Fellini’s Amarcord

Upon a first viewing, Fellini’s Armacord seems like an excercise in small town quiantness. The village is small, obscure, and located on the waterfront in Italy. An older gentleman walks us through the narration with wit and charm, and slowly we enter into Fellini’s pre-war, socialist Italy.

It’s a town rife with energy and excitement. A new era of greatness was about to unfold and they were going to be a part of it. Moussolini was in charge, and Gary Cooper was all the onscreen rage. But the real deal is the town and its people.

The town reads like a whos who of Chaucerian characters. There’s a the town whore, the priest obsessed with stamping out masterbation, the schoolboys smoking in the bathroom, talking about sex, the loving matriarch, the mad relative refuses to get down from a tree, screaming that he needs a woman.

All of the lives are deeply intertwined and no one is immune to scrutiny, obsession, or ridicule. During one night of celebration, a group of boys are openly oogling an older lady- in public. There is also room for sentiment. In a particularly touching funeral scene, a group of boy orphans follow the casket of a dead housewife during the procession.

But mostly, it’s chaotic, funny, and beautiful.
Fellini leaves no stone unturned in this movie and even gives us joyous ending, not just a happy one.