Amarcord

This film was first recommended to me by a high school friend who typically enjoys a different kind of film than I. He counts Reservoir Dogs and Mean Streets among his favorites; I am partial to Notorious and Annie Hall. But for his sake, I watched Amarcord, and in the past years have found myself returning to it time and again. I haven't seen any other movies by Mr. Fellini, so I can judge this film only against itself. By such standards, it is a masterpiece. Never have I seen Italy portrayed as lovingly, nor the spectrum of childhood emotions - happiness, love, frustration - represented as frankly. The images are spellbinding - sunlight and fog and great dark seas. Yesterdays are perfect, it would seem, and love exists in what we can remember. So my friend got it right with this one. Amarcord is a kind of magic only the very best in cinema inspire within us. It's the magic that makes us remember.

Fellini gives us a series of memories, fantasies, and dreams in the vignettes which make up his semi-autobiographical film 'Amarcord' ('I Remember'). The message which comes through is loving, and about the gaiety of life, embracing its madcap characters and moments - moments which will someday live in our memories, hazy though they grow, as little diamonds of light. I loved the scenes satirizing the Fascists and the Catholic Church, and they're all the more powerful in this context, where they are reduced in significance, and just another zany thing Italians dealt with (or deal with) in life. The film doesn't strike any major philosophical chords, briefly coming close as men peer up into the heavens, but the lines uttered as a poem by a construction worker are powerful ("My grandfather made bricks / My father made bricks / I make bricks, too / but where's my house?"). I may be in the minority here, but the film didn't strike me as particularly beautiful, though it was a pleasure to see Magali Noël (Rififi, La Dolce Vita, and many others). It held my interest, but lacked a big punch, even in its sentimentality, though I was always pulling for it, and loved the many references to Hollywood actors from the 1930's. Unfortunately, there is not enough depth here to consider it a great film, and Fellini too often indulged in caricatures and juvenile humor. Net, a mixed bag.

I never thought of this movie as carnivalesque, but you could argue about that. I like to think it is surrealistic in the way that your memory can distort history and all that you once dreamed of or was scared of. Those memories evolve into caricatures of persons, their behaviour and caricatures of situations. We not only see Federico's memories, but also the supposed memories of people once surrounding him.

Also this is said to be Fellini's most accessible film. Well, I was 15 when I saw it first, and it is still one of my favorites. About 10 Fellini-films later I read that this won the academy-award for best foreign picture, which I never expected, but think is quite rightly. The many surrealistic scenes stick to the mind for decades. Hilarious, tragic, oppressive (upcoming fascism: so most of it must take place just before ww2), nostalgic, poetic: there's something for everyone (and every age) to appeal to, while Fellini makes no compromises. If this was higher-paced, you wouldn't have time to appreciate the details, the photography and the music (Nino Rota). Don't look for a plot here.

The cinematography (Giuseppe Rotunno) has comparable feel with some films by Mike Nichols (Catch-22 (1970), Carnal Knowledge (1971), Graduate (1967)). Rotunno worked with Mike Nichols on three films: Carnal Knowledge, Regarding Henry and Wolf. And with Fellini on 9 films (e.g. City of women (1980)). I don't know if this is relevant, but Fellini is said to have had a conversation with Mike Nichols during the production of Catch-22. Otherwise I can't think of many films that are comparable with this fabulous collage of events happening apparently in spring, summer, autumn, winter and ends in spring to conclude some cycle (generation ?) accompanied by beautiful distinctive music. Why o why can't we vote 11 :(

I must point out right away that I am not a huge fan of the films of Fellini and I much prefer his earlier films before he became the surrealistic director. So, you probably will assume I am an idiot--that may be the case--the jury is still out on that one! However, I am not alone on IMDb, as a few others also have stated that they felt may of his films were overrated as well.

So why did I like this film? Well, instead of the disconnnectedness and choppiness of 8 1/2 and the utterly depressing nature of La Strada (which I still liked) and Nights of Cabiria, this film was more enjoyable. I don't require films to be fun to be worthwhile, but I think all too often, depressing and unappealing films are elevated to greatness by critics simply because of these aspects. In other words, if the film makes you feel suicidal, critics ASSUME it MUST be good! So why did I enjoy this movie? Well, I liked looking into the old Italy of Fellini's childhood and observing all the interesting and quirky characters--I am a sucker for these elements. In fact, that is why I am a particular fan of the films of Marcel Pagnol--it's as if we are peeking into the private lives of ordinary but likable folks.

"Amarcord" was the first Fellini film I saw, about two years ago. It was on TV at 4 o'clock a.m. and I was very sleepy, but I watched it till the end. I wasn't disappointed at all, and I do want to watch it again.

It's not hard to say why this is considered one of Federico Fellini's masterpieces. "Amarcord" (which means "I remember" in the Italian dialect of Emilia-Romagna, the region in which Fellini was born and where the film is set) is one of the most dazzling, personal films you'll ever see. Though Fellini denied that the film is autobiographical (but agreed that has similarities with his own childhood), he made some of the most magic scenes in film history. Nino Rota's unforgettable music score is perfect to highlight the story of a teenage boy's daydreaming (and many other people) in the fascist 1930s Italy. There's a sentence written by the Brazilian author Machado de Assis in one of his novels that is suitable for this magnificent film: "O menino é o pai do homem" ("The Boy is The Man's Father").

A well deserved Best Foreign Film Oscar (Nino Rota should've won too – he wasn't even nominated!). 10 out of 10.