Amarcord

It's truly astonishing to see the range of response for other reviewers on IMDB.

This movie has a history for me. I first saw it when I was young, and it impressed me greatly. Would I like it today? I'm not sure. I'm thinking of renting it again to find out.

Here's what I remember: Excellent score by Rota; sitting here, typing this, I can hum one of the melodies. The sequence where we meet a number of teachers; priceless. The bricklayer/poet's poem about not having a house. The unyeilding emotional black hole that is the hero's father; "take him to the whorehouse...". Teo. The village. The technical fact of the tabacconist's shadow growing larger against the wall as she moves "away" from the light, just like Mickey Mouse in The Sorcerer's Apprentice. Gradisca. Snow. The spring cottonwood wisps that offer a gently rocking temporal cradle to a story which traipses on the edge between straight narrative and emotional space. Gradisca's wedding. Time becoming a wash as we give up our dreams and settle down. The end of an era.

Will all this fine feeling and high emotional tone work for me today? If it doesn't, does this reflect on me or this movie? Stay tuned....

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 :(

While this film certainly has some poignant points about life, it is mostly the work of a great artist who has reached an age where he can view his childhood memories from a detached, nostalgic point of view. Visual splendour and humor abound, and it is a thoroughly delightful watch but I still like Fellini more, when he is more personally invested in the problems of his characters, as in Dolce Vita or 8 1/2.

This film is a life journey. Filled with indelible images: The peacock in the middle of the snow, the awesome vision of the ocean liner--and the blind man crying out: "What's it like, what's it like?", the belly-laugh inducing introduction to each of the instructors at school, the beautiful people, the grotesques. Like life itself, the movie can be perplexing and enigmatic, sometimes magical, sometimes, in the face of the political climate and history, frightening as "simple people just trying to live get caught up in the times they were themselves creating". I don't think any film I've ever seen has so completely captured with such profound insight and simplicity the experience of losing a parent: The visit by the father and son in the hospital in which the mother realizes the awesome finality about to approach, and the son is blissfully unaware in his adolescent "immortality", and the total feeling of quiet and emptiness as the father sits at the dining room table, formerly filled with joyful, loud, noisy life--now emptier than could have ever been imagined before--this whole sequence comes as a powerful conclusion to a stunning film. With a final coda a la 8 1/2, Fellini embraces the audience, telling them not to worry--memories go on, life goes on, changed, altered forever perhaps, but it goes on, beautifully, enigmatically, magically.

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.