||[Mar. 19th, 2004|10:34 am]
Why would Marcello even look at Sandra Milo when Anouk Aimee (in her glasses) is so ravishingly beautiful- and so full of decency and integrity and all that stuff? I guess he's just a man who has to look at every woman who walks by- well, I can relate to that. I love the sister-in-law too, with her spirits and her detached, ironic view of Marcello. I have an imaginary friend just like her. Same hair, same cheekbones, same ever-so-slightly-superior smile. |
It has to be the best film about the creative process ever made. Perhaps it's the only one. And the last five minutes are pure joy. Phew, but we've earned them!
The second best film of all time? Well it's up there somewhere. I'd put it neck and neck with La Dolce Vita. They form a diptych. Or perhaps it's a triptych, with Giulietta as the other wing. Federico stands on the summit, teetering slightly, before beginning the long descent into the valley of too much spaghetti.
A film artist can expect a stretch of ten, maybe fifteen years at the top, says Fellini in one of his recorded conversations. It seems to have been true for him- but not for others (Welles, Bergman, Kubrick, Ford- they just went on and on.) Among the later bloated films I love Roma the best, but I haven't seen that many of them. Where do you get hold of La Voce della Luna for pity's sake? I would love to discover that they are all neglected masterpieces, but I don't suppose they are. Never mind. La Dolce Vita and 8 1/2 are quite enough for one lifetime.