Federico Fellini's 8 1/2 (1963) has a formidable reputation as one of Italy's best movies. It's much more approachable than rivals like The Leopard and L'Avventura, though. Incisive yet playful, it's a self-portrait of an artist at his creative peak, yet unable to overcome interior doubt and external pressure.
Director Guido Anselmi (Marcello Mastroianni) faces a mid-life crisis. He's got a big budget, an expensive set, a leading lady and no idea how to use them. Stuck in a creative rut, he bickers with his producer Pace (Guido Alberti) and long-suffering wife Luisa (Anouk Aimee), who fail to snap him out of his funk. He desperately woos Claudia (Claudia Cardinale), an unapproachable actress who becomes his ideal woman. Guido increasingly retreats into his fantasies, unable to render them onscreen.
What makes 8 1/2 so appealing is its personalized, imaginative approach to film making. Even Hollywood's best films on the subject (Sunset Blvd., Sullivan's Travels) don't go much deeper than showing Tinseltown as a soul-destroying wasteland. 8 1/2 really engages the idea of what it means to be an artist. What's the difference between narcissism and genius, fantasy and self-expression? Is there one?
Fellini's best-known for broad set pieces, and 8 1/2 regularly blurs reality and fantasy. Some scenes flirt with surrealism, like the bizarre flashback with a hideous prostitute (Eddra Gale) and the impromptu beach carnival. Others evoke existentialist dread, like Guido's vision of automobile asphyxiation. But most frame Guido's women problems in comically macho terms. While Claudia meekly becomes his "ideal woman," Guido battles a harem of past lovers with a bullwhip! This reflexivity defines Guido, an interior character sharing his obsessions with the world.
There's a constant contrast between cinema's ideals and its sordid reality. Guido dodges questions about his politics and the "message" of his movies: this could be a dig at auteurist critics, or Marxist directors like Visconti and Pasolini who cram their work with "meaning." An obnoxious critic (Jean Rougeul) bombards him with pompous platitudes about art. Pace lauds Guido as a genius to the press, while threatening him should the film fail. Aspiring actresses offer themselves to Guido in exchange for a role. Guido's forced to admit there's no role for Claudia in his work, so idealized she scarcely seems real.
Mainly though, 8 1/2 reflects Fellini's own insecurities. Notably, Guido doesn't view himself as a genius. Not exactly humble, he nonetheless recognizes his shortcomings. If an artist doesn't work so hard as a coal miner, still it's no easy thing to render one's inner thoughts for an audience. Hence the expansive beach set, where Guido oversees the construction of a rocket ship without knowing what it's for. Hence also Luisa: she tolerates Guido's dalliances but grows frustrated when his navel-gazing leads nowhere. Outside of Woody Allen, it's hard to find a more endearingly self-critical director than Fellini.
Marcello Mastroianni does brilliant work. Mixing arrogance and vulnerability, he makes Guido a credibly harried protagonist. Anouk Aimee gets some meaty scenes, trying to drag Guido back to reality. Claudia Cardinale mostly smiles alluringly, not a stretch for this prettiest of actresses: she landed a far more challenging part in The Leopard that same year. Barbara Steele (Black Sunday) and Madeleine LeBeau play more approachable actresses. Jean Rougeul's pompous writer and Guido Alberti's penny-pinching producer represent both extremes of filmmaking.
Federico Fellini has his detractors, and indeed his flamboyant style can be hard to swallow at times (Satyricon anyone?). But with 8 1/2 he achieves the perfect blend of high art, entertainment and personal vision.
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