8½ (The Criterion Collection) [4K UHD]

My rating is more of a 4.5Thanks for reading!𝑰'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉, 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰'𝒎 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅. 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒆. 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓!8 & ½ s a 1963 Italian surrealist psychological comedy-drama film directed and co-written by Federico Fellini.Troubled Italian filmmaker Guido Anselmi struggles with creative stasis as he attempts to get a new movie off the ground. Overwhelmed by his work and personal life, the director retreats into his thoughts, which often focus on his loves, both past and present, and frequently wander into fantastical territory. As he tries to sort out his many entanglements, romantic and otherwise, Anselmi finds his production becoming more and more autobiographical.In the time it takes to complete a single project a director will don countless hats and faces, 8 & ½ centered around the demands of this position and the chaos that transpires on a given film set.Born January, 20th, 1920, Fellini started working on movies in the capacity of a screenwriter, his earliest works including varying radio sketches and recipiency of his first screen credit for 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆'𝒔 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 in 1940. Shortly thereafter Fellini found himself continuously having more responsibility put on his plate, with some assignments requiring him to provide labor he hadn’t expected before: example of which being when he had to some acting of his own while 𝑳'𝑨𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 (1948) was in production. These roles run amok in 8 & ½, eventually culminating in Guido’s hesitancy to hand full reign of a given task to a given (But seemingly qualified) colleague, his worry somewhat rooted in the anticipated receptiveness of his anticipated audience to his final product; likewise, this disposition is further informed by what Fellini’s perceived as overt failures prior to the 8 & ½, as 𝑽𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 (1950) left him with debts that took a decade to resolve on the account of it being poorly received. So begs the question at the root of Guido’s tangential laments and ruminations: Should movies be made primarily for an audience as a remote victory or reflective of its crew as a personal disaster?8 & ½ opens on Guido Anselmi: Marcello Mastroianni bringing just the right amount of cool and cosmopolitan with an almost hitman disposition; as the production he is in charge of unfolds his appearance cracks under the pressure of this creation, in due time revealing someone that isn’t as confident as he appears and further upon at great risk of sinking in to an otherwise listless existence.Anselmi’s woes are interspersed with what can only be described as hazy dreams, the latter more overtly inspired by the subjects of religion and a pair of parental figures whom remain unimpressed by their sons’ abilities after having already passed away. Further investigation reveals to what extent these may be manifestations of insecurity on Fellini’s behalf; prior to working on films Fellini enrolled in a law school for the sake of pleasing his parents (though no record exists of him ever attending a class), and in spite of considering himself to be Catholic he avoided former activity in a corresponding church. No-one can speak with confidence as to what drove this refusal, except to say on the topic of faithfulness in the context of his marriage he was a known transgressor: so much so that in spite of marrying Giulietta Masina in 1943 he attended the funeral of his father with an identified mistress in 1956. Whether out of embarrassment, shame, or whatever else may be attributable, Guido’s stream of consciousness (And disloyalty to his partner Luise), as it play out in 8 & ½ is a muddle of personal experiences, and then some as evidenced by Fellini’s own comments aside:𝑰𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒎𝒔. 𝑻𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒎𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒊𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑰𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒊𝒂𝒔, 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔, 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎.8 & ½ in its infancy came to Fellini in 1960, at that time described as being about a man with an unidentified profession suffering from creative block on the account of his life being disrupted by a “not-too-serious disease”. Given the go ahead to start production in 1962, Fellini would eventually draft a letter confessing that he had “lost his film” with the intent of abandoning the production, this action interrupted by a request to launch the celebration of it; it was only then that Fellini decided to tell a story about a director who know longer knew what kind of film he wanted to make. Both a sign of the times and personal preference, 8 & ½’s dialogue was edited and finalized in its post-production phase: a practice that allowed for the use of less experienced actors at the cost of them needing more direction on set in addition to the dubbing of related noises after the fact. In light of this, and perhaps needless to say, what 8 & ½ reflects in regards to stifled expressiveness feeds into its otherwise harebrained pacing, not to mention the drab of its monotone landscape.During the earlier part of Fellini's career his film related assignments took on an ulterior motive: they allowed for him to avoid the draft associated with a declaration of war made against France and Britain on Benito Mussolini’s behalf, and was something that would inform the nature of his work until approximately 1945. The extent to which this habit of coming on board any given film-related opportunity affected the entirety of his filmography was never addressed - much less inquired about - though it would be appropriate to underscore what this had to have demanded in light of reception that was unpredictable. The good news is that by the time 8 & ½ was released Fellini had made well-enough of a name for himself given the broad applicability of the themes he entertained, though this established competency made him no more immune to the demands made by the Production Studios he’d end up collaborating with: this is most reflected in 8 & ½’s conclusion, as it was originally intended to implicate suicide more explicitly as a ‘viable option’ for Guido. Fairly describable as a tangled mess of hope, fantasy, and some extent delusion, 8 ½ walks that fine line between pleasing the masses and rubbing its own ego, and perhaps that’s why it was robbed of its working title, ‘𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏’; but, then again, maybe that’s what happens when art imitates life and vice versa.

A formidable movie, in the stricter sense of the word. In a looser sense, it has helped shape the way that I’ve seen the world, ‘lo these past six decades. I saw this movie when it first came out, in 1963, at one of my favorite art theaters in Pittsburgh. Like most of us at the time, we’d only viewed rather straightforward movies of “good and evil,” Westerners, and the like. Predictable endings. The director of “8 ½,” Federico Fellini, offered something radically different, a foreshadowing of the stream-of-consciousness technique in literature, how the fragments of one’s life get all jumbled up in the brain. And he provided some takeaways that have long been with me.I was 16 at the time and took a date who was 15. In re-watching it now, if I thought it somewhat baffling at 16, I wonder what my date thought about the portrayal of the women in the movie, who are “fragments” in the life of the movie director, Guido Anselmi, excellently played by Marcello Mastroianni. There is his wife, Luisa, wonderfully played by Anouk Aimée, who was the motive force behind the re-watching of it now. There is the “virginal” Claudia Cardinale, usually in white (I had not realized that she was originally Tunisian). Sandra Milo plays Guido’s flighty bimbo of a mistress. And so many others: The airline stewardess; the caring mom who wraps the infant Guido in a blanket; the first stripper; the insightful and nagging friend of his wife…“Upstairs when you are 40.” That was one of the big takeaways. Anselmi is having this male fantasy about his “harem,” all those fragmented women who are there to serve him and do so in complete harmony when he realizes that the “stripper” is now 40 and must go upstairs, the metaphor for being placed on the “discard pile” for being too old. He gets out his bull whip even, to drive her up the stairs. Even at 16, when 40 is more than twice your life away, it did seem a bit harsh, particularly when the same rule does not apply to the guy with the bull whip.It was also my first viewing of the prototype of those pompous pedantic critics of movies or literature who toss around expressions like “impoverished poetic imagination,” “overabundant symbols,” and, of course, “self-indulgent.”I was in parochial high school at the time, so the scenes in which the priests were chasing down the young student Guido in order to shame and humiliate him because he found sexual imagery to be of interest, imagine that, strongly resonated. It was also the era that the Catholic Church published “The Index of Forbidden Books,” (which now seems to have been taken over by the woke crowd of today), and thus the scene in which Anselmi has to pay homage to the Cardinal also resonated.Anouk Aimée is absolutely mesmerizing. She has been a “fragment” of my own life, ever since I viewed “A Man and a Woman” in the ’60’s. Again, she played opposite the equally formidable Jean-Louis Trintignant, of “Z,” “Three Colors, Red,” and so much else, fame. Far more relevantly, the two of them recently played in “The Best Years of Our Lives,” again directed by Claude Lelouch. Aimée is now a young 90. In her role as Anselmi’s wife, Luisa, she wore those glasses that connotated a greater thoughtfulness than him. I searched that ever-so-youthful face watching for the subtle expressions of later movies.It struck to the core. Luisa is utterly fed up with Guido’s philandering and constant lies. And Guido is suffering from “director’s block” in trying to finish his movie, with what sort of message? Luisa fires off THE classic line that I have long remembered: “But what can you say to strangers when you can’t tell the truth to the one closest to you…”.The only problem is that I’ve felt that line was said in Ingmar Bergman’s “Scenes from a Marriage.” And maybe that line was ALSO said in Bergman’s movie, which means one more movie I need to watch to find out. As I said earlier, things can tend to get jumbled up in the brain, even more so as one ages. Fellini would understand, maybe Aimée would also. 5-stars, plus for Fellini’s classic, formidable film.