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He dreams of writing literature, **high art**, but feels trapped in the gossip columns. It doesn't help that he chases every pretty tail in the immediate vicinity. His poor girlfriend—first time we see her, she's flopped out on the floor, gasping for breath, having poisoned herself. Sadly, she survives to endure this despicable prick with the rest of us.
But there’s hope. A vivacious American film star visits Rome. A giggling floozy, statuesque dumb blonde. She revitalizes his life for a while, then trickles off-screen. Or something.
But there’s hope. A vivacious American film star visits Rome. A giggling floozy, statuesque dumb blonde. She revitalizes his life for a while, then trickles off-screen. Or something.
This movie was difficult to follow.
Scads of colorful one-note characters flit onscreen to do their duties and subsequently skitter off. Plot points pop up, pop back down. Conversations meander, or segue into tastefully unobtrusive philandering.
And methinks Fellini loves his show-within-a-show sequences, whether nightclub, cabaret, circus, or spontaneous rock-and-roll cover by a jazz band.
Somewhere there’s a satire about celebrity worship that remains scarily relevant today. Somewhere there’s a warning against unbridled hedonism, as demonstrated by the dysfunctional upper-upper class. Somewhere, so I hear, there’s even a comedy. I had to dig for it, but only unearthed the fossilized skeleton of an enjoyable film.
Philosophical musing? Social commentary? Revolutionary artistry? Bounced off my drooping eyelids.
In the end, I identify with the journalist protagonist, trapped in the “sweet life” of watching lovely, wealthy, detestable cretins make themselves miserable in pursuit of fun.
180 minutes.
Somewhere there’s a satire about celebrity worship that remains scarily relevant today. Somewhere there’s a warning against unbridled hedonism, as demonstrated by the dysfunctional upper-upper class. Somewhere, so I hear, there’s even a comedy. I had to dig for it, but only unearthed the fossilized skeleton of an enjoyable film.
Philosophical musing? Social commentary? Revolutionary artistry? Bounced off my drooping eyelids.
In the end, I identify with the journalist protagonist, trapped in the “sweet life” of watching lovely, wealthy, detestable cretins make themselves miserable in pursuit of fun.
180 minutes.
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