Malle. It tells a familiar doppelgänger story of the wicked William Wilson (Alain Delon) who is also interrupted by his 'better half' who shares his name and his appearance, but none of his evil ways. After winning a card game against Giuseppina (Brigitte Bardot) through repeatedly cheating, his other half exposes him, and the two face a duel. The third, directed by Federico Fellini and entitled Toby Dammit, follows alcoholic Shakesperean actor Toby Dammit (Terence Stamp) who is brought to Rome to star in an adaptation of the story of Christ, re-imagined as a western. Haunted by visions of a blonde girl who has lost her ball, he goes on a drunken ride through Rome in a Ferrari.

The biggest problem with this film is the variations of quality in the different episodes. Vadim's opener is a pretty poor effort, with a strange storyline focusing on a woman's obsession with a horse. It seems to be nothing more than an excuse to get Jane Fonda into some skimpy medieval outfits. That is all well and good (it was one of the key reasons why I loved Barbarella!) but it's a silly story and a waste of some beautiful cinematography. Malle's second story is a big improvement, but it is clear that his heart is not really in it. Apparently he agreed to take on the job in order to raise money for Murmur of the Heart (1971), and compromised to make the film more accessible to mainstream audiences. But the eroticism of the card game, and the strange atmosphere that is evident throughout make it an enjoyable 40 minutes.

Fellini's final segment is very much the director's own vision. It is so far gone from anything resembling Poe's original vision, it could be easily called Fellini's own. Thematically similar to most of his key works, Terence Stamp's crumbling lead character is the main focus, and his disintegrating sanity is laid out on the screen with a collection of flashing images, bizarre characters, and unconventional camerawork. It is also an attack on celebrity, as the characters that Dammit comes across don't react or flinch at his increasingly strange and unpredictable behaviour. It's a shame that Fellini is restricted to a 40 minute portion of a 2-hour film, as I would have quite happily watched Toby Dammit as a full-length feature. An enjoyable, if unspectacular overall film, with the stories getting notably better as the film goes on.


Directed by: Federico Fellini, Louis Malle, Roger Vadim
Starring: Jane Fonda, Alain Delon, Terence Stamp, Brigitte Bardot, Peter Fonda
Country: France/Italy

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #144: '8½' (1962)

After the international success of Fellini's La Dolce Vita (1961), which was a departure in style from his previous, neo-realist techniques, he decided to use the more fantastical, personal details and stylings which resulted in the kaleidoscopic, beautifully seductive, 8 1/2 (named and it was Fellini's seventh feature - whilst he considered his three shorts as half each). Fellini's camera glides through the scenes. As do the actors, in a clearly choreographed ballet of acting.

Guido (Fellini alter-ego Marcello Mastroianni), is a film maker hot off the success of a film, and under pressure to direct another. As Guido keeps producers, writers, actors hanging for any slither of information of what the film is about. He secretly internalises his thoughts that segue from fantasy to memories of his past. Guido wants to make a film that tells no lies. He is himself, a selfish, and unfaithful character. He can not externalise his thoughts to direct the film that he wants to. His fantasies and memories culminate in his power of a hareem of women: all of these women from his life past and present who are all faithful, loyal, and love him. Guido seems, within his fantasy, to be destroying his own ability to speak the truth, as he is told by the women.

But one, elusive woman; his fantasy woman (Claudia Cardinale), seems to be the person (muse if you like), that will make the film happen. But she proves to be unattainable. This truly is "the greatest film about film making", as is so commonly stated. Guido's memories/fantasies are built within him to breakdown, and destroy his own creativity. This level of self-degradating of a block in creativity portrayed to perfection, both in dazzling cinematography and Mastroianni's laconic portrayal of an artist questioning his ability to create. Whilst this subject informed the creation of 8 1/2, it certainly does not display any inability in Fellini's startlingly beautiful, well crafted film; and quite often as stylistically creative as Citizen Kane (1941).

Directed by: Federico Fellini

Starring: Marcello Mastroianni, Claudia Cardinale, Anouk Aimée

Country: Italy/France

Rating: *****

Marc Ivamy