8 1/2

It is only appropriate that we honor those works which were so much a part of our formative experience with cinema. Now while this may open up reasons why either Lady and the Tramp or Home Alone should receive consideration here, there are also those foundational films that allowed for film to be viewed through a fuller, more comprehensive lens. For me, no film better exemplifies these qualities than Federico Fellini’s 8 ½ (1963). Few films are as successful in their representation of cinema imitating cinema as this one, and the audacity with which Fellini consistently employs in this work remains visionary.

In it the filmmaker Guido (the great Marcello Mastroianni) is being restricted both financially and artistically, confined to fashioning a science fiction film that now fails to keep his interest. He feels psychologically pressured by an asphyxiating circle of colleagues, denied the ability to pursue his artistic visions, and unable to craft a self-definition all his own. He turns to evasion, but that is ultimately a facile escape, leaving him in a spa and still pestered by the colleagues. Restriction, in sum, is all around him. However, in fantasy he escapes and is free—free to retreat into childhood memories and free to imagine taming a harem of women, from his wife to his mistress, to anyone generally. This desire goes into excess and, indeed, Fellini celebrates the excess, for in it we find life and genuine art.

Within all of this excess there are endless doubling of Guido and Fellini, whether it be the mistresses, the licentiousness, the tawdry offenses, even the seemingly pigheaded visions of what art can become, but through it all Fellini defends his discipline with artistry and craft, something that is more problematic for Guido. Yet Guido too earns a sense of order as he makes his cast and crew conform to his outlandish efforts, culminating in one of the most singular scenes in cinema: the parade of actors that is complete transcendence. Rarely have I been euphoric while watching a film, but this conclusion earns its euphoria every time.

So what, then, might we say this film shows me? It educates me about the context of cinema, pinpointing the struggle for artistry within an industry that tries to dissuade directors from venturing beyond continuity style and renders visible the efforts of a visionary. It also exposes me to a multiplicity of narratives working simultaneously within one mind, chronicling the true-to-life willingness to drift off into space and freedom, composing such oscillations in pure cinematic terms. Finally, though, it is a celebration of art and a argument for the positive, life-affirming qualities that the best of cinema (and all art) can offer, and on those terms I wholeheartedly welcome it every time.

8 1/2: 10/10