All language subtitles for Felucho

Under the patronage of

in collaboration with

This film was only made thanks to the work
of director Ferruccio Castronuovo

on the sets of Fellini's "City of Women",
"The Ship Sails On" and "Ginger and Fred".

These films, the "Specials",
were used to promote upcoming films.

Now they've been restored,
after more than 40 years

at the Cineteca Nazionale.

To Ferruccio the greatest gratitude
for this unique tribute

to be carefully preserved.

Get down on your knees to see better.

It's not amusing.

Keep it that way,
we'll add something later.

Go! Quick!

All directors do the shot,
the reverse shot and wide shot,

but with him, this is just the beginning.

Take a seat, ma'am.

How are you?

Look at the camera.

Rosina, who comes from Verrucchio,

is the first one to come out of the heap!

I’m a Bette Davis lookalike.

I’m Lucio Dalla’s double.

Wait! Stop everything!

Slow down!

We stay here, from morning till night,
trapped together. We create a world apart.

It's a "Fellinopolis".

Scene 33/5/5.

Stage 5 in Cinecittà is the ideal place.
The utmost excitement.

Thrilling, entrancing...

That's what I feel
in front of the empty stage.

A space to fill, a world to build.

Please try to hold the positions
you have been given,

Roll camera! Clear the scene!

Too much smoke! Stop it!

Roll camera.

Action, Marcello!

Move forward!

Get out! Get out!

Louder! Shout louder!

Come forward! Come on! Come on!

Go this way! This way! Go!

Ferocious, ferocious!

Stop! Thank you.

Flora Mastroianni, Marcello's wife,

was my friend since school.

It was at her house that I met Fellini.

Get down on your knees to see better.

You recognize him, you scream.

Stand up. Stand up!

There he is!

I first met Fellini on the set
of "Satyricon",

on which I worked as the assistant
of Luigi Schiaccianoce.

I met him in his kingdom, Cinecittà.

I met Federico in 1963.

I used to go RAI television

and ask if there were any chances

to have an internship.

There I met Federico Fellini.

"Excuse me, you make a lot of movies,

may I have a chance to work with you?"

After that meeting,

I worked with him from 1963 to 1993.

You all stand up and you come
just about where you are now.

At one point in my life
I decided to start working in movies.

I had a stroke of luck,

because I met Maurizio Mein.

Please try to hold the positions
you have been given.

He was Fellini's assistant.

I implored him: "Maurizio,
please introduce me to Fellini."

On a Friday afternoon, I got a phone call.

"Ferruccio, are you free
on Monday morning?"

"Yes."

"Then come to Cinecittà.
Fellini wants to meet you".

"Fellini wants to meet me? Bugger off!"

I thought a friend
was playing a joke on me.

"No, I'm Norman,
the production manager of Casanova."

"Casanova"?! Holy shit!

I didn't sleep for two nights.

One afternoon, which I will never forget,

the phone rang and a voice said:

"Good morning,
I am Fellini's assistant director.

The Master would like
to meet you tomorrow morning

in the offices of Stage 5
at Cinecittà film studios."

I took it as a joke

and I answered: "Sure, I'll be there."

Then, luckily, I had some doubt
and the following morning

I went to the offices
of Stage 5 in Cinecittà.

We spoke in his office.

From that day on,
with the exceptional unaffectedness

that he was able
to infuse in any relationship,

I worked with him, we spoke
on the phone, we exchanged views...

nearly every day for 11 years.

I worked in the costume
department laboratory.

I dealt with aging, among other tasks.

I supervised the seamstresses,
the making of stage costumes.

I was Gabriella Pescucci's assistant
for "City of Women".

Bark. You have to bark.

What if we do it yellow
instead of this color?

Golden?

There was a lot to do, we had to create
the feminists' costumes...

We had to invent quite a bit.

Try playing, turn towards me. That's it!

The other way.

Good, that's it. All the way!

Play like this.

Later on, as a set manager,
I was almost always there, at his side.

We got on instantly.

Take a seat, I'll set you up later.

All right. Then?

Thank you.
We'll see you later. Goodbye.

I wanted to tell
the whole story, the work,

the set of Fellini's films.

Lower the trunk!

I started to look for the best
framing I could imagine.

Raise the trunks!

Pull up the trunks!

That's it!
Roll camera, let's go!

Scene 33/3/1.

Don't move!

The challenge of portraying
the story of "City of Women"

didn't prove easy, also
because I didn't know the script.

I didn't know what exactly
Fellini wanted to tell.

The more money, the more rounds!

Inside this shack, you can watch
the most dangerous exercises...

I chose to tell the film

in a much more explicit way

than just doing interviews here and there.

In fact, there's no narrator.

It's all direct sound.

Later we plug them in here.

Bring the pulley back here!

The fateful Saturday comes along,

and Fellini wants
to see the material I shot.

Gianni, I'll arrange the bulbs
to be put here on the sides.

I saw Fellini controlling everything.

He tore up all the photos:
"This is bad... this is bad".

I was shaking.

Fellini's examination,

when check what you shot
at the editing table

is a terrible moment!

He came in and watched.

Every now and then
he turned and looked at me.

I would smile, shyly.

He would restart the Moviola.

Then he'd stop and say:
"Where were you here?"

Take 2-6

Then we saw what was going on
in front of Fellini.

Attention, please! We are ready!

Don't move!

Rolling camera!

He's coming down.

Brake! Slow down!

The rope is too loose, leave it on!

- Did you hurt?
- Slower.

"From now on, you are the only person
allowed to shoot on the set of my films."

And he kept his word,
because I went on filming.

"City of Women",
"The Ship Sails On" and "Ginger and Fred".

Mustn't I look at you?

- I don't like the way you to look at me.
- I won't look at you!

Fine.

Ready!

You don't like the way I look
at you? I won't look!

Without moving. You should stay...

Can you see the camera?

If you do this like he does...

Ready!

I was an assistant director,
so I would do everything

as assistants are expected to do.

Music, Maestro!

This is a particular film,
it didn't cost me any effort to make it.

It almost came about without me
knowing and today it's over.

Federico and I were in a taxi
and another car passed by.

And inside the other car
there was a "face".

A face that struck Federico.

He said: "Follow that car."

It was an eternal line from the movies.

So I did.

I got out of the car in a hurry,
took another taxi and followed it.

He would have liked to have
all the faces of the world around him.

What's your role in this movie?

The role of Saraghina.

- Do you know that "Saraghina" is a fish?
- Yes.

And it's a pretty skinny fish!

The charm of Federico

and his world. Those extraordinary faces

that you didn't see in other movies.

It's a Noah's ark, no more, no less.

Look at all the characters,
they're more like animals.

We're all animals. I'm a beast too.

He's got all these incredible characters,
like in a wax museum.

When someone asked:
"Where do you find them?"

He would reply:
"I have a shop where I pick them up."

Both with professional
and non-professional actors,

I'm affected by a form of gratitude
for the mere fact that they permit me

to see the incarnation,
the embodiment of characters

who until a month earlier,
lived only in my imagination.

They were impalpable,
like visions from a dream.

It’s really them, now.

One of these minor characters
amuses me very much,

because he's always so snooty.

He argued about everything.

I made him wear
a long white mane, kind of like Einstein

and that upset him a lot.

One day, he said to me:
"I look like an old man!"

So I asked: "Why? How old are you?"
He replied: "78."

I have hair like Giuseppe Verdi,
Pirandello's goatee,

I'm in disguise!

The characters were there, and there were
indications as to what they represented,

but he used to invent things every day.

We know nothing,
because we see just fragments

and we just work with fragments,
without knowing what will come out.

He invents. He will invent something.

Using his own words,
something "supernatural","magical",

from the depths of the subconscious.

When we were out looking for faces,
he didn't have a definite script.

Do you reckon, do you understand

the lines in the script?
Do you get it wrong sometime?

There are no lines,
because there's no script.

- Not at all?
- No!

It wasn't clear what he was getting at.

The character will become clear
as the film develops.

Do the seductive
'Fumagalli smile', like that time.

Give me that little smile...

There was a script, it did exist,

he just didn't always stick to it.

He would invent lines at the last minute,

totally different from the original ones,
and this frightened some of the actors.

In "The Ship Sails On"

there was a big group of British actors,

used to know exactly what was going on.

Well, that didn't happen with Federico.

Yes, he was on a schedule, but nobody knew

where he was going to start
and when he was going to finish.

Ready.

Roll camera.

Scene 21/47/4.

Entirely spontaneous.

He expresses exactly what he wants.

What I demand and I try to defend,

is not the freedom of improvisation,

but rather that inexpressible margin,
which I find vitally necessary,

not to suffocate the characters
and their story

through a programme
utterly pre-arranged and organized.

When I showed up for this movie,

I said: "But Federico, I can't sing!"

"You don't need to sing!
You're an actor, you make gestures."

During the shooting, he didn't waste time,

though he was a perfectionist.

I once heard one of the actresses

repeat a line...

...12 times!

During the shooting of "Amarcord",
we were at the table with Pupella Maggio,

Bruno Zanin and other actors.

We were shooting the scene
where I had to eat a chicken leg.

I made a mistake, then Pupella made one,

then Bruno Zanin.

After the eighteenth or nineteenth take,

I begged him: "Federico can I pretend
and just eat a little piece?"

"No, you have to eat it all!"

Twenty-three chicken legs!

Unless things weren't perfectly in line
with his head and heart,

he kept doing it over and over.

Scene 21/28/2.

Pull up the tubes, good.

Action Vittorio!

No, wait!

Turn! Smile!

Put your hand on the wheel.
Lift your head.

Will you pass me a life jacket, please?
I'm about to drown. Seriously!

I turned his dreams into scenic design.

Everything he wanted.

And he listened to me, because having
worked together for a long time,

we were on the same wavelength.

I addressed him with respect,
even if he always put me at ease.

I was his tool

to accomplish what he had in mind,
what went through his head.

Get very close together.

Look over there,
everybody look to your right.

Swing left and right, slowly.
Not with your head!

I've been kidnapped for almost 15 years,

with him, day and night,

at Cinecittà, also known
as "Guantanamo Bay".

Two years later, he started
to conceive "The Ship Sails On".

He thought of me as costume designer.

I, of course, didn't want to,
I didn't feel ready.

It was too demanding,
it was a period film.

It was a huge thing.

I... lost sleep.

But he was adamant.

He called me every day.

"You have to do it!"

I was really worried sick.

Too big a thing.

It was my first film as head
of the costume department.

Let's see.

You must wear black gloves.
You'll have them on set.

- So is that all right?
- Yeah, all right.

But then he guided me,
took me by the hand

and it proved a wonderful experience.

- Ready!
- Scene 1/6/2.

Action!

At one point, there's a character

flipping through a photo album.

There were photos and film clips.

After two months preparation, he said:
"Let's start taking photos

and shoot the vintage footage", suddenly.

I'm still convinced,

he wanted to test me,

see if I would be able to make it or not.

It was a film within the film,
shooting lasted one month.

There was the filming of three operas,
with costumes typical of the period

in which the action took place,

the early 20th Century, 1905-1906.

It wasn't at all easy.

Then the singer's departure,

and all the various characters,
as seen in the film.

Singers, opera supervisors, dancers...

So, a real feat.

And... I succeeded.

I'm fat and I'm a banker with Fellini.

An opera singer
who loves cooking and women.

I am a volunteer.

My profession: Women's hairdresser.

Unfortunately, the "Fellini State"
prosecutors play jokes on you,

sending you to a golden island
that's the equivalent of a jail.

We stay here from morning till night,

trapped together,
we create a world apart.

We've had good days and bad days.

We're going to have
an election to nominate a Mayor,

a city council...

This is a separate nation
inhabited by "Fellinian people".

It's well worth going to work with Fellini

who is a great man.

Let's go, guys.

Is that a wide angle?
Are you going to give me a huge nose?

Then you see...
These eyebrows are fake.

I'm all fake.

Go on stage, go on stage!

Action.

I had to rebuild
the whole ship inside Stage 5.

It was assembled on a big platform
and mounted on a mechanism,

giving the impression of a ship at sea.

The ship moved.

It simulated the pitch

thanks to the hydraulic systems
underneath.

The scale of the model was about 45-50%,
so practically half a real size ship.

You'd get on, and once on board,

you couldn't get off
until the shooting was over.

The funny thing was,
that once they had built

that big moving ship,

he said: "Guys, do whatever you want,
but don't move the ship. I get seasick."

He never stepped on the ship,
but directed from a scaffold on the side.

So, the poor actors
and the whole crew, were forced

to take pills against the sea-sickness
they developed after getting on board.

It went on for a long time
because the filming

on the ship's deck
lasted well over four months.

For Fellini,

the sea was a sort of suggestion
to be conveyed to the viewer.

It was spectacular.

Visitors came from all over the world.

There was always a queue at Cinecittà,
everyone wanted to come and see Fellini.

I remember the Swedish Royal Family,
the Italian intelligentsia,

from Moravia to Ginsburg...

A lot of American directors,
actors, producers...

It was a never-ending flow.

Being on a Fellini set
was such a privilege.

Fellini doesn't want
a rhino that looks real.

He said to me:

"I must have the feeling
of seeing an overturned truck."

I think Fellini chose it because
it is the most fascinating animal

in the world.

This ear, for example,
is a wrap, a parcel.

I can give it various positions.

This one could be when
it is lying in the cargo hold.

This animal can adopt
an infinite number of postures.

Fellini has named me
the rhino's guardian.

Keep calm, Ciccillo, keep calm.
Everything will be fine, don't worry.

Keep calm, Ciccillo.

We're taking it into Noah's Ark
to save it from the Great Flood.

It's an invention to collapse an age,
a world, and create a new one.

It's a kind of E.T. of ancient history.

Fellini was definitely my master,
but also a master of manipulation,

because he was a master of lies.

Federico?! An incorrigible liar!

As Giulietta used to say, he turned
red in shame when he told the truth.

Of course, Federico, like many
artists, almost all of them...

was a big liar.

I used to tell him lots of fibs,
because he liked to hear them.

He knew I was a liar too,
but for him this was fine,

because he liked not to hear true things,

but interesting lies.

Keep your head down and look there.

Your eyes must to look up.
Even when...

Yes.

Yes, even when you talk...

You have to be someone between
a priest, a judge and a son of a bitch.

Don't move your head, just smile.
Close your mouth, smile.

Deep down he wasn't so much lying,
but rather inventing his own truth.

His truth was what
he represented in the cinema.

He's always been himself in the movie
industry, it has been shown wide and far.

He has been presented in various ways,
but he held his own personality.

In short, he was always Fellini.
Fortunately, I might add.

11/5/4.

For a small director like me,

finding myself in front of actors
like Fellini, Mastroianni, Masina,

the elite, the best of cinema
you could ever meet,

was one of the most beautiful things,
the greatest luck

I could have in life.

Ballet rehearsal at Stage 15.

11/5/1

Do you remember it?

Yes, of course, in the end
it changes into a waltz.

- Very nice.
- We're not done yet.

The best is to come.

The first thing a movie actor
should know is how to dance.

When you tell an actor:
"Come in like this, take that light..."

That's dance!
"Hurry up, walk slowly, then speed up..."

It's a fundamental thing,
dominance, mastery,

the awareness of one's body's
how to move one's limbs.

That's the very first thing
a movie actor has to do.

The first film I set to music for Fellini
was "Ginger and Fred",

but before that, I had set
some of his commercials to music.

When he proposed them to me, I remember

that very naively and with a good degree
of presumption, I told him:

"Federico I don't like commercials,
I've never done them."

And he replied: "Me neither!
I don't like them either."

In this way he defused
all possible objections you might offer.

So he said to me:
"Let's consider this a system,

to get to know each other,
to see how we work

and what we can do together."

"Ginger and Fred"
has a final part that takes place

inside a TV variety show studio.

At the first work meeting,
I was used to taking notes...

He told me: "You know,
we could use a type of music

like the ones employed in those
cynical TV shows... a cynical music.

Meanwhile I noted 'cynical'.

"Also quite a repetitive music,
because, you know...

...this kind of music keeps repeating."

So I wrote 'repetitive'.

"With the pompous banality
typical of those TV shows."

So I wrote 'banal, pompous.'

When he got up to leave,
I looked at my notes and saw that I had

to write a banal,

cloying, repetitive, conceited, cynical,
unpleasant and annoying music.

He turned back and said:
"But please, make it beautiful."

The music had to be
the credible music of a TV show,

but inside it, dwelled a virus
that he put in every shot.

Even if it's not musically plausible,

remember to move together, as one,

with your trombones,
fully extending your arms.

If pre-existing music was used in a film,
he would never use the recorded music,

we recorded it again in the studio,

magnifying a detail
or reducing another one.

Hurray! My little tripe
just arrived from outer space!

Applaud, everyone! Go, Federico, go!

The last three are research films.

This has not been
well understood at the time.

Today, the research value of those movies
it's pretty obvious to everyone.

Kundera mentioned it recently,
giving the final word

on the value of that research.

Smile, adjust the collar of your shirt.

Look at the camera.

Those last three films,
which I set to music,

are three films which,
as anyone might imagine,

I'm more than fond of.
I love them so much.

"Ginger and Fred", I could say

was an emblematic movie.

The intuition of the arrival
of television democracy.

He sensed that a disaster was coming,
the disaster of television.

Roll Camera!

Silence!

He only had fun when he was working.

Work is what always
entertained him so much.

Work is fun if you like it,
especially creative work like his.

It's a complicated picture,
but it will be a big hit in Viterbo.

Fellini wasn't a 'senior' artist.

He wasn't the revered master
repeating himself,

but someone continuing to research.

One of the phrases I most
often heard from him

when I gave a suggestion,
was: "But I've done that."

Andrea, try to look in the hole.
Hold it right there!

Go! Quick, here!

Stop.

Can we do a test, please?

All right.

I've never seen anything done in a movie
and repeated in another one.

Go!

Turn around!

Every time was something new,

nothing was quite like the things
already done in his past films.

Further, towards me.

There wasn't a movie that used
the same camera movements.

Go, Marcellino. Make them run away!

Get up.

Damn you!

Stop!

It ran away!

It should stay here or disappear,
or come to you, turn around here,

It's a walking dog,
not one that goes to see who's there.

He had a powerful view of the contemporary
world, always focused on "today".

He enjoyed getting me involved.

Excuse me, where is the toilet?

Give me some wind!

What was important to me
was to capture Fellini's smile.

Ready.

He talked to me like I was
the greatest musician in the world.

That helps. You can't really relax,
because you're working with Fellini,

but it takes away any performance
anxiety, any distressing attitude

and it leads you to take
on a playful attitude.

Go ladies, quickly, hurry!

Part of his work in films

was like the work of the
model railway for children.

It was the construction
of a fairy tale, of magic.

Switch on.

A complete rehearsal.
Do you see her well?

- Ready?
- Yes, Maestro.

Go! Special effects! Train!

He was beyond any argument

about markets,

quotas, Americans,
what people want to know...

No, the reality was
to remain on another cloud.

I'm Menuccio, Fellini's key grip.

The key grip is the person

who has big responsibilities,
because he has to do the movements

with the dolly, with the crane.

I've been with him
for twenty-five, twenty-six years.

And even though I'm 82 years old,
he wants me with him every time.

I've taken care of him
like one does with a son.

In fact, he used to say that
I was like a mom, not the key grip.

He had a great connection with the crew,
everyone spoke to him as a close friend.

He was, first of all, a great playmate.

I saw him as a brother,
an uncle, a father,

I addressed him with respect,
even if he always put me at ease.

He really had a special ability

in building relationships of friendship,
of intimacy, of solidarity

with all his collaborators.

There really was a relationship,
a family relationship.

I need a lot of harmony around me,
to create in the crew, among work mates,

a sense of a journey, of an outing...

of an extraordinary adventure.

We've always had a lot of fun.

We've always done things with gaiety.

That's it.

One, two, three and four.

Then there's him. Five, six and four.

A relationship that has grown
slowly over time,

developing until you reach
a sort of personal intimacy.

A kind of complicity,

that others couldn't understand.

As a man, more than intelligent,
more than sensitive,

a connoisseur of the human soul,

he realized that making
a collaborator feel comfortable,

inspires him to cooperate better.

You need to be able
to convey in yourself some projection

of trust, of empathy,
of compliance and of cooperation.

This is part of the charisma
that you can create,

the way you impose yourself,
the way you propose your game.

Ave, Marcello!

Rosina, who comes from Verrucchio,

is the first one to come out of the heap!

Stay still, just move these.

One more time.

Confronted with this scenario,

I tried to imagine different solutions
to animate it in different way.

Acting on the images and the characters
that Fellini was maneuvering,

has been an exceptional opportunity.

See you in a bit.

The freedom Fellini gave me
wasn't granted to anyone else.

He should be here in a moment.
We'll try to stop him. We might get lucky.

There he is!

Marcello! Marcello!

I'd like to briefly interview
you for the "Special".

Another time, I'm late. Angela!

A little question.

I had to be ready at 10. It's after 11.
Another time.

All right then, I'll come later.

Yes, later.

One of Fellini's habits,
not just with me,

was to make a phone call early
in the morning, around 8:00-8:30.

It was rarely a phone call like:
"We have to edit the music"

or something concerning the work.

It usually was: "Did you hear
what Craxi said on TV last night?"

Or a comment on a matter of manners.

And he went on for a long time.

Go, Marcello.

It's a lie, your invention!

You want me to change?

Those conversations over the phone

made you appreciate

how much importance he gave to words,
what wealth he possessed

in describing something,
even when he was joking.

Flowers!

Second group!

Third group!

I once told him:

"I come to work with a genius and
then I find in the edit room,

a very childlike
and beautiful atmosphere."

He said:

"Don't offend me! Childlike?
Collegiate, if you must!"

That's the precision of his use
of adjectives. He was right!

It wasn't a childish environment,
but that of a high school,

with students doing their homework
and then playing jokes.

Now, everyone picks their own flower!

Girls, one hour break.
Back here in an hour!

Easy!

Federico, until the last moment,

he didn't prepare for it,
he didn't shout: "Be quiet!",

because he needed

to think.

He managed to think

by escaping from the set,

whilst everyone was in conversation
until the last moment.

Only for me, who didn't know
at which point he was going to start,

I was a little apprehensive.

Giving an exact number to each scene
was essential for the editing,

I couldn't afford to be wrong.

Explosion! Scream!

Applause!

Then you start slightly rocking.
All of you.

All of you.

But only slightly. It's too
exaggerated, slightly, just barely.

Open up again.

Bravo!

Fellini was a world.

Focus is everything.
Look at the base of the nose. That's it.

It was as if you had opened a window

and outside that window, you saw
a panorama that you didn't know was there.

He needed collaborators
to build, to undo, to do everything,

someone really close, capable

of understanding what he had in mind.

A collaborator who not only
did things, which was easy,

but also ready to slow down
when he saw him thinking.

Sometimes he wasn't so sure
about what he wanted.

We often found ways
of delaying the work process,

as so to give him a chance to
reflect for five minutes more.

Again and again the production
managers said to me:

"Tell Federico that we've
already gone over schedule,

we don't have much time.
We should finish by tomorrow."

I replied that they couldn't prevent

an artist like Federico Fellini
from having ideas,

from making changes or enriching.

Sometimes it wasn't clear
how a sequence would turn out,

but when finished and edited,

you saw the miracle of what he had done.

You go in first, start the burner.

Go with the water on top!

Raise the flame!

Roll camera!

Lower the pumps!

Go with the flame!

Stop! This one, Norma, the last three.

When you worked with Federico,
there was an efficient machine in place

and an expensive one too.

But the results were extraordinary.
He won five Academy Awards.

Recognised by the whole world
as one of the greatest artists

who ever lived.

He achieved all of this
while he was alive,

contrary to many people who only
get recognition after death.

Instead, he's had everything
when he was alive.

He had so many qualities,
he was a very affable man,

a very good man,
and very naughty as well!

Don't look at her!

We'll be here until tomorrow.

Shut up everybody!

Smile, Alberto!

Among the artists, the director is
the most exposed to continuous conflict.

It is a profession that also requires
identifying with a command figure.

Sit down.

Still.

Look at this!
You mustn't laugh. Stay still!!

Then start rocking.

To see that hundred, two hundred,
three hundred, a thousand people

are there to do exactly what you want,

it can create a certain
inflation of your authority.

It is clearly not easy

to force people
to become pure expressive material.

He would sometimes pretend to be gruff.

"Stop! Quiet!"

Then he would turn and
smile to the camera operator.

Will you piss off?
Get out the bloody way!

Castronuovo, will you get out
the bloody way?

He first created a big mess, then,
suddenly, he would start screaming:

"Silence! I can't take it anymore!"
but then he laughed.

I don't see myself as the kind of director
who screams and acts like a dictator.

There are electricians, grips,
collaborators, actors and extras,

who must fit into
the most rigorous scheme possible.

He'd turn red in the face,
he'd get excited, angry.

Sometimes I resorted
to a little stratagem and would say:

"Stop it, you're going
to have a heart attack!"

That was the only way
to have him calm down.

Raise your eyebrows.

And smile.

One, two, three and four.

Armando, smile!

Come on!

Smile, Armando or I'll clobber you.

Back!

Two, three and four.

One, two, three and four.

Listen, Armando, excuse me...

When I say "smile", you have
to smile all the time.

I don't want to repeat it
four hundred times!

When Christopher Columbus
solicited his crew

not to swim back

in the middle of the ocean,

he probably had a dream in his mind

for discovering a new continent.

As modest as your fantasy may be,
if you want to materialize it,

overcoming the conflicts and the obstacles
derived from the community around you,

you must possess
the same fanaticism and...

...faith that Columbus had,

in the belief there
wouldn't just be water

and that eventually
a strip of land would appear.

I always remember the night, of the first
screening, when we watched the first edit.

Do you remember?

And it was the first time
I saw the movie in its entirety.

I didn't really know what I'd done,
but I was very comforted

by your reaction.

The light went on,
you kept quiet for a long time,

then you put your head in your hands,

and I understood you were very moved.

It really struck you who had lived
every moment of it.

He nicely called the circus
"a magic circle".

And at the centre of this circle
anything could happen.

If you think about it, it's true:

The elephant's stool is round, the tiger's
cage is round, the awning is round.

It's a circle. A magic circle
where anything can happen.

He had a very strong rapport with magic.

Astrology...

...clairvoyance, predictions,
extrasensory perceptions.

Wizards or visionaries

passing through his set.

I'm not an actress, let's say
I'm clairvoyant, a psychic.

I'm here to talk
about "The Ship Sails On".

The explanations that
he gave me were fascinating.

He said: "Nothing is known,
nothing is imagined".

With his power, with his charisma,

with his enormous power of suggestion

which he also tried
to express in his movies,

he managed to influence
all collaborators around him.

"What did you dream last night?"
At first I'd reply: "Nothing."

"What did you dream?"
"Nothing."

The third time he asked me, I thought
I better start inventing some dreams.

So, I began telling him that I dreamt
about something I thought he'd like.

Other people's dreams are important

if they match what you want to hear.

During a break between
"Casanova" and "City of Women",

suddenly, Paese Sera newspaper
published a short note, just three lines:

"Fellini is preparing a new movie
in Cinecittà 'City of Women'".

I had a very agitated night,
crowded with dreams,

in which I saw some very precise images.

A kind of big slide made of iron pipes.

Something magical,
mysterious, unclassifiable.

Smile. Look over here, Farracino!

Say "Hello!" Go, Marcello!

Hat on!

Stop, stop!

Rosina, who comes from Verrucchio,

is the first to come out of the heap!

Farracino smile, hat, smile!

Close it.

In the evening,

when we finished work together
the editing or the mixing,

he asked if I could give him a lift home.

It was a pleasure
to take him to Piazza del Popolo.

Under the arches of the Felice Aqueduct,

he said:
"Turn right! Right in there!"

He started giving me
increasingly vague directions,

until we found ourselves lost in a place

dotted with caravans,
aerials, abandoned refrigerators.

There was a full moon,

and I got a little scared.

He started describing that place
with adjectives that I don't remember.

"Look at this moon.
It could be intimidating,

but instead it has a pastel smile."

"Look at these aerials,
at these tires scattered around".

"Look at this incredible landscape.
And what a silence!"

He described the flow
of traffic in the distance,

the call of animals, of crows.

He was enchanted and so was I,

thanks to his special ability
to influence others.

However, as enchanted as I was,

"Federico, it's time
to find our way back."

We got back in the car we drove
at random for a little while

until we came out exactly
where we had taken the shortcut.

The next day he says:
"Will you take me home?","Sure."

"This time I have the exact directions
of the shortcut and we'll take it."

I said: "Federico,
what if we get lost again?"

And he: "Let's hope so."

Let's try again.

- Marcello, again?
- Here we are.

Let us drink in peace.

- What I can tell you, Ferruccio?
- It's just for the "Special",

tell us something
about the movie, your character...

I can't. It's a military secret.
We'll talk about it another time.

All right, when you find a moment...

Let's see. Next year!

Next year, in 1988.

That's it.

Try to drag him by the hand.

Give me a crafty smile.

Look in front of you and smile.

Smile.

His relationship with women

was primarily one of great
curiosity, because I can't say

that he was just attracted
to beautiful women.

Fellini wanted me,
in some regards, physically.

So...

For example, he started by getting
my eyebrows completely shaved off.

I felt like my face...

was absolutely flat.

And then, he added moles.

A mole here, can you see it?
And one a little further down.

I feel like I've known him my whole life.

There's something
very familiar, very wonderful.

A very intelligent, very kind man.

And, how do you say? He sees big.

Would you do a small part for him?

I would do anything with Federico.

He was such an extraordinary man,
capable of turning

into a gentle knight
even if a woman wasn't that beautiful.

He complimented her
until she felt like a star.

I was amazed, but also looked
at Federico with much fondness,

because he was such a Casanova.
I wish men were all like him!

- How are you?
- Very well, thank you.

- From Switzerland to meet you.
- Please, be my guest.

Women have always been exalted by Fellini,

even when he criticized them,
or made fun of them.

But obviously, women are essential
for Fellini and for all of us.

Federico, what do I say now?

- What do I say?
- I don't know.

It has always been said that
Mastroianni was Fellini's alter ego.

What's the question?

Has anything changed between
"8 & 1/2" and "City of Women"?

Talk about the last time you...

- What has changed since "8 & 1/2"?
- I don't know, Marcello.

They were two companions...

...we can say of the same age.

Mastroianni was a few years younger.

They've become tangled.
Go, Marcellino.

Laugh, talk. That's it.

Thank you, good night.

Come here for a moment, listen.

Girls! Good night.

He's always loved women.

Therefore, also in this film,

which was called "City of Women",

it's easy to see the love he felt

for us girls.

Sisters, it was all for nothing.

The eyes of that man, of that male,

who wanders among us with his face
fake-respectful, intelligent,

with the false intent
to get to know each one better.

Because he says that knowing us better,
he can change his relationship with us.

And of all the lies he told,
of all the justifications,

of all lies,
this is the most despicable one!

This text was written by Liliana Betti

to emphasize all the negative attitudes

of Fellini's character towards women.

Then the text was read
by one of the feminists.

The eyes of that man are the
eyes of the male of all time,

that deform everything he sees
in the mirror of slur and mockery.

The rascal is always the same,
he hasn't changed.

If you pretend to care about us,
it is to better control us,

to keep us forever in the
darkness of your harem.

For this intellectual buffoon,
of the worst kind,

who hypocritically proclaims
he wants to support us,

to understand and defend us better.

We are only his pretexts to form
for the umpteenth time his circus...

You lower your head.

...his bestiary. You lower your head.

...his zoo!

And we're there to be clowns, bayaderes.

He wants to make us laugh

about things we couldn't even cry about.

Stop, all right.

The relationship with Giulietta...
She was the Wife.

The wife he respected.

How nice!

Thank you.

Best wishes from the crew.

However, all married people
try to carve out their freedom.

He kept her in high regard,
showed her great respect,

but also apprehension,

because beside being his wife,
she was also his daughter.

They had a baby,

but for a short time,
she lived barely a month.

So, with Giulietta,
he took on a fatherly attitude

becoming protective.

If there was something
which might upset her

he did everything to reassure
her and comfort her.

All right, thank you.

It's our silver wedding anniversary,
see you at the golden one!

Nice wishes!

Recently, I've seen "Amarcord"
at the House of Cinema in Rome.

That little theatre was
full of people of all ages.

Everyone was moved, I heard them
laughing even more than when it came out,

which means that this film
has became even more enjoyable

compared to when it was first released.

Fellini's films are timeless,

and will always remain timeless.

They've entered
the empyrean realm of great cinema.

They're universal, eternal films.

They can even be defined as philosophical.

But above all, it is the love

for a way
of representing life, the others.

There are some artists

in human history, that go
beyond mere comparison.

They dwell in such a high dimension,
which keeps them outside the debate

of whether they're popular, learned,
intellectual, immediate, appreciated.

They live on another planet,
they go outside, over and beyond.

Like Beethoven.

Then she starts vocalizing.

Last time I saw him before I left

for America to make a movie.

Go, David. David, go to Mr. Dong!

He wasn't well. He felt a little sick.

He was still thinking about projects.

We were out of touch, I'd seen him
a couple of times in Cinecittà.

And at some point I learned
he hadn't been well.

My shyness blocked me, even
though I wanted to go and see him,

to comfort him.

Ready?

Silence.

But I was shy.

I was afraid of such a giant,
such a personality

so full of culture, of images,
of music, of everything.

The last time I saw Federico
he was in hospital.

We chatted and joked.

Even then, he still made flattering
comments, like a great latin lover.

He mentioned Valeria Marini.

He had drawn the beautiful
backside of actress Valeria Marini.

And on that drawing he had written:
"I'd like to live here."

The last time I saw him
was in a bar where we met

to talk about a film
he had to make in Italy.

Soon after, I got called
to the States for another movie.

And a little later, Federico got sick.

I had a phone call with Giulietta.
She was crying.

I told her I was sorry
to be away in the United States.

She said: "Don't worry,
he knows how close you are to him."

I last saw him when...

he wasn't very well...

He was in a clinic in Rome.

I never saw him again...
We talked on the phone.

His voice was no longer his own.

But even so, it is that phone call...

that stays with me.

Eventually, his death was announced.

I was in Lombardy, I was in Milan.

I came to Rome for the funeral.

I remember seeing
on television, in America,

Fellini's funeral inside Stage 5.

I had the opportunity and
the courage to film the funeral.

And that scene of Stage 5...

that sort of official celebration...

I thought Fellini
wouldn't have liked that funeral.

At night, I dreamt of Fellini's funeral
in a complete different way.

I think it came from him.

People like Federico Fellini
won't come again.

There won't be another Fellini.

Surely, his heir
will not be a 'Fellinian'.

He won't be someone that tries to remake
nuns, dwarfs, Rome and the circus,

because Fellini used to say,

after a suggestion:
"I've already done it."

I never stopped talking to him.

Some people will always
remain imprinted on your mind.

Among them, there is Fellini and a whole
group of directors I've worked with.

It's like with beehives,

some have more honey and some have less.

He's the one who's left me
with so much in life.

And first of all, he taught me so much.

A big loss...

To me, Fellini is not just a memory.

He's something completely alive...

because I keep telling
everything I can about him.

People we loved are always in our hearts.

When a genius dies,
it's as if a light goes out.

And we have one light less.

"City of Women", final scene 1/1.

When they ask me
in which city I'd like to live

"London? Paris? Rome?"

I say: "In the end,
if I have to be honest...

...Cinecittà".