Review of

(1963)
The Petaled Swirl of Influences
13 December 2002
Warning: Spoilers
Spoilers herein.

I am generally not a fan of Fellini: his early work is too sentimentally trivial for his talent, and his later work is just lazy. But in this film, he reaches more than one height.

In terms of basic worlds, it is radically heterogeneous: we have visions, memories, dreams, desires, films, reveries, imputed futures, fantasies, showbusiness abstractions: but all are treated with such fluidity that it seems whole. It is nominally about itself, but that is only one dimension of the reflexive folding we have. Many of the other dimensions involve us more than they do him: the sex, the fiction, the writing of a life.

But at the same time it pulls off something that I think is unique: we are meant to assume that the assembly of this film was as accidental and chaotic as the one depicted. But it is clearly not so: like the Chopin piece of `Autumn Sonata,' it is something that comes from a coherent shaping of the ether by a single mind: but it displays all the qualities as if it simply emerged as an artifact of the competing forces shown. The filmmaker is both a result of God's caprice and is God himself. The sex is only there to engage us: the larger issue is the moist, engaging fecundity of creation.

This is a touchstone for folded cinema. It changed everything that followed on screen and to a large extent in our dreams.

Ted's Evaluation -- 4 of 4: Every visually literate person should experience this.
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