Amarcord
One of the most captivating aspects of the films of Fellini has been the sheer energy he conveys. I am convinced Fellini was a man who loved life, vibrantly living out his fantasies with glorious women, wine, song, and art. It is an envious existence, one that I am grateful to partially emulate in all my stumbling glory. With Fellini’s movies we find a passageway to his desires and to his experiences. Many of the man’s works stand as open doors to his very soul and as insightful vignettes to a culture that many of us will never understand.
Fellini’s 1973 contribution, Amarcord, displays his vibrancy for life in colourful, voluptuous fashion. At the same time, it is a searing indictment of all that Fellini grew to disdain. He skewers Mussolini and fascism, the Catholic Church, and what he saw as the perpetual adolescence of his people. This is illustrated through the bizarre fantasies and seemingly petty events that his characters rummage through haphazardly.
Essentially Amarcord takes us through one year in the lives of the fictional village of Borgo. Borgo is based on Fellini’s hometown Rimini. We are introduced to the great, crazy citizens of Borgo at first sign of the puffballs (meninas) in the air, signifying the arrival of spring. Winter has gone and the village idiot (Aristide Caporale) lets us know via poetry. We are taken on a whirlwind tour of the village and introduced to its various characters, including the town beauty Gradisca (Magali Noël), the town whore Volpina (Josiane Tanzilli), the sexy and buxom tobacco woman (Maria Antonietta Beluzzi), Titta (Bruno Zanin), Titta’s father (Armando Brancia), and others.
The film takes us through several events and themes, including the annual spring celebration bonfire, a lot of farts, the chaotic school experience, confession, masturbation, family life, lust, sex, a wedding, and so forth. Amarcord, Romagnolo for “I remember,” is life-affirming cinema in that respect. It is not so much about traditional plot devices or entrance points; there is no character to guide us, save for perhaps a rambling lawyer (Luigi Rossi). Instead, we’re on our own in Borgo.
There is a lot going on in Amarcord and it certainly begs a few repeat viewings. At first glance, it is an engaging year in the life of a remarkable group of townspeople. The characters are engaging, the way of life is charming, and there are an awful lot of rambunctious hijinks to see. Fellini’s picture is gleeful, energetic, high-spirited. It is also extraordinarily effortless, almost simple in its approach to the subject.
When Fellini unleashes a barrage of criticism towards, say, the Church, it is natural and free-flowing. His critique is never heavy-handed; rather it functions like breath of fresh air and a natural extension of the story and character. Fellini has always been a sort of effortless filmmaker. Other directors would have possibly laid the “message” on thicker, pushing the energy of the movie in a direction that would have affected the characters in a more considerable fashion. With Amarcord, and indeed most of Fellini’s works, there is spaciousness to his transitions. Everything operates as it should and not as a typical movie screenplay would have it work.
So Amarcord is a truly organic experience and a lovely starting point for those looking for a way in to Federico Fellini’s masterpieces. Others are more involving and perhaps more engrossing, but no other piece exposes where this tremendous talent came from and describes how he came to be with such incredible beauty and humour.
Trailer:
