Die Stimme des Mondes

The bitterness is the basic trait of this last Fellini. You discover all what you know or define as Felliniesque. You admire Roberto Begnini , being more prepared to remind scenes from his last Pinocchios. You feel pity and admiration about characters. And you feel the fall of a world, suggested, in so precise manner, by entire atmosphere defining a simple - baroque good bye. A film only reminding themes, characters, idiosincrasies. And the bitterness as basic virtue.

An astounding movie that left me behind with a smile on the face. Its ending reminded me of the annoying feeling when having woken up after a beautiful dream.

In fact, the movie has something of a dreamland, where almost everything seems possible and space and time have lost their limitations. In Salvini, plaid by Roberto Benigni, it is presenting a modern fool as its very likeable main protagonist, who on his ways around a small Italian town meets all kind of weird characters and hears voices from the ground of the wells. The movie could also be described as a modern fairy tale that in some parts becomes quite reflective when disclosing some absurdities of modern life. When seeing those it becomes in a way comprehensible that Gonella, the 2nd main protagonist, has developed a certain paranoia and believes in a big world conspiracy.

It is also true that the movie does not have a lot of thrill because it is lacking a real story line. This fact, however, kept alive my curiosity because it remains unclear throughout the movie where the film is heading at and what strange things are next to happen. This concept does not necessarily work out but grandmaster Fellini succeeds one more time in presenting us a stream of lively and fascinating images. Some typical Fellini ingredients like madonna statues and fairgrounds are part of them one more time.

Overall, a film like a poem, that certainly is not everyone's cup of tea.

Probably the only time in cinema where Michael Jackson ("The Way You Make Me Feel" specifically and an inspired dancr sequence) gets a transition into the Blue Danube waltz, and rhsn back again so that's certainly something!

Plotless, rambling, and has more than a few moments where Fellini and his crew place actors and light and setting and music just so to make cinematic poetry: memories as stanzas broken up by the little bits where story appears to be taking place. It sounds contradictory, but what keeps it from being among the filmmaker's best is what is still very interesting about it: Benigni is s man who (after a little time to surmise) is out from a mental hospital and is wandering from town to town, looking for a woman that he adores from his past and interacts with other characters who have their own histories and mysteries and whatnot... And that's it, that's the movie - and all the while, to the director's credit, he gets a real performance out of his star and not merely circus shtick (which is what I assumed many years ago when I first heard of this that it would be).

As with many Fellini, it may just be too much to take in in one sitting, but on the other hand Im not sure I... Care that much about this character and his search for this woman who really doesn't want to see him. And yet, there are brilliant scenes and flashes of greatness through out, wild bits like the one man who gets married and when his wife has sex with him it becomes like being on an actual train that rocks and rolls and creates panedemonium and smoke, or the Blue Danube dance and everyone at the dance breaking out in applause, or that shot where all of those figures with big black garbage cans walk in formation into town. And other times, just as impressively, Fellini slows his usual madman roll snd lets Delli Colli keep the camera more still (or occasionally, something I don't remember from him before, handheld).

At its most enlightening and satisfying, it's a melancholy but entertaining journey through memory and not even desire so much as longing, like tbe ending with Benigni looking up at the moon. It's also about twenty minutes too long (that long sequence in the town square where, uh, suddenly there's a big screen up showing people crying and begging to a fake moon - it really dragged to nothing satisfying), and I wish there was a little more time to understand what the Prefect character was all about as a lost soul. But, even with its flaws, it's still a lovely experience because it's Fellini finding ways to rediscover his passions and interests in exploring memory, regret and the desire to want to fly in the sky, figuratively and literally.

Is La Voce Della Luna one of Fellini's very best? Not for me, I consider the likes of Nights of Cabiria, La Dolce Vita, 8 1/2 and Amarcord better movies. But it is one of his most underrated movies. Some of the structure is a little dislocated, but even with that there is still much to like. Watching the visuals it is like visual lyric poetry, every frame is beautifully shot and the scenery is really stunning. The music is beautiful as well and Fellini's direction is superb with his themes of women and religious superstition on display and conveyed interestingly and intelligently. There is definitely his unique style, not just in the basic feel of the film but also in its themes. La Voce Della Luna is mostly very moving and haunting in feel as well. The acting is great, Roberto Benigni gives one of his most humanistic and understated performances and it is just wonderful and very natural, while Paolo Villaggio contrasts superbly with him. Overall, deserves to be better known as it is a very good movie. Not classic Fellini but should be more well known as just his last film. 8/10 Bethany Cox

This is a sad swan song from the director. In many ways. It is a rambling affair, too wordy and shot as if on sound stage with harsh and uncompromising light. Yet there is something about the (oh so Italian!) characters that come and go we imagine, throughout the overlong running time, that the whole will spark into life. It doesn't but what is so sad is that there are, now and again, moments that jump out as trademark Felliniesque visions. Flimsy white lace costumes revolve in unison, a beauty contest promises to burst forth, a group of unfortunates gather to catch a glimpse of 'pussy' as a neighbour undresses and finally a tethered moon brought to Earth. But overall and despite treasurable seconds this stands as a rather forlorn and unconsummated endeavour. A sad farewell indeed.