8 1/2

1963 masterpiece

Rating: 20/20

Plot: A guy tries to make a science fiction movie, dreams.

"Happiness is being able to tell the truth without making anybody suffer."

Did you know that Fellini cites this as one of his favorite films ever. That's ballsy, isn't it? This is the most pretentious movie that I've ever seen, but it's hard to not love every minute of it. In fact, just take a look at the opening scene with a camera swimming through a traffic jam, threatened asphyxiation, a daring escape, and a kite man. It's one of and maybe the best opening scenes ever, and if Fellini had made that and nothing else, he could still be considered one of the greatest directors of all time.  This movie blends fantasy, reality, and nostalgia as effortlessly as you'll ever see them blended. One of those isn't even very interesting, and if you get bogged down with lengthy dialogue that isn't nearly as interesting as the visuals (or the vegetables, as I typo'd), I understand. It's the sort of movie that you can't understand entirely because some of it doesn't feel like it was made for you but that you just want to absorb. The style forces you to open up to what beguiles, allow the movie to violate you. There are constant surprises at what jumps or slides in front of the camera, a choreography of faces, movements that make the whole thing feel more like a 2 1/2 hour dance instead of a narrative. Every note's about perfect, so perfect that the aforementioned kite man actually feels like one of your own dreams and a woman's teeth, a man's tremor, ghosts with umbrellas, rhythmic marching, a guy's legs dangling on a bench, Saraghina with a Rumba twerk, a woman lifting her head to reveal her face beneath a ridiculous hat bill, a wife's nostril flare, etc. etc. feels like your own memory has been invaded. Speaking of that hat bill, how about that Claudia Cardinale! My, oh my, what a beauty. A little dance reminds me a little of Uma, and a scene where she's listening to a piano, a little swirling finger and a tap on a guy's head and a lift of her leg, made me fall in love like I was falling in love for the very first time. And then Barbara Steele, from Black Sunday, with a beauty you can't unravel. The timeless mysteries of cheekbones and cleavage and shaped eyebrows! There's an amazing sequence here, a "harem" scene that is as chaotic as it is poetic and as comical as it is erotic. They just don't film them like that anymore. I imagine it's a scene that's shown in an endless loop in some museum somewhere. Two scenes take place at a set for the director's science fiction movie, comically immense and completely useless scaffolding. The first has lights that are so splotchy, so noticeable in a movie where every other shot is pristine. The finale, which of course features a parade of sorts, makes you feel happy to be a human being for once. Guido, played as a total dick by Marcello Mastroianni, says, "I thought my ideas were so clear. I wanted to make an honest film. No lies whatsoever. I thought I had something so simple to say. Something useful for everybody. A film that could help bury forever all the things we carry inside ourselves." When I saw 8 1/2 the first time, I was young and didn't understand what the heck I was supposed to be seeing. This isn't the kind of movie you can understand as a seven year old, you know. I totally got La Saraghina, however, that kind of infatuation that you can only explain with the most intimate sorts of hand gestures. I think now, as a middle-aged guy so many movies and images from the entire history of film bouncing around in his head, the whole thing's deceptively simple. And it is easy to see how this could be one of somebody's favorite movies even though I'm partial to the short film that I made as a high school senior. That's probably better than 8 1/2.