Le Casanova de Fellini

If you have ever found yourself watching a movie like Emmanuelle and thinking: "This would be great if it were an 18th century costume drama with less nudity and enough nightmarish surrealism to make even David Lynch weep for mercy," then this is the movie for you.

Donald Sutherland plays the infamous Count Fucula, a man who tries to have sex with everything he sees that resembles a female, and whose sexual technique generally consists of laying on top of a woman and bouncing up and down on her like he's humping a trampoline - and all without ever even taking off his pants!

Short girls, tall girls, blonde girls, brunettes, girls with hunchbacks, female robots.. you name it, he tries to screw it. At one point, I thought he was going to try to make it with a giant turtle. A missed opportunity, if you ask me.

Until now, I thought Satyricon was the weirdest Fellini ever got, but this one makes it look square in comparison.

I totally disagree with the critical trend of discrediting Fellini's later films as symptomatic of his decline. Instead, I believe that Fellini's last films were actually his best. And Casanova, by far Fellin's worst reviewed film, is Fellin's masterpiece-- a sad, funny, wistful, grotesque, Rabelisian epic of a film.

In a way, Casanova is a foil to Fellini's earlier classic La Dolce Vita-- the main difference being that the former is more pessimistic in tone, while the latter is enfused with a youthful optimism. In a way, that's how the films of Fellini have progressed; his earlier films were filled with an almost child-like love for life (albeit with some very dark edges), while his later films became increasingly darker and more depressing. Strangely enough, Fellini's later films were also his best, both on a technical level, and in terms of thematic depth.

Casanova is not only the story of a man, it is also about a whole era-- an era of grand opulence and grand waste. Like in many of Fellini's other films, the protagonist of Casanova serves as a guide for us through a phantasmagoric carnival-like world. Casanova is depicted as a sexually-ravenuous, and deeply cynical man. He is constantly searching for some kind of image of the perfect woman-- an ideal which eventually leads to his own destruction.

Casanova is not a film for everyone-- despite having the usual Fellinisque scenes of ribaldry, Casanova is for the most part slowly paced (it reminds me of Kubrick's Barry Lyndon). Ultimately, Casanova, like Fellini's And the Ship Sails On, is about the passing of a golden age into oblivion. One leaves Casanova feeling both depressed, and yet somehow hopeful. Why?

Perhaps because like all great artists, Fellini realizes that in our darkest hours, we still can hold on to our memories of happier times.

I think this movie has been misunderstood. I have only seen it once and that was in 1978 or so. I had to write a paper about it for an art class so I paid very good attention. I think the theme had to do with loss. He lost every woman he loved starting with the statue that sank in the river. The odd circus woman, and the circus, vanished. The film was most unusual but beautiful - each scene a painting. The scenes and even the story line linger still in my mind. I have not been able to see the film again but would love to to get more insight into the many and various subtleties. The metronome for one was interesting. To me one gage of a good film is one that lingers on in your mind for years. This one qualifies.

Fellini's cinematic vitality was undeniably on the ebb in his later years of filmmaking, and when a director's name can blatantly headline in the film's title, a common demonstration is that he has the autocratic power over his work without any compromise, so it is a good sign for the director's devotees, but sometimes, it is also prone to backfire often due to the auteur's unbridled ego. And FELLINI'S CASANOVA is an exemplar of both cases.

Fellini is quite antipathetic towards his center figure, the Venetian gadabout Giacomo Casanova, maybe partly originates from jealousy, it is a man who is an emblem of libidinal licentiousness (with women), any heterosexual man has the right to be envious.

So loosely based on Casanova's autobiography HISTOIRE DE MA VIE, Fellini unleashes his uncurbed visual creativity to conjure up a series of spectacular mise-en-scène with a hankering for irony and symbolism, often in the form of a theatric piece. The opening gambit, a Carnival in Venice, is onerously undertook to be stupendous and eye-opening, and it is really hard to resist the enthralling allure in Casanova's each and every episode, sex activity is presumably the norm in it, but his on-screen virility brings some visual fatigue pretty soon (due to an R rating) and his action fades into mechanical repetition (certainly, the change of head-wear is a great diversion). After all, the avant-garde production design (using plastic bags to imitate a choppy sea), the 18th Century exquisite art decoration (whether accurate or not), the outlandish period costumes and flamboyant make-up (especially during the lavish banquet set) usurp the crown as the legitimate attention-grabber. With garnishment like Nino Rota's stirring score and literature reference such as Tonino Guerra's La Grande Mouna, 2 hour and 35 minutes is not that long at all.

It is also a career-defining role for Donald Sutherland, although never really being heralded (so does his lengthy and unceasing career), under some visage alteration (a fake nose and a shaved head) his Casanova is not devilishly handsome, may not even physically resemble his character, but he exerts his devotion thoroughly through his bulged eyes, which fixate on his preys with torrid resolution, simultaneously sinister and passionate. Fellini is in no mood to give Casanova a hagiography treatment, so chiefly, Sutherland's effort has been unfairly debased to ridicule and grandstanding, Casanova is much more than a womanizer who is unable to love, willfully, Fellini refuses to disclose the other side of his life, such as a bold adventurer and a luminous writer.

Female objects are never the focal point of the film, they are the objects of desire in the menagerie for our hormone-driven protagonist to conquer with intercourse, only the Angelina the giantess (Sandra Elaine Allen) and Rosalba the mechanical doll (Leda Lojodice) shed dim light on certain pathos for the fate of Casanova besides their eye-popping presence.

Altogether, FELLINI'S CASANOVA is majestic on scale, burlesque on appearance, biased in its stance, but never an awkward anomaly in Fellin's absurdist cannon.

What happens when an extravagant filmmaker makes a movie about an extravagant individual? Well, you obviously reach the height of extravaganza… but is there anything obvious with Fellini?

It starts with the title: why this juxtaposition of the two men's names? "Fellini Roma" made sense as it was the vision of a city from one of his sons, Fellini, not Visconti, De Sica or Risi. But Giacomo Casanova is a historical figure, a literate adventurer who wrote exhaustive memoirs (of undisputed authenticity) that became remarkable accounts of the 18th century customs whether in court or… intercourse, why should Casanova then be linked to Fellini as if he was belonging to him?

The reason is actually startling, Fellini didn't like Casanova, he took him as a self-centered pompous aristocrat who disguised his crass appetites under an efficient mask of sophistication… so the Casanova we see is the Casanova according to Fellini's vision and Fellini is such a larger-than-life figure that he's entitled to portray whoever he wants however he likes. But this argument doesn't hold up very well because 'Casanova' isn't just a name, it became an adjective defining a womanizer, so when the director who expressed to the fullest his lust for women and life's pleasures, makes a film about Casanova, maybe it's because there's something of Casanova in il Maestro, if he doesn't mind.

Indeed, for all his nobility, Casanova is a sex-addict, with a constant craving for the weirdest and most grotesquely unusual performances. Donald Sutherland, with his high stature, his shaven forehead, his false nose and chin and fancy clothes looks like a giant turkey, but within this weird appearance, he stands above his peers, as if his aura elevated him despite himself. He's a complex and paradoxical figure. There's a sort of running-gag where he keeps praising his intellectual and scientific merits, and he was a versatile fellow indeed, but no one ever cares for this aspect. His reputation always precedes him. Am I going too far by thinking that Fellini would share a similar frustration, being constantly associated with his baroque universe made of parties and voluptuousness? A way to show that even the brightest minds embraced sex, as a form of expression?

Now, how about women? The film is as full of sexuality as you would expect from a "Casanova" biopic, but there is something deliberately mechanical and playful in the treatment (one of the most passionate encounters is with a doll actually) as if Casanova's sexual appetites were more driven by a disinterested quest for prowess and games than one of the ideal woman. The visit of the belly of the whale could be seen as Freudian symbolism, but I don't think Casanova had such oedipal impulses as he's not even tempted to join the tourists. We all have one mother, but we can have as many women as we want; they can have motherly roles, but that doesn't seem like what Casanova is looking forward to discovering, diversity is the key.

And as to illustrate this diversity, the film is built on the picaresque episodic structure where Casanova makes many encounters with every kind of women: young, sensual, depraved, weak, fainting, chanting, pretty, freakish, ugly, the film is very repulsive but appealing in an appalling way. And maybe the greatest trick Fellini ever pulled was to confront men with the hypocrisy of monogamy, as Casanova, the Fellinian, is proved right through one simple thing: pornography. The lust for sex has reached such maturity that men aren't aroused by pretty faces and perfect bodies anymore, the uglier, the older, the dirtier sometimes, the better. Fellini and Casanove reconcile men with their polygamist nature.

And this is why I recommend not only the film, but the DVD Bonus Features. In a little documentary made before the shooting, many Italian actors were interviewed about Casanova. Ugo Tognazzi said that in the pre-Revolution period, some dishes were left deliberately rotten in order to have an extra taste or smell, appealing to gourmet tastes. A classic beauty is revered and praised, but that's not what men are looking for. The documentary is followed by a visit to a nightclub and many 'Casanovas' explain their tricks: feigning indifference, being genuinely shy, showing that they care for women, they might not all act like Casanova but they have one thing in common, they know how to create desire, and more than anything, to satisfy it. You just don't earn a womanizing reputation by being impotent. The secret is to be aroused and excited by everything, it's a discipline.

The score of Nino Rota has something mechanical about it, or experimental, but it fits the tone because Casanova took sex seriously, like an accomplished athlete looking for self-improvement, so a sensual music couldn't have worked. But I less enjoyed the sex, a bit outdated even if the treatment was deliberate, than the enigma of Casanova, a man who was ahead of his time because he understood, before everyone, one of the main drivers of society, sex and desire, and he expressed it to the fullest, and we somewhat envy him, although the word 'Casanova' has something pejorative about it, but in Italy, the perception is different, it's a part of the Italian psyche, and like Mastroianni said in the documentary, a psyche symbolized in the film's opening with a giant Venus' statue emerging its head in Venice before plunging again, as if it was all a dream.

The Venus metaphor seems to indicate some guilt behind the 'Casanova' heritage, there's a little of Casanova in every Italian man, in every men, but maybe that's nothing to be proud of. Anyway, like Macchiavelli, the man became an adjective, something our mind can relate to with more or less shame, it's only fitting that the director who made a movie about him, also inspired an adjective. Indeed, there was something Fellinian about Casanova... so the title sounds a bit like a pleonasm.