by Allan Fish
(Italy 1954 105m) DVD1/2
Aka. The Road
All clowns are unhappy
p Carlo Ponti, Dino de Laurentiis d Federico Fellini w Federico Fellini, Ennio Flaiano, Tullio Pinelli ph Otello Martelli ed Leo Cattozzo, Lina Caterini m Nino Rota art Mario Ravasco, E.Cervelli
Giulietta Masina (Gelsomina di Constanzo), Anthony Quinn (Zampano), Richard Basehart (Matto), Aldo Silvani, Marcello Rovena,
La Strada is a film that still provokes argument to this day. Fellini enthusiasts bickering for over forty years on whether his later gargantuan pieces of semi-autobiography (such as 8½) are superior to the smaller scale, neo-realist influenced films of the fifties (such as I Vitelloni and Nights of Cabiria). In truth, to truly appreciate Fellini’s genius, one must have it all, the small scale joys and the seemingly oversized but scathing later works. They are all circus acts on the same bill, a bill comprised for over thirty years of Fellini’s oeuvre. Certainly one cannot argue with Martin Scorsese when he said that, if you had to watch only one Fellini film to grasp his essence, it would have to be La Strada.
Set in the years just after the war, itinerant strongman Zampano buys the half-witted daughter of a war widow for 10,000 lire to teach her to be his assistant. Thus sold into effective slavery, she follows him with a childish sense of adventure, a sense of adventure sadly checked by Zampano’s brutality. However, the couple soon run into a rival attraction, the tightrope walker known as the Fool, and Gelsomina befriends him instantly, as they share the same sense of wonder.
We always know the film is going to end in tragedy, a remorseless inevitability hanging over proceedings from the very first scene. “If you stay with me, you’ve gotta learn one thing; to shut your mouth!” Quinn tells Masina with characteristic affection. What makes it so painful to watch is that Gelsomina is so childlike that you almost feel he’s treating a child with disdain, and when he starts to use her for sexual favours as well, one almost feels nauseous. It is to the credit of Fellini’s actors that it still works so well after half-a-century and in this most cynical of ages, in which sentiment is sneered at. It was made at a time when Hollywood stars were becoming the fashion in Italian cinema – in the same year producer Ponti made Ulysses with his wife Silvana Mangano, Kirk Douglas and Quinn. Yet there’s no doubt which is Quinn’s greater contribution. For me, along with the later Requiem for a Heavyweight, it’s his finest hour. Never has cinema’s favourite multi-national citizen of the world been so at home with a character, his final breakdown at the realisation of losing his one chance at love still tugging at the heart in spite of his earlier cruelty. Yet Quinn seems merely the sideshow here, rather like his never-changing one dimensional strongman act. The real star is Masina, and surely there has never been a more expressive female face in the history of the cinema. Some may now accuse her of going for pathos overkill, but it’s still a magical, theatrical performance, mixing childlike mischief, simple faith and Chaplinesque balletic comedy.
Of course like many neo-realist films of the earlier decade, there are sublime nods to Hollywood, such as the poster for film noir D.O.A. in the background when Quinn is told of Masina’s death; he, too, seemingly dead on arrival. Having gone blindly against the tide of his own inherent violence and imminent oblivion, moving from one desolate town to another, Quinn, too, seems ready to die, even welcoming death as he sinks to the sand, drunk, in the final scene. Now the road of the title has become a cul-de-sac and Quinn has returned to the beach. Not the same one on which he bought Masina, but the symbolism is plain to see. A symbolism heightened by the score of Nino Rota, so uniquely, playfully his as to be a source of joy for all film lovers (and even looking forward to the seventies Corleone saga with the religious processional dirge which Masina bows down to). Life is indeed a road that comes to an end for all of us, but viewing Fellini’s gem is an essential stop-off in that journey. Bellissimo!
As Fellini said in an interview, “Giulietta is a special case. She is not just the main actress in a number of my films, but their inspiration as well… So, in the case of Giulietta’s films, she herself is the theme”.
Sums it up, Tony.
Terrific review of a genuine classic, Allan. And I love the quote Tony has provided here as well.
Hi! Allan Fish,
Oh! yes, a film that I have finally watched…Thank-you!
Your review of the film (and Tony’s quote) sums it up perfectly too!
Once again! Thank-you!
Dcd 😉
I first saw this film through a film society that screened it in a church basement in 1970. It being 1970, I was on LSD or mescaline — something like that. The film was, as one might expect, something special for me.
In subsequent viewings, though — and absent the drugs — the film remains one of my favorites despite its deceptive simplicity.
Fellini often used the sea, and I think the final scene at the beach, with the evening waves gently lapping at Quinn’s head — as if to massage is character’s conscience — is one of the most beautiful and moving moments ever set to film.
As you suggest, Allan, the exaggerated innocence of Masina does not harm the film for me. Her performances are immune to that.
Thanks, Pierre, I can’t argue with choosing that final beach sequence, there is something majestically melancholy about it.
Nice review of a monumental film. Although I think I might disagree with Scorsese that this isn’t the one Fellini to see to grasp his essence. For that, I think it’s either Nights of Cabiria, which I dearly love, or La Dolce Vita.
Thanks, Rick, though I perhaps disagree with both Scorsese and yourself, I’d go for 8½, but we’ve covered nearly all his masterworks between us (only I Vitelloni excepted, though I know many will want to add Amarcord to the list, which I found rather tired).
Hi! Allan, Sam,Tony, Alexander, Rick,Pierre, and most definitely the WitD readers,
For all you Federico “Felliniphile” coming soon to the Castro is a film by Federico Fellini’s entitled Amarcord
http://www.castrotheatre.com/coming-soon.html
Btw, Alexander, are your ears burning? 🙂
Dcd 😉
Omg! Ha! Ha!….Allan Fish!…Pay know attention to the “Man behind the Curtain.”
Dcd 🙂
Hi! Allan Fish,
I have never watched Federico Fellini’s Amarcord before…Now, that I know you give this film the “Thumbs-down
I guess that I will have to wait to read what other
WitD readers, think about the film
Amarcord.
Tks,
Dcd 😉
Hello Dee Dee!!
I have finally recovered from last night’s Oscars, and I will soon be sending on the interview to you by e mail.
I love the film AMARCORD, and do not agree with Allan’s extreme minority position!
Thanks very much for providing that link!
And thanks for carrying the site for us the last two days. You are the best!
Dcd, Amarcord is my favorite Fellini movie, even if some may argue it is not his best. It is the most biographical of his films, intensely personal, and the most open insight into his psyche, where dreams and his childhood fantasies are the co-fountainhead of his creative universe. It will make you laugh, cry, and wonder at life, and it is his most subtle critique of Italian fascism. Tired? No! It is a mad wild exciting love-filled celebtration and lamentation of childhood.
Well Tony, your statement here is rather definitive. It is a film that many count as one of the “favorites” even while the same people wouldn’t list it among his very best. What you say here about “a celebration of life” is most apt.
Dark City Dame, my recommendation would be to get ahold of as many Fellini films as you can. Each mentioned here is very much worth seeing. To me it’s best to start with the earlier ones — I Vitelloni. . . Even The White Sheik is quite fascinating, touching and funny — the freshness is disarming.
Of Fellini’s later films, Juliet of the Spirits also is well-worth seeing, but it’s not quite at the level of those mentioned here. And I feel Amarcord is best viewed after seeing his earlier stuff — though that shouldn’t keep you from seeing it at the Castro.
Excellent points there Pierre!
I agree that AMARCORD is best appreciated after those other classics are seen and appreciated. I love JULIETS too, and seeing any of these at the Castro must be some treat, one I have never negotiated myself!
I VITTELONI is a real masterpiece.
Hi! Allan, Sam Juliano, Tony and Pierre de Plume,
Thank-you! for your wonderful “feedback” because I “truly appreciate”
different views and opinions about a film or films that I have never watched before…
…Therefore, if I ever view the film “Amarcord” I can reach or formulate my own opinion(s) about the film based on some of the same/different views that I have read so far….
Tks, Dcd 😉
Bonjour! Pierre de Plume,
Merci!…for all the “wonderful information/ recommendation” that you, have provided me with…when it comes to which Federico Fellini’s film(s) that I should seek out to view first… before, I even to attempt to watch Fellini’s “Amarcord.
Merci! Beaucoup!
Dcd 😉
From March 1-5 a new 35mm print of Amarcord will be screening at Firsco’s Castro Theatre. Details
I know this comment is a bit late, but I’ve just begun reading this blog and thought I would relate an interesting experience I had a while back watching two versions of “La Strada,” I’ve seen the entire movie, but I happened to flip on a Spanish-language TV channel that was showing a horribly worn and scratchy print and caught about the last 15-20 minutes. I tuned in just as Quinn is abandoning the sleeping Masina and right before he drives away goes back to her to leave the little trumpet she plays in her act. Just before the end there is a sequence where Quinn hears a peasant woman singing the tune than Masina used to perform as she hangs out her washing and stops to ask her about it. In this version, while he is talking to her, he glances over at the porch where her children, a boy and girl, are sitting, and they are playing with the trumpet. It’s almost like these two children are the ghosts of Masina and Basehart. A few days later I caught exactly the same portion of the movie on Turner Classic Movies (this time a good print of the Janus/Criterion version), and that scene with the children and the trumpet was gone. Quinn simply continues his conversation with the peasant woman, and there are no children at all. What a difference that one short scene and its visual reference to the past made!
Hmm, strange, I don’t remember the shot with the children even in my old TV tapes copy from Auntie Beeb. Will have to check it out when I have time.
Thanks to three people here for their stellar contributions:
Dee Dee (Noirista)
Tony D’Ambra
R.D. Lynch
R.D., you really made our day today!
But obviously not enough to get the poor guy’s name right…he’s obviously got the Sultan of Strange on his mind.