Federico Fellini
Amarcord

It is difficult for me to objectively evaluate "Amarcord," as a native and lifelong resident of Rimini. The analogies with today's Rimini, as well as that of 20, 30, 40 years ago, are numerous, and even though I did not experience those times long ago, I constantly hear the memories of other people close to me. Fellini combines the autobiographical element with imagination, loves the surreal, the grotesque, and presents it as a personal past of a distant childhood, but not forgotten. This Rimini essence is evident in the sharp and bitter humor, the quirky characters who retain a certain contemporary relevance, surpassing caricatures and cartoonish stereotypes. The beautiful city girl who dreams of fame and luxury, but in reality cannot escape her role as an object of desire in a microcosm, the madman whom you cannot help but love, the gruff father who would do anything for the family, the ailing mother who is the factotum at home, the uncle who thinks only of chasing women, the grandfather who still boasts of his youthful sexual prowess, the street musician you gently tease upon seeing him, the teachers, schoolmates, the pranksters, the prostitute, the verbose historian, the flashy motorcyclist who bursts in with roaring accelerations. And the introduction of some words in the Romagnolo dialect, which few may understand but many of us cannot help but appreciate.

But Fellini's genius is also evident in surreal scenes such as those of the beautiful Ninola and the moment she becomes "Gradisca," or when the peddler sees the arrival of the sultan with his 30 concubines, who invite the commoner to enter the Grand Hotel. Two scenes that seem absurd, but represent the evolution of a story that when passed from mouth to mouth, will be totally transformed from the original narrative, regardless of its truth or falsehood. But in "Amarcord" there are scenes that will remain in history, like the arrival of the ocean liner Rex, or that of the "Tabaccaia" (Fellini's obsession with forms), Uncle Teo with psychiatric problems but with the dream of being with a woman that probably will never come true, or Alvaro Vitali dancing with the arrival of the breeze. Not to mention the arrival of the fascists in full pre-war power, but they do not make a great impression in the scene where they shoot at a gramophone atop the bell tower, guilty of playing music not to their liking. And speaking of music, one cannot fail to mention the soundtrack by Nino Rota, splendid and immortal, which makes "Amarcord" a film full of magic and poetry even more. Truly exceptional staging, akin to the real Rimini of days gone by. The square, the castle, the arcades, the port. Spectacle.

Fellini feels the melancholy of a place to which he gave much in his adolescence but would later leave and return to less and less, almost distancing himself from a place that would have been too confining for him, yet honoring it with this masterpiece, a word perhaps excessively overused, but one I cannot help but emphasize.

"Mio nonno fava i mattoni, mio babbo fava i mattoni, fazzo i mattoni anche me', ma la casa mia n'dov'è?"