FELLINI 100
“Rome: Open City” (1945) and was very much invested in capturing the lives of everyday people with real problems in real settings. I’m rather fond of these films, and MFAH picked a couple of my favorites in “Variety Lights” (1950, Fellini’s directorial debut with Alberto Lattuada) and “I vitelloni” (1953). (I also love the film that came out in between these two, “The White Sheik,” which, unfortunately, is not part of the series.)
“Variety Lights” is an ode to traveling showmen and women, and a study of the tenuous balance of power and ego that arises when a new star is born. That star is played by Carla Del Poggio, who steals not just the spotlight but also the attentions of the man in charge (Peppino De Filippo). This does not please his girlfriend, played by an actress named Giulietta Masina, from whom we hear a lot more in the series.
The best of the early Fellini films is probably “I vitelloni,” an autobiographical tale of five knockabout friends straining against the boundaries of a coastal Italian town. Cruising for women, talking about their big plans, they go in circles that lead to dead ends. Only one, the Fellini surrogate Moraldo (Franco Interlenghi), manages to push off and start fresh; his departure by train at the film’s climax is both deeply moving and cinematically inventive, a harbinger of the director’s burgeoning style.
At this point, Fellini begins writing great roles for his wife, Masina. “La Strada” (1954) and “Nights of Cabiria” (1957) push a little bit further toward experimentation and allegory. Then, the one-two punch, the seismic breakthrough. “La Dolce Vita,” an acidic, freewheeling dissection of Rome, arrives in 1960. It explores the glamorous class and the hangers-on, as seen through the eyes of a callow but sad-eyed tabloid journalist (Marcello Mastroianni). This is the film that coined the word “paparazzi.” You might also recall Swedish starlet Anita Ekberg frolicking in a fountain.
“8½” (1963) isn’t the last film in the series, but it is the peak. Heck, it might be the peak of filmmaking, or at least the peak of filmmaking about filmmaking. From its opening dream sequence onward, “8½” seems to be inventing its own cinematic language as it goes, much as frustrated movie director Guido (Mastroianni again) brings his reveries to life: dreams, nostalgic memories, fantasies born of fear and desire. The film is a mighty high-wire act, a breathtakingly fluid handling of rich interior life.
Where do you go after “8½”? There’s the free-associative allure of “Juliet of the Spirits” (1965) and the pungent, episodic nostalgia of “Amarcord” (1974). Fellini did plenty of good work after “8½.” But he had already reinvented the wheel.
The MFAH series covers the many seasons of Fellini, from neorealist pup to bold surrealist provocateur. He contained multitudes, and it’s always a pleasure to trace his path, especially in a theater setting. Fellini 100 is cause for rejoicing, a chance to see a great artist’s evolution unfold.