Amarcord

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.

When "Amarcord" had it's American premier at the Plaza Theatre on East 58th Street in New York, I was working as the manager of The Paris Theatre, also on 58th Street, just 2 blocks west, behind Bergdorf's and facing the front of the Plaza Hotel.

Both theatres were part of the Cinema-5 circuit of first-run theatres in Manhattan. I often took advantage of the pass privileges that theatres extend to one another and always attended every other theatre in the city to sample their fare.

As I often worked as 'relief' manager of The Plaza, I was well known to the the crew there and had easy access to that theatre at all times. When I first sat through "Amarcord" during it's opening, I realized that I had just seen "THE Finest Film Ever Made". When I told this to others, I was often scoffed at. I was told that the 'Finest Film' hadn't been made yet. That was until the scoffers saw the film for themselves. Every friend I brought to The Plaza to see "Amarcord" was as enchanted with the film as I was.

During it's opening run at the Plaza Theatre in 1974, I must have seen the film at least 50 times. I next saw "Amarcord" at an art house in another city in 1980. Yes, it was still the best film. In the 6 years since it's USA premier I can't say I saw any film better than "Amarcord."

Then, when it was at long last released on videotape in the 1990's, I purchased the tape. When I watched the tape I wept. Yes, it was STILL the finest film ever made. I DO think the world of "Nights of Cabiria", "La Strada", "La Dolce Vita" and "8 1/2". But "Amarcord" is more than just Fellini's greatest work. It is greater than ANY other film, made by any other person or group of persons. I know now, 27 years after I first saw this film, that I will certainly say, 27 years in the future: This is THE film that no film-maker can top.

..In my humble opinion, of course....

"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.

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.

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.