Product Description

Studio: Image Entertainment Release Date: 09/05/2006

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #9454 in DVD
• Brand: Image Entertainment
• Released on: 2006-09-05
• Rating: R (Restricted)
• Aspect ratio: 1.85:1
• Formats: Color, Dolby, DVD, Subtitled, Widescreen, NTSC
• Original language: Greek, Italian
• Subtitled in: English
• Number of discs: 2
• Running time: 123 minutes

Amazon.com essential video
From moment to moment and shot by shot, Amarcord delivers more sheer pleasure than any other Federico Fellini movie. That's not to say it's his greatest film, or that anything in it rivals the emotional, lyrical, or metaphysical wallop of the finest passages in Nights of Cabiria, 8 1/2, La Strada, or even La Dolce Vita, the big early-'60s crossover hit that made the director king of the international film world. But Amarcord was the last clear triumph of Fellini's career, his prodigious gifts for phantasmagoria, amazing fluidity, and gregarious choreography all feeding an emotional core that caught at audiences' heartstrings and carried them away.

The title is supposed to mean "I remember," and the film is ostensibly a memory-dream-diary of life in the director's seaside hometown of Rimini during one year in the 1930s. But Fellini was an irrepressible showman who loved pulling the audience's collective chain, and Amarcord is no more straightforward as a recollection of his real adolescence than "amarcord" is a real word--Fellini made it up as a bit of pretend vernacular. So the strolling town historian who pops up occasionally to supply antiquarian footnotes directly to the camera more often than not gets pelted with snowballs from offscreen. Just as Nino Rota's (wonderful) music score recycles melodies from his scores for earlier Fellini masterworks, Fellini's movie is full of lyric ecstasies--spontaneous parades, comic ceremonies, eye-popping surrealist moments--that exist principally because that is what a Fellini movie is supposed to be like. There's no dominant story line, no individual character or player to be identified as the center of the film's swirling movement. Yet we do get to "know," and begin to cherish, literally dozens of goofy, eccentric, funny/sad creatures who have their distinct places in the continuum of Fellini's made-up town and reimagined Italy of a bygone era.

The era was, of course, that of Facsism. Fellini's take on Fascism here is anything but portentous; the giddy nationalism given voice occasionally by delirious crowds of townsfolk is no more sinister than the same crowd might have been in cheering on the local football team. In the movie's most famous set-piece, dozens of locals put out to sea in small boats to witness the passage of a fabulous ocean liner, the Rex, "the greatest construction of the regime." Waiting, they sleep--till suddenly the luminous (and entirely unreal) vision is towering above them, threatening to swamp them all. The moment is both ecstatic and terrifying. It's not the only one.

One last memory: In 1975 Amarcord received the Oscar for best foreign-language film of 1974. Since the film went into general U.S. release in '75, it was eligible for the Motion Picture Academy to turn around and nominate Fellini again, in '76, for best director and best original screenplay of 1975. He didn't win any further awards, but his repeat appearance in that year's Oscar derby occasioned an exquisite cultural moment: the young Steven Spielberg, realizing that he had not been cited for his direction of Jaws, gasping, "They gave my nomination to Fellini?!" --Richard T. Jameson

On the DVD
Many rereleases and "special editions" of films already available on DVD turn out to be more than a little superfluous. Not so with Amarcord, which was the fourth title Criterion brought out in the 1990s. Advances in telecine technology have made possible a markedly richer, sharper presentation--explained and permissibly bragged about in one of the extras on disc 2--that alone justifies Criterion's 2006 release. Now Giuseppe Rotunno's color cinematography is richer, more breathtakingly gorgeous than any 35mm print '70s audiences could have seen after it had clattered through the projector gate a few times. But there's also a warm and illuminating new 45-minute documentary, Fellini's Homecoming, that should deepen anyone's understanding of and affection for the movie and its creator.

Several lifelong friends of Fellini's--including "Titta," the real-life counterpart of one of the teenage chums in the film--reminisce about the youth and hometown they shared, and about Fellini himself. There's nothing tearily nostalgic or idolatrous in their tone or what they have to say; he and they maintained their friendship throughout his life, and apparently never stopped razzing one another. They portray the mutual estrangement of the town of Rimini and its most celebrated son: how people sniffed that during his rare visits he was never seen on the main street--and how, for his part, Fellini himself avoided the main street precisely because he didn't want to seem to be strutting his celebrity. There's also testimony from Amarcord's great cameraman Giuseppe Rotunno about Fellini's re-creation of Rimini entirely in the Cinecittà studio, the director's fear that even this fabrication would look "too real," and Rotunno's own insight that "deep down he was afraid of being reabsorbed by the past."

Elsewhere, in an audio-only feature accompanied by stills, film critic Gideon Bachmann, a friend (and friendly gadfly) of three decades, interviews Fellini about his working methods and presses him as to whether there is one particular "phantom" the director pursued through all his films ("What is this madman saying?" Fellini protests, to a probably imaginary bystander). Fellini refused to look at dailies because he didn't want to find out that the film he was making wasn't the one he carried in his head. He also prized "obstacles," including uncooperative producers, because they forced him to be creative: "I am very afraid of ideal conditions." Bachmann also interviews Fellini family members.

The audio commentary on the film itself, by two scholars who have written books on Fellini, is far less satisfying. Their insights about sexuality, misogyny, the nature of fascism and so forth are undoubtedly valid, but most of it comes across as academic bloviating--something Fellini would have parodied with relish. But scholar Sam Rhodie's essay "Federico of the Spirits," printed in a monograph with Fellini's pre-Amarcord notes "My Rimini," succinctly defines Fellini's aesthetics overall and those of this film in particular. There are also a charming video remembrance by actress Magali Noël, a hasty and entirely happy substitution in the key role of "Gradisca"; a deleted sequence, visually striking but without sound; the usual collection of stills, theatrical trailer, and (not so usual) radio ads for Amarcord; and an optional, English-dubbed soundtrack for the reading-impaired. --Richard T. Jameson

Customer Reviews

The magic of Fellini
Fellini's theme of coming of age memoir works as a beautiful nostalgic piece. The film resonates from an earlier film of his 8 1/2 showing the director's flashes to his seaside hometown. I've watched this film several times and on every occassion find something new. Here's a tip to enjoy watching a foreign film - Do NOT watch the English dubbed version if there is any - so much is lost in the film. Fellini's films work with subtitles because they make you forget you're reading them at all and as always, Fellini pleases both eye and ear and subsequently the heart. The musical score by Nino Rota is something one looks forward to in every scene. His music perfectly sets the tempo of each image, and I mean each and every one. What a duo of artistic genius these two men are! Watching the film on its excellent Criterion-restored DVD version, one can only wonder what the cinema world would be without Fellini.

Being Oneself:Always an Act of Creation in Amarcord
The theme of this story is the compassion that allows close-knit, small-town Italians in the 1930's to lead a meaningful existence in the context of Fascist oppression and economic hardship.
This story is culturally valuable because it shows the beauty of meaningfully existing, unchanged, amid destructive and oppressive forces. When a peacock lands in the snow with its beautiful, vibrant blue and green feathers, it exemplifies beauty, simply existing, within harsh conditions. The point of the story is not that the characters of this small Italian town make any world-altering advances, but rather that they maintain what they already have and admire--their sense of community and individual compassion--despite oppressive odds. Fellini gives his audience mischievous adolescents, oblivious teachers, a "crazy" uncle, a humorous grandfather, an idealistic and extremely feminine beauty, a generous but sickly mother and her easily-angered husband, dissatisfied workers, a story-telling lawyer, a prince, and a lying snack vendor. And none of these characters is ever treated inhumanely, or as being of any less value than any other. The uncle has an episode in which he climbs a tree and throws rocks at people who try to get him down, all the while yelling, "I want a woman!" Hours pass and the doctor who eventually comes to get him down remarks, "He has normal days, and he has not normal days...Just like us." Through the interaction of these characters, Fellini allows his audiences to encounter a town, the families, a community, and the simple life that exists within it. This film is powerful because it is saying that one does not have to defeat oppression to be worthy of being a model, seen and honored. You have only to live, to be yourself--which means to create--to be something powerful and moving.

Fellini's Other Deeply Personal Extraordinary Film
Like 8 1/2 before it, Amarcord marks an extremely personal film for Fellini. Like his relationship to Guido in 8 1/2, the character of Titta serves as an extension of Fellini on film. Whereas Guido served as an extension of Fellini's state of mind, Titta serves as an extension of Fellini's childhood memories.

Through the retelling of emotional stories that deal with Titta and his family, Amarcord (which translates into "I Remember") presents a cyclical collage of wondrous nostalgia for the Italy of Fellini's childhood. Starting in the spring and ending their one year later with the return of the yearly "puffballs", we are presented with and touched by the many experiences that Titta comes face to face with.

At the same time, the film is much more than a mere visual presentation of Fellini's own nostalgia, for it also questions the true validity of one's own memories. This questioning of memory by Fellini is made apparent in the manner in which single scenes can go from "reality" based to fantasy-like parody back to "reality" based in a manner of moments.

One of the more noteworthy examples of this technique is the scene in which El Duce visits the local town square. In the scene the serious yet joyous procession of El Duce eventually turns into a comedic/fantasy experience in which schoolchildren are shown happily carrying guns in the imagined wedding of two schoolchildren in front of a giant talking Mussolini head. Moments later the film cuts to nightfall, in which the local Fascists soldiers wreak havoc on the town and afterwards interrogate and beat Titta's father. Depending on Fellini's own presentation of the Italian Fascists, (and just as importantly, the view in Italy towards the Fascists at that time) very different interpretations can be read of them. In using such a juxtaposition, Fellini (in his echoing of Arnheim's formalist theory) is purposely trying to express the impossibility of remembering and re-presenting a true account of the past as a result of the individual nature of memory itself.

Another scene that blurs the real and the imagined is Titta's late-night encounter with a large busty Tobacconist (she is given no true name within the film) just as she has closed up her shop. The woman, who Titta has fantasized about at an earlier point in the film, playfully flirts with Titta, a flirtation that eventually ends in a moment of extreme foreplay between the two. But the inexperienced Titta is unable to please the tobacconist, and she soon forces him to stop. At this time she acts as if nothing has happened, she gives him his tobacco and shows him out the store. How much of this was real, and how much of this was imagined both within the film and with regard to Fellini's own experiences? As is the case with many of the other sequences in the film, the answer is left up to the viewer.

Amarcord is thus not so much about reconstructing mirror images of the past, but rather more about how we would like to, and thus do, remember the past through our own distorted points of view. Andrei Tarkovsky deals with very similar themes in his film Mirror, albeit in a manner that is much less entertaining than Amarcord, which was released shortly after Amarcord.

**** (10/10)