Amarcord was high on my list of Italian films to watch for two reasons. I love Fellini and the Academy loved this picture enough to give it an Oscar for best Foreign Film. Listen, I know that most Italians love talking about how much of an artist Fellini is, and I don’t really buy into that. Most of the time when I’m watching a movie, I just want to sit back and enjoy it - I’m not looking for a cerebral experience provoking existential introspection. Even the French understand that. I resisted this pretension until I saw a few of his films, at which point I realized that he is kind of an artist. He does a good job at making his movies provocative and introspective, without sacrificing entertainment value. This film is pieno così with ridiculous and obscene humor while still being sentimental and poignant. Even the title “Amarcord” is evocative, meaning “I remember” in his native dialect - Romagnolo.

Ostensibly, Amarcord is about the strange and colorful people of Rimini living out a year of their lives in the 1930s. It is also about the national and religious identity of the people, which comes into conflict with their natural behaviors and instincts. It is about growing up and also about the elements of Italian life which inhibit growing up. Remarkably, even as a novice Italian speaker who knows nearly nothing about the customs and history of the town of Rimini, I felt a sense of piquant nostalgia stirring.

Note - if you don’t know a lot about the customs, traditions, and people of Rimini, you will probably feel a little lost while watching. The plot is chronological, but does not follow one person in particular for the entire film. There are random bits of narration sprinkled in from several characters, one of whom lies constantly. There is really no exposition, which allows the perspective to shift and follow characters arbitrarily during the town’s seasonal and traditional events. This film leaves the viewer with the same sense as a dream - part sentimental, part ominous, part strange, and in this case driven by hilarious characters and discourse.

Ricordati di me/Remember Me, My Love

A very poignant film. A good mix of darkly comic and emotionally piquing moments. “Ricordati di me” is set in present day Rome and is about a family of four who are very close but dishonest with each other. The attention focuses on the father, Carlo and his stagnant relationship with his wife Giulia. At the beginning of the story’s action, each of the four family members seem to be at the precipice of a breaking point in their lives. For the most part, all eventually find redemption somehow, but this is not a typical story and it does not have a completely typical outcome.

The setting is Rome and frequently during the film there are easily recognizable places and buildings used as the backdrop for the Ristuccia family’s melodrama. The Italian spoken seems to be pretty standard with not too much Romanesco dialect. Aside from the quickness with which all of the characters speak (I suppose owing to the fact that these are city folk), the lines are easily heard and understood. Insomma, “Ricordati di me” is deeply felt and has become a perennial favorite of mine.

The Bicycle Thief/Ladri di Biciclette

Being a student and teacher of the Italian language, and also a lover of film, it occurred to me to try to merge these two fields of interest in an attempt to help advise or at least get feedback from fellow Italian students.

So, I started with a classic, or at least what the authorities deem a classic of Italian cinema; Ladri di Biciclette - The Bicycle Thief. Normally I am not crazy about movies that end with the protagonist crying in despair, but the more I understand about Italian cinema, the more I see that suffering is kind of important. Several Fellini films that I have seen left me with a similar feeling.

The film is set in Rome in the late 1950s and follows the protagonist Antonio on a journey to recover his stolen bicycle, which he needs for his job so that he can provide food for his wife and son. One thing I love about the film is seeing Rome during the late 1950s. It's unrecognizable and simultaneously very familiar, having been a Roman tourist several times.

The whole reason I got into Italian Film in the first place was to learn more about the nuances and subtleties of the Italian language and its numerous dialects. Ladri di Biciclette, being set in Rome, is in the Romanesco dialect. The most obvious example of this (to me) is the use of the word 'andiamo' which in Romanesco is 'ah-NAmo' or just 'NAmo.' On the first DVD version of the film (the one I just watched), the sound was pretty fuzzy and many words were difficult to make out. However, a Criterion Collection edition of the film was recently released, which should have a much more crispy clean sound. Overall it was an enjoyable experience. I am not yet at the point where I want neorealistic suffering every time I watch a movie, but I'm getting there. Something lighter next week.