La Dolce Vita review

 Number 212 on the top 1000 films of all time is Federico Fellini's 'La Dolce Vita.'

Marcello Rubini (Marcello Mastroianni) is a tabloid journalist who is going through a mid-life crisis. To rediscover his passion in life, he spends seven days and nights journeying through Rome.

This is my third Fellini film after 8 1/2 and La Strada and I was really hoping it would be closer to the latter than the former. But alas it was not to be. Just like 8 1/2, La Dolce Vita was slow, boring and surreal. It reminds me of Modernist literature where nothing happens in the real world. Everything plays out in the character's minds. And there's nothing inherently wrong in having films that are effectively character studies, but you need to have interesting and likeable characters. Similarly, to the Great Gatsby, La Dolce Vita is populated by rich people having existential moments. These are people I'm never going to relate to or care about. You can only imagine my horror at realising that I have to watch these characters for three bloody hours.

And that is especially true of the arrogant and unlikeable Marcello who very much has a meltdown at film's conclusion. All of the movie's themes culminate in the surrealist and most vulgar way. Marcello and his friends break into a beach house. Marcello becomes drunk and tries inciting the partygoers into having an orgy. He then has a young woman crawling on her knees and starts to ride her before covering her in alcohol, ripping a pillow and sticking feathers to her. And he only does this out of spite as the partygoers refused to agree to his demands. Yet the young woman is fine with it? And nobody else reacts to this. It's just so weird.

You get surrealism and then you get Fellini. He is on a whole other level. Let me tell you, I did not have a good life while watching this film.