After what we've seen of decadence during the past three decades or so, LA DOLCE VITA now seems tame, but people wasting time in nightclubs, dancing in the fountains of Rome, and just generally hanging out seemed a bit of a shock in 1960.
The picture begins as Romans are shocked by seeing a large statue of Jesus being carried over the city by a helicopter. Following in a second chopper is Mastroianni, a gossip writer for the local scandal sheets. He aspires to serious writing but never gets beyond what he churns out for lire. While
visiting a local nightspot, Mastroianni meets Aimee, a wealthy heiress suffering from a huge case of ennui. Everything bores her, and she is constantly on the lookout for new thrills. Together, they pick up hooker Moneta and spend the night as a menage a trois in the prostitute's room. When
Mastroianni gets home, he finds his regular mistress, Furneaux, has taken an overdose of sleeping pills. He rushes her to the hospital, where he is assured that she'll recover, then races off to cover the arrival of Hollywood starlet Ekberg at the airport. He is soon infatuated with the buxom
blonde and takes her for a tour around his Rome, including all the usual spots--Trevi, St. Peter's, the Caracalla Baths, etc. The tour is interrupted violently when Mastroianni is attacked by Ekberg's fiance Barker (who was her husband in real life). Things continue in this mode as Mastroianni
takes in a fake vision of the Blessed Virgin by two young children, a visit from his quiet-living father, an infatuation with an innocent young waitress, etc. His crisis about the meaninglessness of his life comes to a head when Cuny, a bohemian intellectual whom he idolizes and envies,
inexplicably commits suicide and takes the lives of his two children. True to the spirit of the film, Mastroianni still fails to act on his feelings, continuing with his hollow, glamorous life.
Episodic yet engrossing, LA DOLCE VITA is still worth a look, primarily for the window it offers onto the early days of the jet-set lifestyle. After nearly three hours, though, Fellini's relentlessly enigmatic, non-committal approach leaves you wishing for something more than poignant imagery and
moody, self-obsessed characters. leave a comment
