La voce della luna

Not many directors would choose the end of their career to head off in an entirely new direction, but that is very much what Fellini does here. This was his first film based on a novel (Ermanno Cavazzoni's "Il poema dei lunatici") and quite a radical departure in terms of style.

In a move which apparently alienated many of his traditional audience, the film-world is almost entirely the one experienced by the central characters, Ivo Salvini and to a lesser extent Gonnella. This subjectivity of approach was of course used in "8 1/2" but in a less extreme and clearly autobiographical way. Here, Fellini makes the brave decision to keep contextualisation and explanation to a minimum, leaving the unwary viewer flailing about in search of a foothold. As Ivo's state of mind drifts between lucidity and hallucination, we seldom know what is 'real' and what is imagined, even down to the words spoken by other characters.

"Felliniesque" themes such as the love/fear of women, religious superstition and motifs like madonna statues and mountains of pasta are revisited from this rather skewed perspective, but the film overall has a dislocated feel which is far away from the likes of Roma or Amacord.

Interestingly, Benigni is asked to act here, rather than doing his usual schtick, and does well as a Chaplinesque figure who occasionally reminds one of Guilietta Masina.

This is certainly not what you might call classic Fellini (he confessed to a crisis of confidence writing it) but there is much to enjoy and to wonder at in this last work. The man himself regarded it as the "orphan" of his films and hoped it would come to be better regarded.

Devotees of Terry Gilliam will note the original of the waltz scene lifted for the following year's "Fisher King".

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.

This is one of Fellini's best movies, and one of the most underrated pictures of all time. This masterpiece includes all the main themes of Fellini's career. It doesn't follow a "prose style", but a "lyric style". It's like a visual poem. In fact this film narrates the journey of Ivo Salvini (Roberto Benigni) through dreams and memories, which actually belong to the great director. As a matter of fact Salvini, alter ego of Fellini, says: "I love to remember, maybe more than living". The protagonist wanders in the countryside, asking himself about life, and meets Gonnella (Paolo Villaggio), who feels himself oppressed by the giant and factitious society, made of useless appearance. The noisy square is the symbol of a chaotic society (circensian, as Fellini would say), where the individuality is dead, superseded by an alienated mass. This crowd is insensitive to the voice of inner being, to the voice of the moon. In this film the noise contrasts with the silence, the loud public square contrasts with the noiseless countryside, which helps along subjectivity. The omnipresent television clashes with the moments of poetry, like the scenes of Benigni reciting poems of the Italian romantic poet Giacomo Leopardi. Poetry wins over the modern society, which doesn't listen the voice of inner being, deafened by the noise of the Machine. Poetry is like a flight, like a dance, like music (the waltz scene in the disco is wonderful). At the end only the most misunderstood people can catch the moon, that glow of infinite. Nobody can explain what happens. Maybe it's not necessary to explain. It's enough to keep silence and listen. Benigni and Villaggio are two great actors, the soundtrack by Nicola Piovani is impressive and touching, the set design by Dante Ferretti has a beautiful imagery, and the direction of the master is outstanding as usual. All that enables us to listen for a moment the voice of the moon.

I love how subtly the real mixes with the unreal in Fellini's movies to the point that you are not quite sure which is which anymore. I love the poetry, a mad poetry of love, mystery and revelations. Benigni's role in this film is glorious. This film is drenched in an art of dreamy quality. Paolo Villagio is great in this movie too carrying an entirely different madness to that of Benigni's character. I just love the structure of this film as well as the poetic script. This film really moved me into a hypnotic state. Fellini is the Jung of movies, taking you further and further, deeper and deeper into a trance and then finally after putting you through a maze, a labyrinth of complex psychological truths tells you "Now look!"

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.