Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Bloemheuvel, F.M. - Fellini, Federico - Guldemond, Jaap - Star, Walter Van Der - Stourdzé, Sam - Fellini-Amsterdam University Press, EYE (2013)
Bloemheuvel, F.M. - Fellini, Federico - Guldemond, Jaap - Star, Walter Van Der - Stourdzé, Sam - Fellini-Amsterdam University Press, EYE (2013)
1
Fellini
Author and editor
Sam Stourdzé
Editors for EYE
Marente Bloemheuvel
Jaap Guldemond
EYE, Amsterdam
Amsterdam University Press
Popular Culture
Caricatures, juvenilia 20
The photo-novel 22
Mandrake the Magician 26
The voyage of Mastorna 28
Parades 30
Dinners 32
The circus 36
Grotesques 44
Casting sessions 46
The Rugantino 50
Paparazzi 54
Look-alikes 60
The Temptations of Doctor Antonio 64
Mock advertisements 66
Fellini at Work
The scriptwriters 70
The costumes 72
Behind the camera 76
Directing actors 80
Studio 5 84
The helicopter 88
Biographical Imagination
Visions 130
The Book of Dreams 138
Fellini superstar 144
Appendix
Notes 152
Selected bibliography 152
Chronology 153
Filmography 154
Illustration credits 157
Acknowledgements 158
The career of Federico Fellini (1920-1993) lasted for forty years and made him
perhaps the most illustrious of all the filmmakers to have come out of Italy. Those
forty years saw the appearance of titles that have carved out a permanent niche
in the memory of generations of film lovers. The bellowing strongman in La Strada
(1954); the anguished society reporter in La Dolce Vita (1960); the tyrannical
director with the whip in 8½ (1963) or the woman who lovingly clutches the
young boy from the village to her ample bosom: these characters have become
the archetypes who inhabit that universe that we have come to call “Felliniesque.”
A universe in which Fellini’s alter ego appears – often portrayed by Marcello
Mastroianni – in different guises as a participant in an continuous parade of
grotesque human failures.
This book and the exhibition aim to reveal the universe of the filmmaker and the
sources of his rich imagination, and to highlight the essential power of his work.
The story of Fellini’s themes and obsessions is, twenty years after his death, told
by movie stills, set photos and his drawings, as well as by archive material and
posters. The fantasy world of Cinecittà, the studio where Fellini made so many of
his films, is revealed through previously unseen behind-the-scenes pictures that
were taken by photographers such as Gideon Bachmann, Deborah Beer, Pierluigi
Praturlon and Paul Ronald. This publication, which was conceived as a visual
laboratory, shows how Fellini created a mythical image of himself and of Italian
life in his films and in other media, and how he constantly reinterpreted his early
years, his dreams and the images and stories conjured up by his subconscious.
We have chosen not to follow a chronological sequence, but to present
Fellini’s take on the twentieth century – the age of cinema, of course, but also that 4
We owe a huge debt of gratitude to the many people who have worked on this
wide-ranging project. First of all, we should mention Sam Stourdzé who compiled
the (travelling) exhibition and the publication as well as writing the texts for the
publication. NBC Photographie and Carole Troufléau Sandrin were involved in
the production. The collaboration with Sam Stourdzé was especially inspiring,
and we thank him for his enthusiasm and dedication and for his interesting
concept and approach.
Additionally, the cooperation and support of the Fondation Fellini pour le
Cinéma (Sion, Switzerland), the Fondazione Fellini (Rimini, Italy) and the Cineteca
di Bologna are essential to the success of this and any presentation about Fellini.
Design Studio Claus Wiersma conceived the design for the exhibition, which is
both complex and crystal clear. The graphic design of the book and the exhibition
was in the capable hands of the designers at Joseph Plateau. They have produced
a beautiful publication with a contemporary twist.
And last but not least, our thanks go out to all the employees at EYE who
have worked on the book, the exhibition and the accompanying programme with
tremendous dedication and an infectious degree of commitment. I am convinced
that, just as Fellini’s oeuvre has inspired us and many other generations of film
lovers, this book and the exhibition will inspire a new audience and allow it to be
captivated and absorbed by the work of this unrivalled maestro of the cinema.
Buon divertimento!
found it amusing that a story they told one evening would be used by Fellini the
next day. But they all agreed about his talent as a storyteller. Fellini appropriates
stories, he documents himself, meets with people and asks questions. Feeding on
the people surrounding him, he absorbs reality and fits it into his films.
Circus Fellini
Before embarking on a career in film, the boy from Rimini, who had moved to
Rome at the age of nineteen, worked as a cartoonist for popular magazines such
as 420, Travaso and Marc’Aurelio. Fellini wrote little, and concentrated on
drawing. In 1944, he opened the Funny Face Shop,2 (ill. 2) where he drew
caricatures of passers-by, mostly GIs stationed in the city (ill. 3). As a master of
caricature he needed just a few lines to capture a situation, constructing a world
inhabited by grotesque figures, a now familiar universe that would soon become
known under the name “Felliniesque.”
Fellini’s oeuvre largely found its inspiration in the circus and its great parade. In
The Clowns (1970), a child (the little Fellini) is terrified by the frightening
spectacle and leaves the circus in tears. Back in his room, he confesses off-screen
in Fellini’s own voice:
The evening ended abruptly. The clowns didn’t made me laugh, on the
contrary, they terrified me. Those plaster faces and enigmatic expressions,
those drunken masks, the shouts, the laughter, the stupid and cruel pranks
reminded me of those other strange and disturbing characters that can be
found in every provincial town.
Among this maelstrom of grotesque mugs, the viewer recognises the depraved
tramp Giovannone, the midget nun (only one foot tall) who divides her time between
the convent and the insane asylum, the matron who brings her husband home in
a wheelbarrow, and the invalid WW I veteran in his wheelchair, accompanied
by Signora Ines, who knows every one of Mussolini’s speeches by heart.
But who are they, that large family of strange individuals who populate Fellini’s
films? Entertainers? Memories? Props of the spectacle? Do they form the counter
part of the story, or its complements? They are living caricatures, heirs to the 2 Fellini (left) in front of the Funny Face Shop,
tradition of the grotesque, filmed with gusto by the director.4 They form the world c. 1944.
according to Fellini, halfway between carnival and slum. Together they form the
great parade of Circus Fellini.
If we liken these extravagant, but very real characters to clowns, and if the
cinema can be equated to the circus, then the teeming world we discover under
the big top is a very strange one, which seems to have found its interpreter in 9
Recurring motifs
In a filmed interview from 1961, Fellini talks about the time when, as a child, he
ran away from home and spent the day among circus people.5 This story of a rite
of passage ends when the incredulous interviewer asks: “Is that really, really
true?” Wondering why anyone would still want to know the truth, the annoyed
Fellini retorts: “No, but anyway, so what if it is accurate or not…” This is an
awkward formulation of one of his cinematographic mottos: when he is directing,
the truth as such always comes second.
I Vitelloni (1953) is his first venture into biographical fiction. For his fourth
film, Fellini draws on his childhood memories.6 A band of young adults – loafers,
vitelloni – who are continually playing pranks, drift idly through a grim and
dreary provincial town (Rimini?). They all dream of leaving, but in the end only
Moraldo (Franco Interlenghi) has the courage to move to Rome. Twenty years
later, Amarcord (1973) tells a similar story. This time the main characters are a
group of adolescents. Their pranks bring a ray of light to an otherwise gloomy
town, Rimini, which for the occasion has been recreated in the studio.7 Their
mischief is punctuated by female figures who embody the agonies and ecstasies
of their sexual desire.
In each consecutive film Fellini tells the same story, not by picking up where
he has left off, but by changing his perspective, as if he were shifting his camera
angle. From I Vitelloni to Amarcord, the main characters become younger, while
at the same time Fellini expands his cinematographic vocabulary. His growing
command of narrative techniques prompts him to introduce a new character with
an undetermined status in Amarcord, a narrator who inserts himself between the
3 Federico Fellini, caricature, from the period
spectator and the story, reminding us that the cinema mediates between the in Rimini.
viewer and reality.
Female obsessions
Fellini stages the same events in his life in a number of films. This recurrence is
not mere repetition, but rather an attempt to tell a different version of the same
story and enrich its meaning. In this respect, the comparison of two sequences,
the confession in Amarcord and the visions in City of Women (1980), sheds light
on the development of the filmmaker’s vision.8 In City of Women, Fellini first
proposes a typology of femininity, which he further expands in Amarcord.
Titta (Bruno Zanin), the main character of Amarcord, is questioned by the
priest: “Do you touch yourself? Do you know Saint Louis weeps when you touch
yourself!” The adolescent says to himself: “But how can you not touch yourself
when she looks at you that way?…” In an introspective moment, Titta makes an
inventory of the female species, full of mammary and gluteal protuberances…
The list of his obsessions includes the buxom tobacconist with the tantalising
bosom, the math teacher with the appearance of a lioness, the peasant women of
Saint Anthony straddling their bicycles, the unabashedly nymphomaniac
Volpina, and finally the femme fatale Gradisca entering a movie theatre.
In fact we are already well-acquainted with the Felliniesque women who
populate his films: isn’t Saraghina in 8½ a carbon copy of Volpina in Amarcord,
isn’t the tobacconist in Amarcord the same as the peasant woman in City of
Women?9
The sequence of visions in City of Women is based on the same model, a
typology cast in the narrative form of a memory. It is not the simple confession of
an adolescent, but an incursion into the subconscious of the character played by 10
I have found again and again in my professional work that the images and
ideas that dreams contain cannot possibly be explained solely in terms of
memory. They express new thoughts that have never yet reached the thres
hold of consciousness.12
From 8½ onwards, his films become more introspective, and Fellini attempts to
find a cinematographic language capable of translating internal feelings that
fluctuate between the unconscious, memories and dreams. In a letter to his friend
Georges Simenon, another confirmed Jungian, Fellini describes the scene in City
of Women as follows:
I am now filming sequences, which I have given the generic name ‘visions’:
it is a long journey, a protracted fall of the hero who descends along a
spiralling slide, is swallowed up, re-emerges and once again plunges into
the bright obscurity of his female mythology.13
It may seem strange to situate the cinema at the centre of a gallery of women. But
the build-up is subtle: Fellini begins by projecting images of femmes fatales from
old films onto the screen of a cinema, when the auditorium suddenly changes
into a giant bed on which a row of boys masturbate while they gaze at the
screen. Fellini is clearly trying to define his relation with the dark cinema and to
find a place for it among his memories of women.
In Amarcord, Fellini’s approach quickly turns into slapstick. In the erotically
charged scene, Titta follows the magnificent Gradisca (Magali Noël) into a
cinema. The eager adolescent, alone in the dark theatre with this incarnation of
the femme fatale, sits down next to her and puts his hand on her thigh. Gradisca,
sensually smoking a cigarette, takes her eyes from the screen and snaps at him:
“Are you looking for something?” The adolescent then flees in a panic.
In Amarcord, the seduction game is played by a man and a woman who
are both watching the same film in the dark cinema. In City of Women, Fellini
sublimates the relationship, making it more abstract. He shifts it from the
auditorium to the screen and vice-versa. It is a radically different treatment of the
same idea. The cinema as a place where the image of a woman is projected, the
dark film theatre as a probable place of origin reflects Fellini’s ambiguous relation
ship with women and film, as if they were indistinguishable. He explained this
4 Federico Fellini, The Book of Dreams, dream
when the film first came out: of late May 1980.
The ritual of going to the cinema is in itself profoundly feminine. The way we
sit together in the dark, in an almost placental situation, the play of shadow
and light, those giant transfigured images. In the cinema, everything has to
do with projection, doesn’t it? And isn’t a woman a kind of screen onto which
men can project their fantasies?14 (ill. 4)
In the 1950s, the reconstruction of Italy, which had been taken up immediately
following the war, had given way to prosperity. The scars of war were healing,
and the country embraced the sweet life, with Rome leading the way. In the new 12
I spent many evenings with the photographers of Via Veneto, talking with
Tazio Secchiaroli and the others and learning about the tricks of their trade:
How they tracked down their prey, what they did to make them nervous and
how they prepared their reports to suit the demands of the different papers.16
In July 1958, near Terni, two children claimed to have seen the Virgin Mary. The
photographer Tazio Secchiaroli covered the event and published his photo-report
in Settimano Giorno. Two years later, Fellini filmed the same miracle, the popular
hysteria and the accompanying media circus.
In November 1958, Secchiaroli once again made the headlines of the
magazines by photographing the striptease of a Turkish dancer in a fashionable
club. The photos were particularly shocking because they showed Rome’s young
jet-setters participating in the debauchery. Fellini would adapt the event for the
striptease scene in La Dolce Vita.
Rock ’n’ roll was conquering Rome. L’Espresso of 26 October 1956 published
photos of people dancing in the streets of the city (ill. 7). Fellini picked up the
story in La Dolce Vita by giving a role to a young singer, Adriano Celentano,
who in the film launches into a frenzied rock ’n’ roll song as Anita Ekberg takes
to the dance floor.
All the visiting stars began to gravitate towards the bars and nightclubs in
the Via Veneto. From that moment on, the grand avenue became the playground
of a new type of photographer, hunting for scoops. For La Dolce Vita, the
spectacle of the Via Veneto and its scent of scandal were recreated in the studio.
In the film, the photographer played by Walter Santesso is called Paparazzo,
a name which would become synonymous with an entire profession: after La Dolce
Vita, scandal photographers became known as paparazzi.17
Many of Fellini’s images have been attributed to his extravagant fantasy,
although they were actually based in real events. This is most notably the case
with the opening scene of La Dolce Vita, which was inspired by a catholic
newsreel showing a statue of Jesus Christ being transported by a helicopter.18
The script of La Dolce Vita, full of references to actual events, depicts life as
it is represented by the new media. In a fascinating to-and-fro between fact and
fiction, Fellini constructs his own reality. By appropriating media events, breaking
with linear narrative and deconstructing the story, Fellini produces a powerful 6 From left to right: Fellini, his assistant Moraldo
statement of the modern turn that his cinema is taking. With his use of biographical Rossi, the photographers Pierluigi Praturlon
and Tazio Secchiaroli, the agent Ezio Vitale
inserts and the mediatisation of reality, he experiments with film and questions and the photographer Sandro Vespasiani,
its form. October 1958.
13
I am Fellini
appearance,” L’Espresso, 26 October 1956.
In this light, let us return to our strange characters and to Fellini’s growing
awareness of a constitutive element in his films. During the process of filming his
own story or image, Fellini wasn’t trying to insert a portrait gallery – something 14
“Federico Fellini is ready to meet anyone who wishes to see him.” During
the following days, I meet hundreds of people. Every idiot in Rome turns up
to see me, including the police. It’s a kind of surreal madhouse, it creates a
very stimulating atmosphere. I look at all of them attentively. I steal
something of each visitor’s personality. One fascinates me because of his tic,
while the other attracts my attention with his glasses. I sometimes add a new
character to my film because I discover a new face. I may see a thousand in
order to pick two, but I assimilate them all. It’s as if they were saying to me,
“Take a good look at us, each of us is a bit of the mosaic you are now
building up.”21
From the beginning Fellini was aware of his special, obsessive bond with the
crowd of extras. It already was a source of inspiration for him in the 1960s when
he first tried to recreate it in his films. The first accounts of this rather unusual
search for actors began to appear in the press. During the preparations for La
Dolce Vita, the weekly magazines Oggi (ill. 8) and L’Espresso published articles
recounting the trials and tribulations of these casting sessions. With titles such as
“Fellini in search of a face” or “Fellini in search of actresses,” the press suggested
that they had almost become a part of folklore. 8 A two-page spread in the magazine Oggi
showing the search for actresses for Fellini’s
Fellini himself tried to reconstruct the true emotions that lie behind the new film, La Dolce Vita, 19 February 1959.
15
Since his first film, Fellini had received letters, often with photos. Each time he met
a potential extra, he kept the portrait and sometimes took notes.
Fellini’s albums contain several thousands of photographs sent by amateur
actors or ordinary people who reacted directly to the power of identification that
film offers.23 With their spontaneous aesthetics that lack the sophistication that is
usually reserved for professional actors, these snapshots from personal albums
were selected with great care.
We see a woman in her sixties, hiding her bare breasts behind a large hat,
looking straight into the camera with a broad smile. Ten or twenty years later, the
girls have changed. Now the breasts are visible and the look provocative. We
also see a group of friends with glasses in their hands: fourteen of them packed
together in a small colour photograph, with a red arrow at top left identifying the
woman who sent the picture, a strange photo, torn in two. One wonders what
has led to this gesture. Why send a picture that reveals so little? As if everything
revolves around showing one’s self, whether too much or too little, in the end it
doesn’t matter. Each photo tells its own story, it is a projection of the self. For
some these pictures represent a transgression of everyday life, and for others the
hope of a glorified individuality. As a whole they form an X-ray of the spirit of an
age, a period which Fellini tried so hard to recreate.
The Funny Face Shop, the store of funny faces reappears in another form.24
This is not the world according to Fellini, but the world as it appeared to Fellini,
the world that answered his call – the one that, rightly or wrongly, considered
itself Felliniesque.
The world of images takes a semantic turn. When Fellini is directing his
extras, he creates his own universe, but when they come spontaneously to him,
each one of them seems to be saying: “I am Fellini.” For these people are
Felliniesque, whereas he is only Fellini!
16
In these three mock documentaries that mark the second part of his career
(A Director’s Notebook, The Clowns and The Interview) – a continuation of his
reflections on the mediatisation of reality –, Fellini pushes his biographical
exploration to its limits by laying the foundations for a recursive cinema, a cinema
that calls on itself to describe itself.
We have come a long way from the neo-realist adventure which he
experienced at the side of Rossellini.26 In the films in which Fellini casts himself in
the role of director,27 cinema calls on itself to narrate the world, establishing itself 10 Federico Fellini, sketch of a prostitute.
not as reality or even as an image of reality, but as the projection of the image of
reality through a succession of filters.28 In the end, isn’t Fellini’s cinema a
cinematographic experiment at the limits of a self-referential cinema that has
continued to question our relation with the world of images?
17
juvenilia
Aurelio and Travaso, he worked in a
vein of schoolboy humour exploiting
the war of the sexes and the comic
effects of repetition. Caricature is an
art of distortion which only needs a
few lines to capture a situation, a pose
or a subject. With his pencil, the young
Fellini deftly conjured up a world that
was like a great parade, full of strange
faces and generously endowed
female creatures, a formula which he
would keep using throughout his long
career.
At the same time, he was starting
to write screenplays, working along
side Roberto Rossellini (Rome, Open
City, 1945, Paisà, 1946, Europa ’51,
1952), but also Pietro Germi (In the
Name of the Law, 1948), Luigi
Comencini (Behind Closed Shutters,
1950) and Giorgio Pastina (Came
riera bella presenza offresi, 1951).
In 1950, he co-wrote his first film, Italian poster for Roberto Rossellini’s L’Amore,
Variety Lights, with Alberto Lattuada. screenplay co-written by Fellini, 1948.
Not that Fellini ever gave up drawing.
As a filmmaker, he always carried
some pencils in his pocket and
expressed himself in images as much
as he did in language, using sketches
to convey the situations he wanted to
shoot to his actors and crew and,
starting in the 1960s, transcribing his
own dreams.
20
The photo-novel
Brunella Bovo, The White Sheik, 1952.
22
23
Inside spread and cover (p. 25) of the photo-novel based on Variety Lights, 1950.
24
Mandrake
embodies another recurring Fellinies
que theme: popular entertainment.
Fellini made numerous attempts to
adapt Mandrake’s incredible adven
tures, but to no avail. In fact, it was
the print press that gave him the
the Magician
chance to carry through his project.
As guest editor of the December 1972
issue of Vogue, Fellini, in collaboration
with the photographers Franco Pinna
and Tazio Secchiaroli, came up with a
photo-novel in which Marcello Mastro
ianni played the role of Mandrake.
The ageing Mastroianni also made
an appearance as Mandrake in The
Interview (1987), a film constructed
in the form of a mock documentary,
but this time for the purposes of
advertising. Here, Fellini was not only
having a go at his star’s image; he
was also questioning the value of
cinema when measured by the criteria
of television.
Federico Fellini as guest editor of a special issue of Vogue, photo-novel of the adventures of Mandrake,
December 1972.
26
27
The voyage
was postponed several times, before
it was permanently shelved.
Dino de Laurentiis, though, had
agreed to produce the film. At great
cost, Fellini had sets built of the
cathedral of Cologne and of a life-
of Mastorna
size aeroplane at Dinocittà (the
producer’s studio). He eventually
managed to shoot the first scenes but
then became seriously ill and the
project was put on hold.
In the early 1990s the journalist
Vicenzo Mollica suggested that he
revive the project. The two friends
shared a passion for comics: instead
of a film, Mastorna would be a comic
book! Mollica asked Milo Manara to
get involved. This was the start of a
strange exchange between Mollica,
Fellini and Manara. Fellini drew a
version of the story in the form of a Marcello Mastroianni during a screen test for Il viaggio di G. Mastorna, 1966.
storyboard and gave it to Mollica, who
owned one of the first fax machines
and forwarded the panels to Manara
in Northern Italy. In 1992, this process
eventually led to the publication of Il
viaggio di G. Mastorna, detto Fernet
in the magazine Ciak. Credited to both
Fellini and Manara, this was one of
Fellini’s last works.
28 28
Parades
Procession of prostitutes in a brothel, Fellini’s Roma, 1972.
30 30
Diners
36
38
39
42
43
Satyricon, 1969.
44
sessions
wish to see him.’ The following days I
meet hundreds of people. Every idiot
in Rome turns up to see me, including
the police. It’s a kind of surreal mad
house, it creates a very stimulating
atmosphere. I look at all of them
attentively. I steal something of each
visitor’s personality. […] I may see a
thousand in order to pick two, but I
assimilate them all. It’s as if they were
saying to me, ‘Take a good look at us,
each of us is a bit of the mosaic you
are now building up’.”5
At the interview, potential extras
were asked to leave a photo. This
repertoire of weird faces forms an
astonishing collection, which Fellini
himself classified by type: Interesting
faces, Exotic men, Pretty women,
Photo of would-be actor sent to Fellini.
Ample women with sensual faces, Federico Fellini, casting session for A Director’s
Grannies, Dancers, Ugly mugs, Notebook, 1969.
Generously endowed, Whorish girls,
Naïve and droll girls, Little fag faces,
Clowns, Sophisticated, Funereal
women, etc.
This is not the world according to
Fellini, but the world as it appeared
to Fellini, the world that answered his
call – the one that, rightly or wrongly,
considered itself Felliniesque.
46
Photos of would-be
actors sent to Fellini.
47
48
The Rugantino
Music hall scene, Variety Lights, 1950. Striptease scene, La Dolce Vita, 1960.
50
51
52
53
54
Anouk Aimée and two photographers in the Via Veneto, La Dolce Vita, 1960.
55
57 57
58
Look-alikes
Marlene Dietrich and Kojak, casting for look- Ronald Reagan, Brigitte Bardot, Bette Davis, Woody Allen 1 and Woody
alikes, Ginger and Fred, 1986. Allen 2, casting for look-alikes, Ginger and Fred, 1986.
60 60
The Temptations of
Doctor Antonio Anita Ekberg on an advertisement poster,
“Drink more milk,” The Temptations of Doctor
Antonio (Boccaccio ’70), 1962.
64
65
Mock advertisements
Group of young hippies, Fellini’s Roma, 1972.
Federico Fellini, sketches for a mock poster, The Voice of the Moon, 1990.
66
67
70 70
72
73
Giulietta Masina, costume fitting for the role of Cabiria, Nights of Cabiria, 1957.
74
75
the camera
everything about everyone, to make
love with everything around me.”6
“With the group, we are all in the
same boat so long as the filming lasts.
Then we part ways as if we never
met, like an army of mercenaries who
have been recruited by a different
lord, only to re-establish the same
strong ties a year later. I like that very
much. It is the highest form of social
life I know.”7
In the course of his career, Fellini
received twenty-four Oscar nomina
tions and won eight: four Oscars for
the best foreign language film (for La
Strada in 1956, Nights of Cabiria in
1957, 8½ in 1963 and Amarcord in
1974), three Oscars for the best
costumes (for La Dolce Vita in 1961
and 8½ in 1963, with costumes by
Piero Gherardi, and for Fellini’s
Casanova in 1976, with costumes by
Danilo Donati) and an Oscar for
lifetime achievement in 1993.
On the camera, Federico Fellini had written: Federico Fellini, Nights of Cabiria, 1957.
“Remember that this is a comic film,” 8½, 1963. Federico Fellini, Il Bidone, 1955.
76
77
78
79
Directing
Marcello Mastroianni, La Dolce Vita, 1960.
actors
80
86
87
The helicopter
Christ of the Depths and helicopter accident in the Alps, illustrations in La Domenica del Corriere, 14 September 1958.
88
90
Catholic
publicly attacked Fellini for betraying its
precepts in La Strada (1954), a film that
had been supported by the Church and
earned him the label of “Catholic film
maker.” Certainly, Fellini had begun to
make films that were more concerned
filmmaker?
with individual destiny. La Strada,
Il Bidone (1955) and Nights of Cabiria
(1957) have often been described as
“films of redemption,” and they do
evoke a search by the protagonists for
something that will save their soul. Fellini
himself spoke of “an irresistible, providen
tial force that is innate within us.”1
Torn between an omnipresent Catholic
culture and his own desires as a free
man, in 1957 he wrote to a Jesuit priest:
“Cabiria, my last creature, is also fragile,
tender and unlucky after so much bad
luck and the collapse of her innocent
dream of love, still believes in love and
life. My latest film ends with a lyrical
explosion with musical overtones,
a serenade sung in the woods; it is all
very dramatic because Cabiria carries
in her heart a hidden state of grace that
she has just discovered. It is kinder to
leave Cabiria the joy of telling us if this
grace is her finding God.”2
Giulietta Masina, coloured photo, Nights of Cabiria, 1957.
92
93
94
Maria Antonietta Beluzzi as the tobacconist, Bruno Zanin as Titta, Amarcord, 1973.
Female obsessions
Federico Fellini, The Leopard Woman.
96
100
Anita Ekberg
Anita Ekberg, La Dolce Vita, 1960
103
105
Anna Magnani
to include her when evoking Rome.
In the film he follows her to her door
and, we hear his voice off screen:
“Can I ask you a question?” “No,
I don’t trust you. Ciao Federico, go
to bed.” This was to be Magnani’s
last film role, concluding their series
of encounters.
107
posters
as told by Titus Livius, who wrote that
the founders of the city, Remus and
Romulus, were brought up by Lupa
(the She-Wolf), this being the name not
of the animal but of the streetwalker
who took them in.
The French poster takes a more
classical approach to Rome’s founda
tion myth. A beautiful naked woman
adopts the posture of the she-wolf. Her
breasts – Fellini’s favourite anatomical
feature – have become the row of teats
that will feed the new Remus and
Romulus for – note this subtle touch –
the founders of the Eternal City do not
appear in this parody. The American
version is more pragmatic: a wolf is a
wolf! In this appropriation of the myth,
the narrative part is concentrated in
the space usually occupied by Remus
and Romulus, where what we see is
Circus Fellini, as if to tell us that
Federico is the true founder of Rome.
108
109
Prostitutes
Fellini held a casting session to find
the actress with the backside that was
most suited for the role. It was then left
up to the make-up crew to fill in the
final details...
110
112
Casanova
cut a long story short, I identify myself
with him… Not as a lover of women,
but as a man who is incapable of
loving women because he is deeply in
love with a fantasy image of women.”11
114
and
put my hat on his head in order to A Director’s Notebook (1969) and
identify him with me, but to give him The Interview (1987), while Fellini’s
an idea, a suggestion. I try to make shadow hangs heavily over partly
him look like me, because for me autobiographical films such as La
that’s the most direct way I have of Dolce Vita, 8½ and City of Women.
thinking about the character and the Conversely, In Ginger and Fred
his
story. It’s a very complicated function, (1986), there is hardly a trace of
made possible only by deep friendship Fellini in the character played by
and an exacerbated exhibitionism.”12 Mastroianni. All we have is a series
Even so, it is often said that the actor of set photos in which the actor seems
was the director’s onscreen double. to mirror the filmmaker by wearing
This identification is perhaps justifi his coat and hat.
double
Self-portraits In my dreams,
I almost always see myself from
behind. I have hair and I’m thinner,
just like I was twenty or thirty years
ago. Here, this is how I see myself
and that’s how I’ll draw myself in the
dreams I write down in this book.
But this is how I should draw myself.13
116
117 117
118 118
119
The myth of
the fountain
Anita Ekberg, Marcello Mastroianni and Federico Fellini
on the set of La Dolce Vita, 1960.
120
121 121
122
124
125
Masina
at her. She probably thinks that my
gaze is not suggested by natural
attraction or professional experience,
but that it is the expression of an
authoritarian and capricious husband.
[…] Giulietta is unaware of her true
and Fellini
talent. She doesn’t know herself. She
mistrusts her comic genius and doesn’t
want to realise that what makes it so
special is precisely the set of expres
sions, between the buffoonish and the
dramatic, which her clown’s face is
capable of simultaneously express
ing.”15
126
Federico Fellini and Giulietta Masina on the set of Nights of Cabiria, 1957.
127 127
128
Visions
The first whore, “visions” sequence, The City of Women, 1980.
130
131
132
135
136 136
of Dreams
and transcribe his dreams.
Between 1960 and 1990 Fellini
filled two big ledgers, the kind used
for production accounts, with his
annotations.
His assiduity in doing so suggests
that this was more than a spontaneous
exercise performed when he woke
up or suffered from bouts of insomnia.
These, after all, were hefty albums
and not the kind of little notebooks
one could keep on a bedside table.
The richness of the colours and the
occasional use of gouache also
confirm that Fellini sat down for long
sessions of drawing.
Not that he was unfailingly regular
over those thirty years in his practice
of putting his obsessions, fears and
anxieties on paper. The ledgers show
large gaps, notably during those
periods when he was filming.
The Book of Dreams can also be
read as an inventory of forms, motifs
and stories, an exercise in style that
the director performed, like a musician
doing his scales, in order to sustain
and stimulate his imagination.
However, there were many setbacks
before the historical document was
eventually published. Although Fellini
did not really concern himself with
his legacy, he was aware of the
document’s value and appointed six
different heirs to take care of the
book. After his death, the six agreed
on two things: they would keep the
precious volume in a safe which
would only be opened when the six
of them had met and decided what
to do with the book.
As the years passed, the six parts
of The Book of Dreams were either
acquired by or bequeathed to the
Fellini Foundation. When the institu
tion finally owned both ledgers, its
patience was further put to the test
because the next generation of heirs
still hadn’t had the opportunity to
meet. Finally, in 2007, the safe
was opened and the Foundation
immediately set about publishing a
facsimile edition of the book. The
whole story probably would have
pleased Fellini.
138
139
140
141
143 143
Superstar
Fellini’s work, as his thoughts about
creativity and the nature of cinema
begin to push him beyond the frontiers
of the real and into an exploration of
the imaginary. Childhood memories,
the unconscious and dreams now
become prominent themes. Fellini him
self also became one of the recurring
subjects of his own cinema, as he
began to theatricalise his own image,
a fact reflected in the posters for 8½.
The French posters played on the
synergy between Fellini and Mastro
ianni: a large 8 wearing Mastroianni’s
hat and spectacles is sitting in the
director’s chair on which we can read
the name FELLINI in capital letters.
The series of Italian lobby cards –
the fotobustas – show a more subtle
take on the same idea. On each card
two photos are placed next to each
other: in the middle, a colour image
of a scene with Mastroianni, and in
the margin a black and white photo
showing Fellini directing the film.
This juxtaposition of Mastroianni and
Fellini, of the film and what is happen
ing behind the scenes, indicates that
the director has become the object of
his own cinema. The film’s obscure-
sounding title is in fact simply a
reminder that it was movie number
eight-and-a-half: Variety Lights
(1950), which he codirected with
Alberto Lattuada, counts for only one
half, as do his two shorts, A Marriage
Agency (1953) and The Temptations
of Doctor Antonio (1962). In the films
that followed, Fellini explored the
same themes and continued to assert
his presence, either by adding his
name to the titles of his films – Fellini’s
Satyricon (1969), Fellini’s Roma
– or by playing himself in the role of
director, as in Fellini’s Roma and
The Interview.
144 144
Federico Fellini and Michelangelo Antonioni at Cinecittà during the filming of Fellini’s Casanova.
Federico Fellini and Jacques-Henri Lartigue as a priest, Ginger and Fred, 1986.
146 146
147
148
Federico Fellini.
149
150
Acknowledgements
Sam Stourdzé,
Carole Troufléau
159