2023 Tarkovsky Prize Honorable Mention: Marlena Rohde

LA DOLCE VITA

by Marlena Rohde

Federico Fellini and Marcello Mastroianni first met on a beach in Rome. Fellini told Marcello that he wanted him for a movie he had begun working on, La Dolce Vita, because Marcello was “the face of normal,” and Marcello asked to see the script. Fellini handed him a folder of pages, all blank except for the first, on which Fellini had sketched a man with an enormous phallus swimming in the sea, surrounded by dancing mermaids. When I learned about this interaction, La Dolce Vita suddenly began to make sense to me. La Dolce Vita follows a journalist named Marcello over seven days and seven nights, as he goes from a cynical observer of the wealthy and famous to one of them. Fellini was influenced by Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis, and therefore uses monsters and the subversion of the physical form to make a statement about Marcello. La Dolce Vita uses Marcello’s transformation into a sea creature to criticize his indoctrination into the lives of the wealthy, opening up a broader connection between Fellini’s life and Kafka’s Metamorphosis.

Kafka’s Metamorphosis is about two transformations: the mutation of Gregor Samsa into a bug, and the growth of Samsa’s sister from a girl to a woman. Gregor Samsa, an ordinary traveling salesman, is the sole supporter of his family, until he wakes up one morning as a large insect. Samsa’s family suddenly fears and ignores Samsa, making him compliant and aimless. Samsa’s transformation inadvertently turns his sister, Grete, from a passive girl without passions to the leader of the family. She also dedicates herself to her violin playing, emphasizing her choice to and ability to pursue art, in contrast to Gregor’s hollow career. 

In La Dolce Vita, Marcello undergoes the transformation from man to creature, while Fellini himself undergoes artistic growth that mirrors Grete’s. La Dolce Vita ends with Marcello and the wealthy and famous attendees of an all-night orgy standing around a large sea creature that has washed ashore. “It insists on looking,” says Marcello. Marcello, like the paparazzi and like the audience itself, is unable to turn away from the world of the wealthy and famous. The party picks up the sea creature and carries it home to eat it, and Marcello himself is dragged away from the foreground of the screen, away from the audience, into that inaccessible world. Like Gregor Samsa, Marcello becomes complicit, loses his self sufficiency, in his transformation from man to sea creature, from author and observer to one of them. Like Grete, Fellini seemed to undergo the opposite transformation – he became self-assured and dedicated to his craft. In The Films of Federico Fellini, Peter Bondella writes: “Up to the appearance of La dolce vita, in fact, Fellini's intellectual trajectory seems to be clear: His films begin in the shadow of neorealist portraits of life in the sleepy provinces of Italy, focus upon various forms of show-business types, and ultimately lead toward the capital city of Rome and the "sweet life" of movie stars, gossip columnists, and paparazzi scandalmongers. After that point, Fellini's cinema turns inward toward an overriding concern with memory, dreams, a meditation on the nature of cinematic artistry, and the director's fantasies.” La Dolce Vita was a turning point in Fellini’s career, away from the neorealism that had a grip on Italian cinema, and towards art films regarding his childhood, his dreams, Italian history, and the nature of cinema. After La Dolce Vita, Fellini no longer cared about commercial success. His films became more personal and artistic, with 8 ½, The Satyricon, and Casanova. Fellini blossomed into an artist with his own style and a real belief in his work and its authority. 

Marcello interpreted the man with the large phallus, surrounded by mermaids, to be a self-portrait of Fellini. I agree. Fellini himself came from humble parents in the small tourist town of Rimini, and dreamed of going to Rome. By the time he began working on La Dolce Vita, Fellini had been fully incorporated into the empty but glamorous world of the wealthy and famous. In the image from the script, he drew himself as malformed, almost inhuman, and surrounded by people who were glamorous and beautiful but also mythical. Marcello is an extension of Fellini, the dreamer from Rimini who had creative pursuits but didn’t know how to follow them, or how to believe in them. I think that in La Dolce Vita, Fellini was forced to see what he could become, the final stage of his transition in the sea: the washed up sea creature. And I think that by confronting that image, Fellini was able to turn away and begin making art for himself. But the audience insists on looking.

2011 Tarkovsky Prize 2nd Place: Abigail Schott-Rosenfield

HOPE IN LA DOLCE VITA

By Abigail Schott-Rosenfield

John Gardner writes in The Art of Fiction that people shouldn’t write if what they are portraying is completely hopeless. “If there is bad to be said, he [the artist] should say it in a way that reflects the truth that, though we see the evil, we choose to continue among the living.” La Dolce Vita is a film about the decadent life that many of the Italians of that time led, about what happens when people have too much money and idleness. Although many awful things occur in the film, La Dolce Vita is portrayed in a way that is not hopeless.

An example of this is the scene when Marcello and Emma are fighting in Marcello’s car. At first Emma won’t get back into the car, but then she won’t get out: “‘Where are you going, stupid? Come here,’ [says Marcello.] ‘No,’ [says Emma.] … ‘Get out of this car!’ [says Marcello.] ‘No!’ [says Emma.]” Marcello wants to be rid of Emma’s “aggressive, sticky, maternal love,” but he keeps coming back to her anyway; he leaves her on the side of the road, then comes back in the morning and ends up in bed with her. It is obvious that their love is unhealthy, but the scene is constructed hilariously. By the end of the scene, the viewer is not overcome with the anguish of Marcello and Emma’s relationship, although the sadness in the scene is clearly felt.

Marcello is a writer at heart, but he is too obsessed with “the sweet life” to realize it or to become a writer. The scene at the very center of the movie where he is working on his book is the one scene where he is trying to write for himself, putting his talents to use—but he writes hardly anything. Marcello is wasting the only time he has given himself to be a writer, but the scene is also hopeful: at least there is a brief interval where he tries to do what he is meant to do. He compares the serving girl, Paola, to an angel: in fact, the whole scene is a kind of heaven, like the eye of a hurricane. Even though Marcello writes next to nothing and goes back to his regular life fast, there has been one moment of truth for him.

Then at the end of the movie, Paola shows up again. She’s gesturing to Marcello across an estuary, making typing motions, reminding him of his true calling. But the wind is too strong; he can’t hear her. He is too far off the path of his writing to be able to interpret her signs. But after he turns away, Paola smiles. The movie ends like this, with a long close up of the little angel smiling. It ends with a remembrance of the small, good, hopeful time when Marcello was trying to be himself. Paola is still smiling after him, smiling in the face of how sad it is that he can’t see what he should be doing.

John Gardner wrote also that “every writer should be aware that he might be read by the desperate, by people who might be persuaded towards life or death.” This is not a movie that will leave you walking away wishing that you had never watched it. Although it may not be a story of bad becoming good, there are reminders in it that your own “sweet life” is there, if you are able to see it.

2011 Tarkovsky Prize 3rd Place: Midori Chen

EPISODES IN LA DOLCE VITA

by Midori Chen

While Marcello’s many episodes with different people at different places may not seem to be in order of particular importance, each story arc seems to have the plot sequence of 1.) The Encounter, 2.) The High, and finally 3.) The Tragedy. Each Encounter offers the hope of a new life for Marcello, each High convinces him that the life is perfect for him, and each Tragedy sends Marcello’s hopes crumbling down, until, at last, he hits rock bottom at the ending party, with the eye of nature looking up at him, and Marcello being too blind to recognize the girl, and most importantly, his writing, which might have saved him.

The first principal episode is Marcello’s meeting with Maddalena at the nightclub. He sees her by chance, which would be The Encounter. The High would be when they went to the house of a prostitute and proceeds to make love. When Marcello returns home and finds Emma on the ground, having overdosed, his panicked professions of eternal love is The Tragedy.

The arrival of American actress Sylvia marks the beginning of the “second episode,” and his talk with Sylvia on the top of St. Peter’s dome would be the first time they’ve “met.” There are ups and downs in the events following, but mainly, The High would be the party Sylvia dances at, and the overarching Tragedy would be when the sun rises, and the water in the Trevi Fountain gets turned off; it effectively broke the movie-esque spell of love and romance Marcello and Sylvia were in, prompting them to leave.

The third episode is scattered throughout the film, but mainly centers around Marcello’s relationship with the wealthy intellectual Steiner. The Encounter is at a church, where Steiner plays the organ for Marcello. He later invites Marcello to the gathering at his house, where they listen to sounds of nature recorded on tape—a homage to the fact that this is all being portrayed in a movie—natural scenes put into manmade recorders and distributed. While it wasn’t the most “high,” the party would count as the second step. The Tragedy is, obviously, the suicide of Steiner after he killed his two children, because he didn’t wish for them to experience the ugly side of the world. Marcello was deeply disturbed at his best friend’s suicide, but goes to pick up Steiner’s wife while paparazzi swarm around them.

Between the parts of the Steiner episode, the Madonna-sighting would be the fourth. Marcello never actually “meets” the children, but the audience does, and The High swiftly follows The Encounter in the rain, as the children run around, pointing at empty places, claiming they see the Madonna, and the crowd follows them in an uproar, wanting the blessings of the Virgin Mary to themselves, regardless of their religious teachings, ultimately representing human selfishness. They even stripped the tree that was said to have sheltered the Madonna with its branches. Emma, Marcello’s lover, did so as well, and prayed that she be given Marcello’s sole affection, because she felt him drawing away from him. The Tragedy of the immigrant child being trampled to death after being brought all this way for a blessing from the Madonna ends this episode, with the funeral held at dawn.

The fifth episode is centered around Marcello’s father. They quickly Encounter at the nightclub where the audience first saw Marcello, and The High takes place at the Cha-Cha-Cha Club, as a request of Marcello’s dad. There they encounter Fanny, the father’s female companion of the night, then return to Fanny’s house. Marcello’s father gets sick, however, and requests to be taken to the train station, where he could take the earliest train and be home by ten. The Tragedy occurs when Marcello tries to get him to stay, because they never spent any time together, but his father leaves anyway, in a drunken stupor.

The party at the castle of the aristocrats (the sixth episode) and later the party at the beach house (the seventh episode) do not have particularly clear Encounters, Highs, and Tragedies, though the Encounter could be counted as the audience’s first meetings with the different characters. The Highs, however, are hard to decide, for separate reasons. The sixth episode because while the party was a high itself, it’s hard to say whether the wedding proposal from Maddalena is the High (and her silence subsequently the Tragedy), or the ghost-hunt at the abandoned mansion, along with Marcello’s night with the other woman the High (and their cold parting the Tragedy).

The seventh episode was basically a High entirely in itself, but it’s hard to determined whether it’s the High from the audience’s point of view, or Marcello’s point of view. The audience would say the entire party and the strip tease was the High of that episode, but for Marcello, it would probably be when he was encouraging the drunken orgy from the partygoers. The Tragedy that ends the movie overall, though, is the death of the fish-beast on the beach, and how it stared even in its death. This scene mirrors the opening sequence of the statue of Jesus moving over the city, something manmade watching from above, and the fish from nature at its finest—the ocean—ending everything by watching from below. It gives the movie sequences a sense of symmetry, and ultimately combines the idea of being watched over.

One thing that definitely stood out is the girl Marcello met at the cafe on the beach. He said she was beautiful, and asked why she smiled in response. Later, she appears at the end, and her smiling face closes the movie. While each episode demonstrates an alternative life that is presented to Marcello, the Tragedy in each also marks the darker side of each life, such as the perfect life of Steiner that ended with the death of almost his entire family. The girl—the odd one out of the sequence—represents the ability Marcello possesses to free himself from this fruitless search for a better life—his writing—and her last smile, something pitying and understanding, marks Marcello’s lost into the dark world.

2011 Tarkovsky Prize 1st Place: Mykel Mogg

CHOICE IN LA DOLCE VITA

By Mykel Mogg

La Dolce Vita is about choice. Throughout the film, radically different ideas on each theme are shown. It is mostly left up to the viewer to decide what they take away from it. For example, one of the themes explored is monogamy versus promiscuity. Marcello is trapped in an unhealthy monogamous relationship that shows us the stifling nature of the Italian woman. She is constantly feeding him, taking care of him, and scolding him, much like a mother. When we see the alternative of loveless promiscuity, it is not anywhere near appealing.

Another thing Fellini does this with is the rich and extravagant versus poor and humble. We can see the deep pathetic boredom of the rich in most of the movie's party scenes, but especially the ghost hunt in the mansion. Instead of hunting for game, they are hunting for ghosts of the past because they are no longer relevant in the present. It's like nothing is sacred to them- it has all been trampled on. When Marcello expresses his admiration for Steiner, he talks about the clash of security and materialism versus spirituality. When Steiner commits suicide it seems that he chose spirituality; he couldn't make his children live in the cruelty of the real world.

The film doesn't show the poor life to be somehow morally superior to the rich one. This is perfectly represented with the scene about the prostitute's house. The woman herself is kind and welcoming (probably only because of the money), but they don't really find what they're looking for in her basement. They want an escape from the angst-ridden ennui of having too much money, and end up finding someone who is less human because of her need for money.

A strong motif of religious imagery runs throughout the movie. It pits pagan images against Christian images. Christianity is shown in the helicopter- jesus, being imposed from above and not communicating with the people down below. In the episode where the children “see” the Madonna, it is portrayed as extremely manipulative. Paganism is shown in Sylvia, with a connection to animals and childish delight for life. She embraces the media, and in turn they give her “offerings.” This version of Paganism is portrayed as stupid and naive- she can't escape an abusive relationship, come up with her own answers to questions or even stay on one train of thought for more than thirty seconds.

Another idea that the images of religion bring up is celebrity. The media exploits religion the same way they do famous people in the Madonna scene. The crowd acts in a mob-like way- trying to get a handful of the tree before anyone else. They are also shown raising celebrities to the level of gods- the wild dance where they spin Sylvia, the baptism in the fountain, the Paparazzi constantly following them around to document their every move. Fellini asks us- Have gods become mere celebrities in our world today? Or are celebrities the new gods?

Steiner is the most important person in the movie besides Marcello. To Marcello, he represents the ideal life. He has a loving family, an artistic lifestyle, and he encourages Marcello to pursue serious writing. When he kills himself, Marcello seems to lose his drive for finding meaning in life. This brings up the conflict of whether it's good to idolize people or not- after that, Marcello has no ideal life to strive for, only money.

Marcello ends up choosing riches, celebrity, and promiscuity. We disapprove of his life choices, but see why he made them- the other options are not glorified. The girl at the end is the life he could have chosen- humbleness, simplicity, art, and spirituality- waving goodbye to him as he walks away.

La Dolce Vita is ultimately a film that questions everything. Fellini pits different ideas against each other in a critical and non-dogmatic way, ultimately leaving moral judgments up to each individual viewer. Although it is not a literally realistic film, it perfectly captures the experience of living in a confusing universe where there is no absolute morality to rely on- in short, the modern world. The story points out the flaws in everything without providing an easy way out. It’s a call, a challenge to each person watching to try to find their own way of living.

2019 Tarkovsky Prize First Place: Sebastian Kaplan

Sebastian Kaplan (16, Lowell High School)
Hiding Behind Sunglasses in Fellini’s 8 ½

 8 ½, directed by Federico Fellini is a landmark film, it is a circus, it is theater, it is a dream, and it is all very, very liberating. The idea that the imagination liberates us from the entrapment of life’s absurdities is expressed throughout in dazzling ways.

It begins with a dream of liberation, and quickly breaks the rules of neorealism that Fellini once ascribed to , separating himself from his earlier work- ala The White Sheik (1952) La Strada (1954), and in turn opening himself up to criticism from such men as Guido Aristarco, prolific dean of Marxist film criticism and founder of  Cinema Nuovo (who resembles well the film critic from early in the film). The Camera immediately makes itself known, panning through a traffic jam. Our hero, Guido, played by Marcello Mastroianni is introduced from the back, through the rear view window of his car, in fact we will not see his face at all until the films next sequence  So far few clues are presented to suggest we are in a dream. From the beginning the sound is odd, as if off, lacking car horns or noise except for faint drum, suggestive of a heartbeat. Next  fog spews from the dashboard of the car and an off-putting shot of a busload of people with their arms out, heads covered, might tip some over the edge and into the understanding this is a dream.  After seeing Carla, his ‘fat assed, small headed- placid’ (as described by Fellini himself ) mistress being pleasured by an unknown older man - Guido, promptly looks to those around him in other cars for help as he cannot seem to escape his car,  Guido manages to liberate himself from his vices and tensions, and more importantly the car by climbing out of the roof. Arms outstretched, Guido glides over the cars and Fellini presents us with a very dynamic  image. Guido, freed from the traffic is now free to fly, advancing toward rapidly moving clouds. (Fully in the air I can’t help but think of Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph Of The Will, the gorgeous shots of the sky, and plane that holds Adolf Hitler.) Guido, flying high, looks to escape the world below, discovered by Claudia's press agent, who promptly yanks him down- sending Guido from his unconscious mind back into the possibly more confusing reality of his life.

Although it is dangerous to equate the film completely to Fellini’s  life- it’s hard not to at points. Obviously he didn’t pull the idea of a director who has trouble with his latest film out of thin air, he went through it!  Fellini, began his career as an assistant and writer to Neo Realist director Roberto Rossellini and after making the mad sprawling high life dramedy La Dolce Vita,  expected to be on his feet for his next work. Instead Fellini felt the horror of an inspirational void. Fellini had been fixated for a while now on the idea that a director only lasts ten years before he begins to repeat himself, pointing towards what he deemed exhibits A, Rene Clair, B, G.W Pabst, and C, Jean Renoir for reference. Fellini was panicking when he should have been celebrating and it created an obsession that he decided to make the subject of his new movie. Although the original intent was to have Guido the lead, be a writer struggling to write, Fellini could not decide how to clearly depict this  and so found the idea reborn with the struggle of the director.

After his Neorealist period Fellini found in his hands Carl G. Jung's Memories, Dreams, Reflections (1963) by the fault of Jungian psychoanalyst Dr. Ernst Bernhard. There is no doubt that Carl Jung’s work has found itself into 8 ½ and many of his later films to come, especially the daring Fellini/Satyricon. The most prominent aspect of Jung I found to surface in 8 ½ were Jung's theories on dreams, the Anima and the Animus.

The Anima is most clearest perhaps in what is my favorite segment in the film. About 35 minutes into the film, as pressure mounts on Guido to begin filming, as he won’t even tell actors their roles, he retreats into the comfort of Childhood Memories. We are escorted to a whimsical land of children and mothers in a scene at Guidos Grandmothers, off screen, a woman is humming the “Ricordo d'infanzia” theme. This voice and this music persist through much of the sequence, along with a pattern of notes soothingly played on a guitar. All the women here are bizarre, yet loveable creatures held in great esteem by Guido. As the many children are tucked into bed by seuxalized Nannys  we can look to a quote by Jung selected by Albert Benderosn in his book Critical Approaches To Federico Fellini's 8 ½ ,“His aeros is passive like a child’s. The son hopes to be caught by the mother, sucked in, enveloped and devoured”. Specifically a young Guido is tucked in and embraced with a long kiss by a Nanny in White as the Camera tracks closer, letting us in on the slightly perverse, if not relatable moment.

The women here are very innocent seeming and kindhearted, and don’t give off the impression of wanting to bud anything sexually in the children. Saraghina, is the sort of archetype of woman on the fringe of society, witch, the anima projection responsible for the emergence of Guidos sexual deviance portrayed later on, who nests in a small hut on the beach. Jung in Man and His Symbols  describes a Siberian tale which illustrates the dangerous aspect of the Anima. One day a lonely hunter sees a beautiful woman emerging from the deep forest on the other side of the river. She waves and beckons him to her, singing of embracing him, that her nest is near. He swims to her only for her to transform into an owl and the hunter drowns in the water. The Anima here symbolizes an unreal dream of love, happiness and maternal warmth. When Guido is young he and his schoolmates visit Saraghina, she dances, beckoning him over, they dance only to be caught by Priests, dragged away, similarly to when he is dragged to the press conference towards the end of the film. Interestingly the priests Guido is then brought before are played by women with odd complexes (The only reason, Fellini claims, was that they looked the part). Later Gudio visits his Saraghina, and the scene is accompanied by a final zoom on Saraghina, an odd sort of objectification of her.

 Later in the film, as the line between his life, his film and his fantasies have become so blurred, we wonder if Guido has any life at all outside of his own film. As Carla sings and dances with his wife Guido is serendipitously transported back to La Fattoria Della Donna from earlier in the film, “Here he comes” says his wife as she takes a boiling cauldron of steamy water off the fire. Guido enters bearing gifts to many wonderfully shaped women, the ones who bathed him as a child plus a whole array of wife type archetypes and participants in his sex life. Carla comes from downstairs, a very dangerous place because that is where you’re put after you turn 30 (how wonderful!?). The Cinematography here by Gianni Di Venanzo has incredible depth and eccentricity, as something is always fluttering past the lense of his camera, always moving, like a young man's eyes trying not to be caught staring as beautiful women surround him. The Ramba plays as a Hawaiian girl dances for Guido as he begins to prepare for his maternal bath. It’s a wonderful comic scene, I’d never seen anything like this before-- such a capturing of a rampant teenage, and apparently middle aged mind pulsing with sexual thoughts. Ana Nisi Masa. Memory and fantasy merge as the Nanny in White appears for a brief moment and then he is wrapped in a sheet, perfect male fantasy of regression. Saraghina appearance in the scene reinforces this as she says upon seeing Guido again, “Such nice, thin legs.” and another woman adds on “Straight like when he was a boy”. It’s hilarious and very disturbing but I found myself not being able to say I wished I was where he was, (or did I?).

A showgirl bargains not to be sent upstairs and flaunts herself proving she indeed has a “tight little ass”, later “Look at my chest!”. But Guido, in the fashion of the decadent Roman Emperor (Caligula? Nero seems the better comparison reflecting on Fellini/Satyricon) sentences her upstairs. Saraghina interjects with an infantile high pitched moan and begins to ignite a rebellion against their patriarch, soon the Hawaiian girl shouts “Down with the tyrant! Down with Bluebeard!” as Wagner's Valkyrie creeps in. the women rebel against the god. The lighting here intensifies through use of a technique of pulling on lanterns and swinging them around, the camera work is equally eye catching. As Guido draws a whip the scene goes into full swing- a woman when whipped lets out an “oooh Delicious”, perverse enough? Yeesh.  

This scene for myself, and many others was so wild and inventive, i’d never seen anything like this. This surreal sequence continues and the showgirl is allowed one last song. It’s rather, degrading, embarrassing and depressing in comparison to the fun at the crack of Guidos whip.

 Reflecting the last scene, we fade to a scene of Guido watching Screen tests. Much mirroring here as we see how similar some of the footage is to his life. The film ends soon after.

 All in all this oneiric film guides us to view it in the perspective of dreams. Many films do this; Scorsese’s After Hours . Kubrick’s The Shining and most everything by David Lynch… Though Fellini ensures that the lines between dream, reality, fantasy and memory remain blurred, the audience is forced into a deeper level of involvement. Honestly, I still don’t understand the film. It’s still as much a mystery to me as when I first saw it. I’m serious--  this film is very shaking, it grabs you and slaps your silly face. If you’re afraid of the world around you, afraid of women, afraid of vulnerability, afraid of being disappointed, and afraid of being a disappointment slip on your sunglasses.

Folks, this film is bananas. Everyone should go see it!