I, in my eyes, walk through the branches.
The branches walk on the river.
They reach a thousand essential things.
They are refrains of refrains.
Among the reeds and the late evening,
how strange to be named Federico!
"How strange to be named Federico" Scola narrates Fellini
Auditions
It's 1939
and this young student from Rimini has come to Rome
dreaming to work for the legendary Marc'A urelio,
the unconventional political satire magazine
that made entire generations laugh.
He's 20.
Actually, 19 to be precise, he was born in 1920.
There he is, ringing the doorbell of the Marc'A urelio editorial office.
Hello, my name is Federico Fellini.
I've written to Mr De Bellis and I'd like to meet him.
- Come in. - Thank you.
- Follow me. - Thank you.
I have to... yes, yes, yes.
You're hanging up? Should I hang up?
No, come on. Should I hang up?
Should I?
Bye, bye. Talk later.
Good morning, hello.
You wrote me from Rimini.
From Rimini, yes.
Beautiful seaside town.
I won the boxing championships there.
1932, Year 10 of the Fascist Era.
What have you got for me?
Here, have a look.
This is funny.
This one's very funny too.
I also have some short stories.
- Lovely, you draw and write. - I do both.
Verba volant, signa manent.
Come with me.
L'll show you Marc'A urelio's think tank.
"Through me among the people that are lost. "
We'll entrust these to Steno, our head writer.
This young man has stories and drawings.
Have a look and let me know.
Young athletes, this is Federico.
Hello, everyone.
- Emperor Federico in Coma! - Instead of in Como...
The Ministry just called about your Hermetic Roet article.
"One can rave about a pale olive".
- Wasn't it funny? - Not to them.
Not to me either, honestly.
A Hermetic poet was nominated National Academic of Italy
and they interpreted it as mockery.
- They said "mockery"? - Meaning "taking the piss".
The Ministry is not as dense as we thought!
So now they want to read everything before it's published.
Listen to this one for the 'centre' Title: Clairvoyance.
"Winston Churchill asks a fortune teller:
- Can you read the future? - Yes, Your Excellency.
Then keep quiet!"
- It's not funny. - It is.
The 'centre' is the cartoon in the middle of the front page.
And the chosen one gets paid double.
- Hi, I'm Ruggero. - Federico, it's a pleasure.
Stop everyone! I've got the centre!
Wonderful.
Title: English Pilot in the Theatre.
"That William Tell is really an idiot:
He hit the apple instead of the kid. "
- Not funny. - L'll explain.
Since English pilots never hit their target...
I see, now I get it.
- Well? - Not funny.
- You're not funny! - Calm down.
It's not centre material, somewhere else perhaps.
- On page seven. - Marc'A urelio only has six.
Boss...
- What is it? The centre? - Not really the centre.
Just keep up thejokes!
Last month,
Ciano made a surprise visit to the "Travaso" office.
Minister Galeazzo Ciano!
- Did you know that? - Shhh, Ciano, Ciano!
Keep joking! L'll be the one interned, not you.
Come on, Vito. We're all more than aware.
And perhaps in despair...
but we will beware and take care.
What can these two say?
Thigh me a river.
No really, what can they say?
One says: "Your husband doesn't make you jealous?"
The other says: "He only cheats on me for money. "
- Title: The Gangster's Wife. - There are no gangsters in Italy.
Change it to: The Wives of New York.
- Yes, but it's still not funny. - Why not? Explain your comment.
- Because it's crap. - I see.
Title: A picnic breakfast.
- Is that Attalo? - Yes, it is.
"Miss, I can see your panties! That's impossible.
Yes, they're sticking out of that man's pocket!"
I like that one.
How about this. At the beach:
"Miss, why don't we have a swim together?"
"Sure, in the deep where we can't touch. "
"Never mind then. What's the point?"
English ships: "Hurry, let's launch it between one torpedo and another. "
- Not funny. - Listen to young Federico's comic:
Argument in the tram. A distinguished gentleman:
"You have no idea who I am.
Another man: Quiet, everyone! He's going to tell us who he is. "
- It's not funny. - No.
- It's not funny. - Let's try another one.
The 'powestion' of suggestion.
- What's that, Miss Sue? - Carrots and 'celerue'
- Good. - Nice.
- Was that one good? - Bad.
Give me your opinion on this tale, brand new.
- Did you write this one? - I did.
"August: In the military barracks... "
- Ok, but is it funny? - No, it's quite dismal.
Then we don't need it. Laughter is our game...
We are silly here, young man.
We want people to cry from laughing.
A story about a bathroom urgency?
- That's funny. - Shit is always funny.
This one is entitled: "Are you even listening to me?"
It's a weekly column. I address someone different every week.
A policeman, a waitress, a model...
The kid's pushing it.
"Are you even listening to me, public bathhouse cashier?"
Attalo, the toilet philosopher, could draw it!
The toilet is his kingdom.
You should see his friends... straight out of a Lombroso book!
Sketches, jokes, and witticism of varied and motley humanity.
Ladies and Knights Aberrant...
Hear them, sir? And they get paid!
Hush up. Let me read.
"I'm talking to you, cashier.
When I run over to your desk,
gritting my teeth, drops of sweat on my forehead,
there's a man speaking slowly.
So, kind lady,
would a hot shower at my age be harmful to me?
Not at all, sir.
Our facilities are regulated to the body's temperature.
Are they now? Could you explain that?
It's at 36.5 degrees,
human body temperature in normal conditions.
So I won't feel any change in temperature.
- Thank you, I'll be back tomorrow. - Goodbye.
What can I offer you?
Loo.
Rardon me, sir? What did you say?
- Loo. - What? Queue?
A bath with aromatic oils and a little milk!
Straight away.
Is there a toilet...
- Manicure. I only pay half. - Why?
I would like a powder puff treatment.
Straight away.
Thank you.
A Turkish bath with hydrating massage!
Straight away.
Of course.
- Enjoy. - Thank you.
- A nice refreshing shower. - Fresh, very fresh.
- Thank you, good day. - Good day.
Hello, an express weight loss treatment.
Well, sir?
Why are you doing this, cruel girl? You're so beautiful,
your eyes glitter and I'll fall in love with you.
L'll walk in here calmly, go up to your desk
and you won't ask what I want because you'll know.
But now I'm talking to you, are you even listening to me?
Well, sir?
Well?
A shave! A nice shave with potassium alum.
Perfect.
- Straight away. - Thank you.
And I'll fall in love with you. L'll walk in here calmly.
One of Marc'A urelio's 300,000 readers
was Scola's grandfather, Rietro
who was blind and had his grandson read it to him.
Here is Ettore at age 9, who read his grandfather historical fiction,
biographies and Napoleon's memoirs.
Luckily on Wednesday and Saturday Marc'A urelio came out, a rare moment
of escape and entertainment in these times of war.
And today is his first encounter with Fellini.
"He hesitates then bursts out: A nice shave with potassium alum. "
What's potassium alum, Grandfather?
An astringent that barbers use.
Does he poop his pants?
One can assume.
What's the title?
"Are you even listening to me?" By Federico.
He must be new.
Shall I read "Decio and Lucio" to you?
Later. The news is on now.
But you did a very fine job today reading.
War bulletin number 262.
On the Greek front, patrol and artillery activity.
Our troops have efficiently bombed military targets,
streets, bridges and enemy hideouts.
Our planes have shot down five Gloster planes in enemy battles.
In Italian East Africa in Giarabub...
Today is a grand day.
His Excellency Ettore Muti is paying us a visit.
These are the young athletes of our magazine
that informs, amuses, and is good luck.
Gioacchino Colizzi, a. k.a. Attalo:
"Genoveffa the Ugly", "Blabbermouth Dandy".
Giovanni Mosca: "Heart" and "School Memories".
Vittorio Metz: "Ilario the Anti-literary".
Marcello Marchesi: "Decio and Lucio".
Mameli Barbara: "Ladies who know what's what".
Stefano Vanzina a. k.a. Steno: "The Herculean".
Ruggero Maccari: "Giggi the Bully".
Enrico De Seta: "Bacù the Magician".
Ferrante Alvaro De Torres: "Orange you glad?"
Federico Fellini: "High School", "Are you even listening to me?"
Of course I'm listening, Camerata Fellini.
And you should cut your hair!
- Steno... - What?
- You jackass! - You think?
Perfect, I think we did fine.
You, Fellini, could have said a different title.
I only have two. What was I to say?
No bloody way I was wearing a black shirt.
Right, we're really a bunch of heroes.
You don't have this problem.
Instead of a black shirt, you just wear a dirty one.
- Funny comedian! - Back to work.
The manly youth
With Roman will, we'll fight!
That day will come when
The great mother of the heroes will call us
For the Duce, for the Nation, for the King.
We will give you an empire overseas!
That day will come when
The great mother of the heroes will call us.
Why didn't you do the Roman salute?
I didn't know it was obligatory. I'm not into politics.
Then why did you reportedly say:
"If Mussolini keeps this up, I just don't know... "
What did you mean?
What did you mean by "I just don't know"?
- A threat? - A threat?
- A mistrust of fascism? - A mistrust of fascism?
- Or subversive propaganda? - Or subversive propaganda?
I don't remember saying that or maybe I said...
Glare at me.
Maybe I said I just don't know how politics works.
Put down your cigarette.
And you don't even know about the gramophone?
What gramophone?
My God, how can one be like that...
If you don't remember the lines, say the numbers.
7, 8, 9...
25, 26, 27, 28, 29...
With constant scorn!
30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35!
What sweet bums!
What a big, sexy woman!
When publishing tomfoolery, controversy and satire,
a deep sense of trust develops among workers.
And strong friendships can arise.
Like that between Fellini and Ruggero Maccari
who began writing for the radio too
and for theatre.
In fact, here we are in a small theatre
where "Faville d'amore" by Mac and Fed is playing.
An elderly person goes to the doctor and says
"Doc, this leg really hurts, I get spasms,
incredible pain.
Doc, what could it be?
It's old age.
But the other one is the same age and it doesn't hurt. "
I wrote that piece.
- It's really nice. - Do you like it?
Ruggero is good too, you know.
He writes for Aldo Fabrizi, the famous Roman comedian.
- Really? I like him. - He's great.
Like that one? I have another, it's shorter.
The doctor comes back the next day.
"Well, I can see you're coughing much better today.
Of course, I practiced all night. "
Two women meet, one says: "How are you?"
"Not bad. How's your husband?"
"My husband's dead. " "I'm so sorry. "
"And yours?" "He's fine, touch wood. "
"My husband touched wood too, in his coffin. "
You really are good.
Ladies and gentlemen, now it's time for the sketch.
- Get lost! - We've had enough!
Get a job!
For three years I bore what you did.
I was in love and knelt before you.
I was foolish and didn't see
that in the world existed
a girl with more charm more plump...
You're wanted on the phone!
...and more blump than you.
You missed your chance now eat this!
You're wanted on the phone!
Where will you find a chap like me?
This girl I found... "
What's happening?
- What did you write? - You wrote it.
You corrected it. You've caused a riot here...
This isn't a shooting range!
This is your wife's fur, give it back to her!
Let's go girls.
Should we leave or wait for the cuckold number?
- Let's go! - It's probably best.
We're leaving?
The cuckold number you wrote is even worse.
- I wrote? - You wrote it.
Two nights ago it went completely different.
They shined the spotlight on me and they applauded
to pay homage to me all alone in the room.
With no witnesses, you can say anything.
- The stalls were full. - Right, full of liars!
Scola knocked on that same door
8 years after Federico.
Even the messenger was the same
and had the same clothes pins on his trousers.
Boss?
There's a guy here called 'Scuola'.
Hello.
Smart tie!
- How old are you? - Sixteen.
- Are you studying? - I'm in high school.
We had a column entitled that.
- Yes, I know. - Do you?
- Fellini wrote it. - Yes, I know.
- You know that too. - I never missed an issue.
So you also know we're working on bringing Marc'A urelio back to life.
After five years of silence
we're bringing it back to our readers.
You know that as well. Good!
You could really grow here. Show me what you have.
"Brief encounter"
"Smile, please"
This is funny.
"The psychic: You are a boxer"
This too, very funny.
Hello?
Hi, how are you?
Fine, fine, yes.
One second.
Maccari!
I'm giving you to our head writer.
Boss?
This young athlete has brought some drawings.
Take care of him.
The door...
Yes, dear.
You call, then you don't... I never know!
Go with Maccari!
Come over here...
As you can see, he had a business call.
You're a good drawer.
- Steinberg style. - I wish!
I can't even hold onto a pencil.
But you're good with a pen. You make us laugh, cry...
I inform and bring fortune. Do you write?
I try.
I have a running story. "The Adventures of Casa Nostra".
Instead of "The Adventures of Casanova". Nice idea.
What is it?
A family sitting together at lunch and the father only uses clichés.
This house is not a hotel,
when he was their age he walked, there were no bikes,
he treated his parents with respect...
Fine, bring it in.
Staff meeting every Tuesday and Friday from 10 to 2.
How can you manage with school?
My school is at Santa Maria Maggiore.
I get out at 12:30 and can be here in ten minutes.
Nights I'm in printing. You could come with.
Sure.
- You spit in it! Admit it! - Me? I don't even spit!
Can you believe it?
This young man contributed to the revival of the Marc'A urelio
and the writing of the first issue of the new edition...
Can you give me a hand?
...that will be in newsstands on March 16, 1948,
on the eve of the elections
which will see the defeat of the Socialist and Communist Front
and the overwhelming victory of the Christian Democrats.
L'll have an 'Ink Brulé' I have to write flaming words.
Metz is here!
We've even got a mascot this time round.
He's Scola, he's working with us.
Your name's Scola?
Here's a song to the tune of "Lola".
Scola, what are you learning in school?
You know nothing about Charleston.
You know nothing about tormenton!
Tormenton is a joke, it's a word that gets repeated.
It's supposed to be funny.
You can't use tormenton instead of Charleston.
Why? Same number of syllables.
But you've already changed Lola to Scola.
In wordplays, you can only change one thing.
You have to decide: Lola or Charleston.
Keep Lola, trust me.
Didn't you once write: Who's been Reking the China?
That had two changes in it.
We can consider that an award allowance.
You always do what you want.
Young athletes, how far have you got?
I'vejust talked to the manager
and they've decided on the issue price: 20 liras.
Who will spend that much! It used to be 60 cents!
Five years ago. There's been a war in the meantime.
- Really? Attalo didn't notice. - Any ideas for the centre?
Yes, Macario interviewed with his dancers.
"And you, Mr Macario, aren't you in the next elections?
No, I already play a clown on stage. "
- L'll draw the dancers. - No, it's too explicit.
It's subtle.
Never mind, we'll use it in "The Boy of the Golden West".
Stealing lines from the magazine for your screenplays?
- No. - They're my lines!
Yes, but in "The Two Orphans", Totò says my lines.
Don't exaggerate!
How many films are you writing now, ten?
Four at the most... Six.
Metz and Marchesi are the two main scriptwriters
for Italian comedic films, together they write for
Macario, Totò, Nino Taranto, Walter Chiari...
Soon they will hire Scola as their ghostwriter.
An anonymous collaborator
whose task is to add lines, gags and jokes to their films:
"Totò Tarzan", "Totò the Sheik", Totò le Mokò", etc.
Like they did with young Fellini,
who was their ghostwriter in Macario's films:
"Lo Vedi Come Sei", "Imputato Alzatevi",
"II Pirata Sono lo!"...
Age and Scarpelli now work at Marc'A urelio too.
They were also ghostwriters for Metz and Marchesi.
Any other ideas?
There's your average Italian man, poor and discouraged,
sitting on the ground in front of posters, writings, insults,
smelly people, panderers, curses, brutes,
excessive prices, shoes for 12,000 liras...
Then Marco Aurelio comes by on horseback.
He looks at the Italian and says:
Making them laugh won't be easy now!
Nice!
- What does this say? - No, this isn't good enough.
Read it, read it.
A boy is calling out to his family:
Come see Grandfather take his last steps!
- Nice, too bitter though. - I like it. L'll draw it.
The centre has to do with current affairs.
I need a "Blabbermouth Dandy" and a "Genoveffa the Ugly".
I have one for Dandy.
He doesn't write them himself?
Him? Have you looked at him?
Just keep taking the piss...
The Blabbermouth Dandy says:
"I saw Traviata at the opera yesterday. "
We see him looking through the key-hole at a hotel
watching a prostitute perform her duties.
- Not funny. It's childish. - No, no, it's good.
Then I add a cartoon: "Hurry up, you can't take all night. "
I have a very ugly Genoveffa.
Genoveffa is ugly.
No, I mean the joke is ugly!
Genoveffa says: "Honey, how will my chambers be in our new home?"
- He says: "Gas chambers!" - L'll take it.
- I've got a Bacù the Magician. - Okay.
The husband says to the wife: "Leave me alone with my thoughts. "
Then Bacù the Magician makes his thoughts visible:
...a crowd of naked women. - It's good.
Done!
Title: The Return. The editorial of the first issue.
Tell me if it's too rhetorical.
"We're back again. Determined to tell the truth at any cost,
to defend the average citizen, to recognise worker's rights,
to support the farmer and finally tell him
how good cheese is with pears. "
It's Federico! Come and see the car he's got!
- Federico! Damn you! - Look who's back from the dead!
- You're loaded rich! - Where did you buy that?
Come down and we'll take a spin.
Let's go!
Hey, pal!
Nice, look at that car.
- Can we all fit? - There's a living room in here!
Where's the bedroom?
Take me to Via Merulana 78.
I should have worn a tux.
Follow that car, quick!
This is the legendary Theatre 5 in Cinecittà.
Fellini's home, where all of his greatest movies were filmed.
Almost all.
In this theatre, the Maestro built cities,
railway stations, stormy seas...
And fascinated millions of viewers worldwide
Not going for a spin with Fellini?
No, I don't know him. But he's nice.
Now he's into cinema...
After this first encounter from a distance,
Fellini's and Scola's paths will meet again.
Rerhaps Federico enjoyed finding some similarities
from his life history in this fine young man.
Fellini arrived in Rome from Rimini at 19 years old
and Scola came from Trevico when he was five.
They both had a passion for drawing,
figures and cartoons.
They both grew up with the same comic books:
Felix the Cat, The Katzenjammer Kids, Bringing Up Father,
Professor Lambicchi...
Well, I can't list them all.
They also had in common...
an obsessive avoidance of all physical activity:
Neither of them ever kicked a football,
were interested in a championship,
nor could they swim.
This was worse for Federico who grew up by the sea
than for Ettore who was born 1,100 meters above sea level,
the highest point of the Apennines in Campania.
And they were both good friends with Ruggero Maccari
who Scola would then partner with,
writing 70 screenplays together
for directors like Mattoli, Steno, Zampa,
Risi, Pietrangeli...
Here are Ettore, Federico and Ruggero late-nighting in a bar.
I was on the radio this morning with Alberto.
Vittorio Veltroni's show. He says he knows you well.
Of course... Vittorio. From "Cico e Rallina" with Giulietta.
What did you bring him?
Alberto Sordi's skit.
- Is it funny? As Metz always asks. - Hope so.
Me too, I want Alberto to star in "The White Sheik".
But the producer doesn't want him, he says he's not funny.
It's good you're doing cinema, writing isn't your thing.
Listen to this review of "Variety Lights".
Here goes.
"Badly written by Federico Fellini, who even wrote with Amidei
"Rome, Open City" and "Paisan" for Rossellini,
this Lattuada film gives you the impression it was improvised".
You're making that up.
My name isn't Federico. Here, read it.
Who is this guy?
Oh! Lanocita...
The same one who praised
Steno and Monicelli's "A Dog's Life" last week.
Screenplay by Ruggero Maccari.
Don't rub it in, Ettore...
I'm not. Box office success proves nothing.
But it makes you money.
Since you've had box office success, go and pay the bill.
As usual! I'm going...
Go, go...
He pays the bill so he can hit on the cashier.
That's why he always takes us here.
As soon as she leaves, he'll say he's tired
and has to leave, then he waits on Via Bissolati
and gives her a lift home...
So tell me about Alberto Sordi's piece.
Do you know "Countess Clara agony aunt"
and "Maria Pia's advice column"?
We're doing a parody. Count Claro and Mario Rio.
Alberto is playing a pathetic loser
who tries to rip off his callers every time...
- I'm leaving. Goodnight. - Goodnight.
...by stealing their heredity, a jacket or a loaf of bread.
Nice!
Well, I'm off.
See you tomorrow at 4 at my place.
- On time, got it? - I'm always on time.
Why? What are you writing together?
A film for Mattoli. Goodnight.
- Is it funny? Tell me. - Tell him about it.
"Two Nights with Cleopatra",
fictional historical comedy with Sordi and Sophia Loren.
Goodnight.
Don't leave. What's the hurry?
There's no hurry. Goodnight.
I'm going home too. I have a Law exam tomorrow.
L'll give you a lift, so you can tell me about the magazine.
How are the meetings? And Metz?
- Everything was always his idea... - Always fighting for the centre...
Fellini loved driving and he treated his insomnia
by taking his friends out in turns for night-time drives:
True and tried kidnappings.
He'd pick up drunks, compulsive liars, dethroned princes,
and even a few streetwalkers...
out of curiosity, out of an uncontrollable love for life.
And with him, that car became a confessional booth.
Life was a party, he loved to say,
so why not live each moment as one?
Hi, honey.
Looking for me?
Want some company?
Still driving around so late?
Just a night-time drive. Would you like to join?
- As long as you pay. - Of course!
I'm going with these two gentlemen, ending the night in style!
L'll call you tomorrow. Goodnight.
- Bye. - Bye, Mona Lisa...
Good evening.
You got lucky.
This is my last night. My farewell to the business.
And why are you retiring so prematurely?
Thanks for saying "prematurely"... I'm moving to Senigallia.
Rome is stressful. Too many seagulls. Too much of everything.
Oscar and I are buying a little house...
I got picked up by a couple the other night too.
They were two aristocrats in some existential crisis.
Their car was as big as a house.
She was very elegant, a Shubert dress.
I thought they wanted a threesome but once we got to my house,
I started making them coffee and they went into the bedroom.
They wanted the experience of having sex in a prostitute's bed.
I'm a sort of psychologist, I even did 2 months of therapy.
And you two... I've already figured it out.
You're two intellectuals in search of inspiration...
Anyway, two hours and they paid my rent for the month.
I was completely broke
after I sent Oscar to pay for the deed in Ancona.
Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a garden,
and a fountain with a dolphin that shoots water out.
Just like I always dreamt.
- What did you dream? - A house with a sea view.
I lived there with Oscar and a bunch of kids.
But they didn't look like Oscar, they were all blonde.
They looked more like Duilio, my previous boyfriend, who dumped me.
Never mind.
Nice dream! Do you dream a lot?
Always, but I never remember them.
Write them down straight away.
I even make little drawings of them.
Right.
What was I talking about? The deed for the house.
I would have gone to sign it,
but I didn't want to miss work.
So I just withdrew all of my savings and gave it to Oscar.
He was supposed to come back Tuesday. What's today?
Friday.
Something must have happened.
He could have called.
Maybe he called me at home. I've been out since 7:00.
- Maybe he's already back. - It's probable.
You're very kind. But I don't think "it's probable".
It doesn't matter, I keep on believing it.
I'm in love!
And for us women, love is everything.
Then comes sex.
The opposite to you men!
Women really are an unknown planet,
something men really want to be with in order to find
a sense of complementarity, sphericity, integrity, wholeness
and that is exactly
the part of oneself that is ignored and is dark.
Sure, sure it is.
Otherwise how do you explain this constant ravishment?
A woman we notice in a bus or on the street.
Just one look, a flash of a smile and straight away...
You want to go to bed with her.
The psychologist got you there!
She does have a point...
You two sure are funny. What are your names?
This is Federico, I'm Ettore.
Nice names. Strange...
I'm Wanda, but everyone calls me "Mona Lisa" since I always smile.
Smiling is good.
Fellini has just finished directing his second film, "I Vitelloni"
which has already been selected for the 14th Venice Film Festival.
Add a little bird here.
I read your piece "Unjustifiable Absence" and liked it.
He involved Gogol and even Kafka.
- What time is it? - Why do you even ask him?
If he says 10:00, it could be either 9 or 11.
Isn't it more fun that way?
I bet at Venice you'll get the Leone D'Oro for lies.
Or the Rinocchio D'Oro for your career.
You'll get the silver pain-in-the-ass prize.
Maybe.
Apart from being a great director,
Fellini is also a great liar, perhaps the biggest in the world.
But... His brain is like this!
As long as you don't end up like this...
Lies weren't really lies to him, they were imagination.
It was seeing what other people can't see.
The Maestro loved talking about when he'd run away.
The first time he was 5, he ran away to join the circus.
Something that never happened, he admitted he made it up.
Mario, this man hasn't paid.
The narrator doesn't pay.
You're the boss.
Authentic getaways into his imagination.
Like his sudden fainting fits that always occurred
in embarrassing situations like breaking up with a girlfriend
or some decision he couldn't put off any longer.
You're right, there's no part in a film.
- There's not even a film. - What a swindler you are.
What's your opinion of our great director Federico Fellini?
He dances.
- And Father Titino did all this? - Exactament.
What is Fellini preparing for us?
- It was wonderful. - I thought it was redundant.
It was odd, unlikely.
They're just his fantasies. Where's the reality?
Reality doesn't exis.
Wonderful job.
Beautiful.
Not really...
The hands!
I can never get the hands right.
Either too small...
or too big,
too knotty,
or too limp.
They look like someone else's hands.
Only Michelangelo and Caravaggio ever got hands right.
Not me. Never.
Why is the saint black?
- That's Saint Nicholas. - St. Nicholas of Bari?
- Was he black? - Not black. Brown.
St. Nicholas was Turkish.
Not a single star out.
The weather's taken a turn for the worse.
Let's hope it doesn't rain.
Once on Isola Tiberina I did a nice Rope Urban II
placing Saint Nicholas' relics under the altar of the basilica.
The weather got bad, it started pouring
and the colours washed away.
- It looked like a Rollock in the end. - Well, that's not so bad.
Want a lift?
Depends... where are you going? I have to go to the station.
- Are you leaving? - No, why?
Come with us then.
Why did you leave a coin?
Where, in the tin?
To show that's where the donations go.
Is there money when you come back?
Of course.
If not, someone who needed it even more took it.
The tin is always there, no one ever takes that.
And who were those children you drew?
The famous miracle of St. Nicholas: The resurrection of the children.
A butcher killed and preserved them in salt
to sell the meat. It's a well-known story.
- You know it, don't you? - No.
Well, that's ignorance for you...
You're amusing and good.
I wasn't really in top form today.
You'd think it doesn't matter but it's everything.
A bank teller, even if he doesn't feel in top form,
can't mix up credits and debits.
Unless he's a crook. But it's different for an artist.
Without inspiration, the artist gets everything wrong.
Colours, perspective, proportions...
I had a certain attraction, ever since I was a child
to certain people in the small town I was born in
who were considered extravagant and looked at with severity:
Artists.
I was fascinated by the fact that they didn't go to the barber,
they had long hair and they didn't bathe much.
I admired them because they were considered vagabonds.
I rarely go to the barber, I rarely bathe,
but that's not enough for art, you need inspiration!
And it's a daily battle.
It's a daily battle for him too. But he wins.
- You paint too? - We work in cinema.
- This is Fellini. - I know who he is.
He shows women with big bums and boobs.
Yes. We're colleagues.
Well, colleagues. Take it easy.
Until further proof, cinema is the seventh art.
Rainting is the third. Don't confuse them.
- Why, do you know them in order? - Of course.
Architecture, Music, Painting,
Sculpture, Poetry, Dance.
And lastly... Cinema.
What's so funny? I'm not a caricature.
It's just that you're very amusing.
Have you been painting long?
I was practically born with chalk in my hand.
Where I come from, they say that you find art in the crib.
I never thought once, when I was a boy,
that I'd be a film director.
I had mixed-up ideas. I knew I wasn't going to be a doctor
like my father wanted.
Or a cardinal, like my mother wanted, I disappointed her.
Having mixed-up ideas helps too.
Certainties destroy inspiration.
Creativity has no rules.
Creativity is a form of disease.
You don't look for the flu, you just get it.
It's a matter of luck.
The moment I'm doing my job,
the moment in which I become a director,
a dark spirit possesses me and directs in my place.
I just let it use my voice, my sense of handiwork,
my attempts at seduction, or plagiarism, or authority.
I get possessed too but something isn't right.
Tonight it couldn't even keep the chalk in its hand.
Cinema is painting too,
even before it becomes literature or theatre,
the objects and the light on the objects...
What is the fundamental component of painting?
What would you say?
Why can't I ever get the hands right?
Look how nice that kissing couple is.
Where? I only see an old man walking by.
But... they were there...
You imagined it.
Then Bacù the Magician appeared and showed me my thoughts.
Well, you never know...
- Maybe they just left... - Rossibly.
During one of their drives,
Scola tells the Maestro about a film he's writing with Age and Scarpelli.
What's it about?
It's about three friends,
who were partisans together in 1943
and they meet up several times throughout 30 years.
Their private and sentimental affairs,
their political passions,
develop in parallel to the history of Italy.
Starting with the Resistance,
all the way to today, the 1970s.
In between the most significant historical events of that era,
I would like to add
scenes from an Italian film that left its mark on those years,
just like "La Dolce Vita".
So you have to play yourself in my film.
- No, no. Out of the question. - What do you mean?
Who'll be Fellini then? A double?
Ask Vittorio De Sica, a real actor, he'd be glad to do it.
- Include "Two Women". - Yes, Vittorio's a great actor.
And "Two Women" marked those years like "La Dolce Vita"
but it addresses an episode from WWII.
I need a film about Italian customs,
myths, and taboos...
about sex, religion.
I have another idea for De Sica,
he will be in the film and will play himself.
- But you have to do this. - No, forget about it.
Fellini tried to get out of it any way he could.
He said he didn't know how to act, that he couldn't, had no time,
that he had changed too much since the days of "La Dolce Vita".
But the truth was that he had already acted for other directors in 1950,
when he wrote an episode with Rossellini in the film "Amore"
called "The Miracle".
A vagabond is mistaken for Joseph
by a feeble-minded farmer woman played by Anna Magnani.
For fun, he and Rossellini decided he would play the vagabond.
They dyed his hair blond and gave him a fake beard.
I'm so happy! Oh joy, St. Joseph.
You are the kindest saint I know.
Yes, otherwise the Lord
wouldn't have entrusted you with Mary and the baby.
So answer my prayer.
You've answered so many already.
You're so kind.
As soon as I prayed to you, you answered me.
But Fellini said it wasn't a good experience
and he was still embarrassed about it.
So there was no convincing him.
Basically, it was clear you couldn't insist with Fellini.
It wasn't clear to Scola so he insisted,
and after many drives,
Fellini finally agreed to play himself
in "We All Loved Each Other So Much".
But on one condition:
He wouldn't be filmed from behind.
"So no one sees my bald spot".
From behind, good.
- Who's that blonde harlot? - Anita Ekberg's stand-in.
- I can't work like this. - They didn't give me a permit!
- Is Anita ready? - She's in make-up.
Okay, take five.
You promised I could work.
Pierluigi, stop it, please!
Excuse me, you have an admirer,
from military secret service, he could help with our permits.
Hello Colonel, how are you? My pleasure.
I'm so proud to shake the great Rossellini's hand.
- I've seen all of your films... - Yes, that's right.
- Sorry, I must go. - Let's go eat.
General break!
Queue up for your meal.
The break will last one hour.
Another important link between the two directors: Marcello Mastroianni.
Fellini adopted Mastroianni as an ideal alter-ego in his main films,
in fact, he took better care of him than himself:
Forcing physical exercise and diets on him that he himself never did.
While Scola gave him less autobiographical roles
and followed Marcello to all the restaurants he chose.
The three friends spent 50 years together,
paying visits to each other on sets or entertaining each other
in the salon of their friend, lawyer Giovanna Cau.
I frankly don't know.
My films come about because I sign a contract,
I get an advance, refuse to give it back so I have to do it.
I don't believe in total freedom of creation.
A creative person left in this dimension of total freedom
would tend not to do anything.
Federico, Marcello, I'm coming with.
A very dangerous thing for an artist is total freedom.
Waiting for inspiration,
this romantic rhetoric.
An artist is psychologically a rebel.
It's someone with a childish need to rebel.
And so in order to rebel, you need parents,
a principal, a priest, the police.
I need a contrast too.
I need someone who irritates me.
I need an enemy so I can defend whatever I do.
- Where's Marcello? - On the phone, as usual.
Hello, Giovanna? Remember, if anyone asks, I'm in Raris.
Also, the marble worker from the cemetery called.
A plot is free with room for twelve and I'm very interested.
I want to buy it.
I want to close it with... can you hear me?
With a simple stone.
1.50m x 1.50m of Reperino stone, a typical Roman stone.
But not the usual sad epitaph...
You can put Marcello Mastroianni, born and died.
It has to be simple.
"I'm not in: Call my attorney".
When he called me for "La Dolce Vita" I went to visit him.
He told me the producer, De Laurentiis, wanted Raul Newman.
But Newman was too important, too exceptional.
He wanted someone with an ordinary face...
What are you saying? I picked you, not Raul Newman.
Newman would never do a film with you!
Mother, what are you doing here?
I have something to say to Mr Scola.
Why do you always make my son so ugly in your films?
Fellini makes him handsome!
I got that off my chest, goodbye.
She's right: "Mothers think their ugly ducklings are beautiful".
He's no ugly duckling, he's cute with an ordinary face.
Not again!
Is that why Fellini, before he started filming "Casanova",
auditioned all the greatest Italian actors except Marcello?
Did he want a less ordinary face?
He auditioned Gassman, Tognazzi, Sordi but not Mastroianni.
You know he invited everyone.
He even talked to... you know... I'm not going to name names.
How could he not offer "Casanova" to his pal Snaporaz?
Look...
Aren't I the spitting image?
- Don't I look just like him? - A little.
Identical.
Refined.
Spectacles.
- What's this? - I don't know.
Bold.
What's that?
Gentle, right?
Maybe...
What now?
Offended!
Go on, go on.
Federico, let me do a scene.
Isn't there a script?
Something intense that I can do with passion.
- Isn't there a script? - No.
If you highlighted the jaw,
on the left and the right... all of my colleagues do it.
Then suck in my tummy,
some high heels for the height...
Casanova was really tall. How tall?
191.5 cm.
No, not even with stilts.
The aspect I like most is the vitality.
The vitality of this giant
who resurrects from the ashes, from defeat, it's beautiful.
I'd say vitalism more than vitality. Something neurotic.
And this mostly comes out in that stupendous episode
when Casanova is furious
and starving and tired.
- He comes out of the mine. - From what?
The copper mine in Finland.
It's beautiful, beautiful.
When did Casanova go to Finland?
I like that about memory, it gives you your life back.
Tell me about that episode.
There was this...
Memory gives you a more truthful life than the one you had.
There was this figure...
I'm not sure, maybe it was in Modena.
It was definitely in Emilia.
Was it?
Maybe it wasn't.
A bit of fatigue perhaps, who knows.
It happens, you know...
- See you, Fellini. - Bye.
- Make Casanova. - Sure, I will.
The satisfaction of playing the great Venetian lover
was given to Marcello by Scola.
In fact, a few years later, in 1982,
Mastroianni played Casanova in his film "That Night in Varennes",
La Nuit de Varennes.
Thanks for the collaboration, my young friend.
I will not forget you.
As I will not forget you, Monsieur Casanova.
What a shame we didn't meet when we were young.
Of course, why not after all.
Never exclude anything on principle.
L'll do it.
- Oh, my gout. - No, you're so agile.
Drawing was always an important element in their work.
They had the common habit of drawing the characters for their films.
Grotesque caricatures for make-up artists, costume and set designers.
Mickey Mouse presents La Strada, a tribute to Federico Fellini.
- Who's nominated this year? - Nobody important.
Billy Wilder, Elia Kazan, Hitchcock... people like that.
No one.
And the Oscar goes to Federico Fellini!
Thank you!
Thank you, I'm touched.
Thanks to my mother, my father, friends from the bar and Giulietta...
And if you don't get it, you know what you do?
Just put his arms like this.
Nice, really nice.
Thank you, thank you.
The wooden Oscar Maccari and Scola gave to him as a joke,
clearly brought Fellini luck,
since he won more than one throughout his entire life.
Federico Fellini received the Oscar for Best Foreign Film.
How many Oscars is this now, Federico?
This is the third because I got one for "La Strada",
and another for "Nights of Cabiria".
Another Oscar? Too many!
Moreover, you have to be funny, smart,
passionate, elegantly aloof,
and even Felliniesque.
That's the hardest part
because despite being flattered of having become an adjective,
I don't know what it means!
This makes five!
We got five Oscars! We're unbeatable!
We're the best, Maestro! What incredible films!
We're the greatest!
All masterpieces!
Congratulations, what wonderful films!
- Is it really Fellini? - Fellini Fellini!
I can't believe it! My grandfather's idol!
Hooray Fellini!
Fellini's Oscar miraculously became an award for the community,
a tiny compensation for millions of good Italians.
Honest politicians, civil servants, professors, artisans, workers.
All those who don't receive awards but have to suffer all the injustice
accumulating every day like a dark cloud over our nation.
Even for Rome's final tribute to Fellini,
when crowds came for three whole days to visit his coffin
in Theatre 5 of Cinecittà,
the most memorable and most Felliniesque image
was the two military police in ceremonial uniform.
The great Rinocchio of Italian cinema concluded his final getaway,
without ever becoming, fortunately, a"good little boy".
The film should end here. Actually it has.
I can still hear my old producer saying:
"What? Not even a trace of hope, a ray of sun...
At least give me a ray of sun. "
He begged me during the test screenings of my films.
A ray of sun...
Well, I don't know. We can try.