Essential Fellini, Part 2: The Extravagant Years

And we're back, following Part 1 of our coverage of Criterion's giant-sized Essential Fellini blu-ray boxed set, with the second and final Part.  We're past all the early, 50's, neo-realist adjacent films of Federico Fellini's early career, and are now moving on to his more fanciful later work.  These tend to be the films of his I prefer, not just because they have more exotic, colorful imagery, but they also seem to be be - generally speaking, of course - digging at deeper, more personal issues at heart.  The 50s were a time of more on-the-nose melodrama, and now we move, not just to more expressionistic flourishes, but personalized art.

And because these tend to be my personally preferred films of his, it's no coincidence that this half of the set includes many films I've already covered on this site.  As of this writing, all of those pages, listed below, have been updated to include the new Essential Fellini discs:

La Dolce Vita Satyricon

8 1/2 Roma

Amarcord

Now we're in the realm of glorious color with 1965's Juliet Of the Spirits.  I just started to make a case of Fellini's later works being much more than just an excuse for over-the-top imagery and extravagant set-pieces, but if any film of his falls short of that claim, I think it's this one.  Giulietta Masina feels like she's struggling with little actual character to perform in this story of a jealous wife who gets caught up in the realm of the quasi-supernatural.  It's like this should be a journey of self-discovery, but Fellini and his co-writers don't have a film grasp, or even a strong interest, in Juliet's inner life, so they just distract themselves with wild supporting cast members, costumes and sets.  And they are all great fun to look at.  But ultimately, this feels like a much more hollow experience than the rest of Fellini's catalog.  But at least the surface is a treat.

Criterion first released this on DVD in 2002.  Cult Films released it on BD in the UK a couple years ago, but this set marks its HD debut in the US: a 4k restoration taken from the 35mm original camera negative and the interpositive.

2002 Criterion DVD top; 2020 Criterion BD bottom.

If any film needs to look good, it's this one, and Criterion's new blu is indeed a beaut.  The DVD, which was quite impressive for its time, now looks downright muddy and over-contrasty, though it might make the BD feel slightly pale in direct comparison.  The AR's been fixed from 1.81:1 to 1.85:1, with the framing also shifting slightly.  Jumping direct from SD to HD is obviously a huge boost in clarity, with a little old school tweaking being removed at the same time.  Grain does seem suspiciously light, though, so I wonder if a little tweaking is still on-hand.  But it's a big leap forward from the DVD in any case.

Both discs include the original Italian mono track with optional English subtitles, but the blu cleans it up and boosts it to LPCM.

Criterion's 2020 BD.

The extras are awfully interesting on this one, too.  To start with, the DVD offered a vintage TV interview with Fellini about the film and the trailer, both of which are happily ported to the blu.  The blu also adds a great, made-for-television behind-the-scenes documentary, which is the real gem.  That's about it for Juliet extras, but since this disc had some free space, they stuck some other nice odds and ends on here.  First, pictured above, is Fellini: A Director's Notebook, a great autobiographical little project Fellini made for Italian TV.  It was previously included on Criterion's 8 1/2 blu, and I've matched the screenshot from there so that you can see it's the same grubby transfer.  Still, it's a must-have for this collection.

Arrow's 2010 BD top; Criterion's 2020 BD bottom.

They've also included a new 4k restoration of Toby Dammit, which is both exciting and frustrating.  Toby, of course, is Fellini's segment from the anthology film Spirits Of the Dead.  It's exciting because: yay - new 4k scan of Fellini's loosely adapted Edgar Allen Poe story!  But it's frustrating because it doesn't include the rest of the film and they also give it a low 3GB encode, since I guess they're treating it like an extra.  Anyway, the encode's not really that bad; it's more just the fact that this is only a portion of a complete film.  It would've made more sense if Fellini's segments from Boccaccio '70 and Love In the City were also included in this set.  But hey, I'll take it.

As you can see, it adjusts the 1.85:1 framing to reveal a little more picture compared to Arrow's 2010 BD, and reworks the colors.  Grain might actually still be a bit stronger on the old BD, thanks to the encoding, which looks pretty digitized in parts on the Criterion.  So, you know, it's a nice extra on the surface; but you still need Arrow's blu, which then kinda renders it pointless.

And now we come to one of the reasons I was most excited to get this set, And the Ship Sailed On.  It's such a pure and complete cinematic experience, one of those you can watch over and over again.  Freddie Jones leads an ensemble cast as a journalist accompanying the most privileged elite of society on a romantic ocean liner trip where they almost manage to escape the harsh realities of their world.  Criterion put it out on DVD so long ago (1999) that it's not even anamorphic, rendering it virtually unwatchable in today's era.  The only BD available was a French disc from Gaumont, and a Brazilian boxed set of Fellini films, but neither offer English language options.  So we were badly in need of this Criterion 4k restoration, taken from the 35mm OCN.  One of my most desperate double-dips in a long time.

1999 Criterion DVD top; 2020 Criterion BD bottom.

There's no comparison, and yet here we go.  The framing was pretty close, at 1.84:1, as opposed to the blu's 1.85:1.  But the story is obviously the resolution, which is crushed even further on a non-anamorphic DVD to something like 533x291p.  It's just a mess of artifacts, jagged edges and extreme edge enhancement.  The colors are crushed and the blacks are frequently milky.  This blu is like a whole new movie.  The Italian mono is restored to LPCM with optional English subtitles; it's like a whole new movie.

The DVD was also barebones.  Fun fact: Catherine Breillat worked on the French translation for this film.  It would've been neat if Criterion got her on camera to talk about that, since they have a relationship with her.  But oh well.  They did come up with one sweet extra; a vintage-hour long 'making of' documentary.  It has a distracting RAI watermark bouncing around the screen the entire time, and the picture quality in general is pretty low; but otherwise it's terrific.

Finally, we have another one of the titles I was most excited for, 1987's Intervista, a fantastical portrait of Cinecitta Studios and Fellini's personal history with it.  This film just oozes charm, from Sergio Rubini as a young Fellini fascinated by the wonders of their epic film productions to the reunion of Marcello Mastroianni (in full Mandrake regalia!) and Anita Ekberg, all under the guise of filming Kafka's Amerika.  Few films, if any, have ever managed to exude the magic of cinema so perfectly.

Intervista's only been available on DVD up 'till now.  In 2005, Koch Lorber put out an okay disc, but it hasn't aged well.  So Criterion's new 2020 BD, restored in 4k from the original 35mm camera negative, is another revelation.

2005 Koch DVD top; 2020 Criterion BD bottom.

Koch's DVD is widescreen at 1.84:1, which is tempting to call the wrong aspect ratio.  But apart from being shy of 1.85, it should be noted that the film did play theatrically in some regions in that ratio, it's more of an "alternative" ratio than the wrong one.  Still, this was made for Italian TV, and Criterion's 1.37:1 is probably the way the film really should be seen.  But a case could be made for the widescreen, as opposed to the terrible interlacing of Koch's disc, which is indefensible.  So thank goodness for Criterion finally bringing this adventure to HD.  Artifacts are gone and in there place is a natural film grain that had been smoothed away in SD.  The colors have been adjusted, too.  Is the woman in the center wearing a pink or orange skirt (based on other shots, I'd say Criterion has it right).

There might be some question about the audio.  The DVD has the original Italian in stereo and an obviously revisionist 5.1 mix.  The blu has mono.  I believe the stereo mix was created for the film theatrically, and the mono is the original television mix.  Either way, both have optional English subs and the BD has lossless LPCM.

only on the DVD

Extras-wise, both disc came pretty well equipped.  Koch had a great, hour-long documentary on the making of the film, including exclusive interviews with the cast and crew, plus the trailer and a stills gallery.  Unfortunately, Criterion lost that doc.  They have a different hour-long doc, which is more on Fellini in general, plus another interview with him, an audio interview with Mastroianni that used to be on their La Dolce Vita blu, and a collection of ads and stuff Fellini created for Fred & Ginger (one of multiple great films conspicuously and disappointingly absent from this set).  So, some decent stuff, but nothing Intervista-specific.  Hang onto your DVDs for that.

But that's not all!  This set includes a bonus BD disc with an over 3-hour long documentary about Marcello Mastroianni called I Remember from 1997, a film that had been previously released on DVD by Fox Lorber back in 2000.  It's directed by his girlfriend at the time, documentary filmmaker Anna Maria Tatò, which allowed the film to get very intimate with Marcello, giving this film a unique, personal and slightly eccentric feel to it.  Interestingly, after his death in 1996, Catherine Deneuve, their daughter and his ex-wife united in trying to prevent the film from being released, but they didn't succeed.  Anyway, there's a brief tag at the opening referring to this film's restoration, but it doesn't divulge any details.  The film's presented in 1.66:1 and looks attractive in HD, though the English 5.1 mix is lossy.

Essential Fellini comes in a large, flat laserdisc-sized box that includes a 156-page book of essays on each film (i.e. what you'd get in your traditional Criterion booklets but all bound together) and another 84-page guide to his films, which is where the more practical descriptions, lists of extras and "About the Transfer"s can be found.  It's a fantastic set, and with so many films being made available in HD - or with these latest restorations - for the first time, they've surely got every serious film lover drooling over it.  It's just a shame that, like with their Bergman box, it still leaves you needing to collect so many other great films by the director that've been left out.  I hate to think of how many people will buy this and think they've got the complete collection.  But they will have more than a great start; they'll be more than halfway there with an amazing set of films and features to dig into.

Fellini Week, Day 1: La Dolce Vita

I trust everyone had a nice holiday?  I hope so, and now we're back and ready to dive into some fantastic home video.  For the next few days, we're going to feature one of film's all-time greatest maestros who truly deserves some more extensive coverage on this site: Federico Fellini.  And yeah, that does mean we're in for a bunch of Criterion discs.  Nothin' wrong with that.

Update 6/4/21: Adding the Essential Fellini boxed set edition.

Now, 1960's La Dolce Vita isn't Fellini's first film.  Far from it; he'd already been directing for a decade and nominated for five Oscars and won a sixth before he came to this point in his career.  But it is the film, at least for me (and I believe this is a fairly commonly held opinion), where he stepped forward from his peers of already clearly talented writer/ directors to a unique and compelling voice in cinema.  It broke box office records in its day and won a ton of awards, but more to the point, Fellini started to allow his sardonic, cartoonist nature to merge with his cinematic work.  He doesn't quite develop into the larger than life surrealism you'd later find in films like City of Women, but he does craft some truly indelible images and unforgettable sequences, like the statue of Christ being helicoptered over the waving bikini girls, or the candlelit tour through the haunted castle.

This is also when Fellini found his perfect avatar in Marcello Mastroianni, who plays a paparazzo struggling to keep up with the idle and decadent rich of the day (including, of course, the ultra-glamorous Anita Ekberg).  Fellini is just sardonic enough to take the air out of our burgeoning celebrity culture, while still telling an affecting human story.  Mastroianni isn't just his generation's fashion horse for being hip and charming, he's sympathetic.  Meanwhile, Fellini is starting to present his distinct portrayal of Roman life: packed vignettes of bustling crowds and life exploding at the seams.  And the larger than life soundtracks of Nino Rota were already a regular staple in his arsenal, so there's really no aspect of Fellini's cinema that isn't firing at 100% in this one.

For such a famous film, it took La Dolce Vita a while to hit DVD in the US.  I think England got it first, but there were multiple foreign editions floating around out there over the years before Koch Lorber finally gave us something to replace our Image laserdiscs with here in the states.  Specifically, they gave us their 2-disc Collector's Edition in 2004.  They quickly followed that up with an improved 3-disc Deluxe Collector's Edition in 2005.  I've got both versions here, so we can get into that interesting little story.  But that's more or less been rendered ancient history since we've moved into the high def era, where Criterion gave us their new and improved blu-ray in 2014.  And in 202, they included it in their Essential Fellini boxed set.

1) 2004 KL DVD; 2) 2005 KL DVD; 3) 2014 Criterion BD; 4) 2020 Criterion BD.

So the two DVDs feature virtually the same transfer.  They're not 100% identical... the 2004 disc features a single pixel's worth of dead space along the right-hand side, which the 2005 disc corrects for.  And by the way, a sliver like that is not so rare, plenty of DVDs and BDs have them for whatever reason - it's so impossible to spot without taking screenshots, I guess most labels just often overlook 'em.  In fact, the Criterion blus (both of 'em, as the new 2020 disc utilizes the exact same transfer) has a similar pixel's worth of dead space on the left-hand side.  But anyway, that means yes, technically the two DVDs aren't identical transfers, but for all intents and purposes, the Deluxe DVD doesn't improve or adjust the transfer from their first edition.  Issues, like the banding you can see in the second set of shots, persist and fine detail looks exactly the same, which is to say, alright for DVD, but pretty a bit smudgy and clumsy compared to Criterion's crisp blus.

The aspect ratio also shifts slightly between Koch and Criterion, going from 2.33 or 2.34 (based on that single pixel-wide sliver) on the DVDs to 2.35:1 on the blu.  But it's not just a very slightly wider frame; you can see the DVDs actually noticeably more image along both sides, while Criterion has extra slivers along the top and bottom.  How does that much difference fit into nearly identical framing, you might ask.  Because the DVD was slightly squished, which the BD corrects.  Without the constraints of standard def compression, Criterion handily removes the aforementioned banding and smudging, too.  Criterion describes this as a "[n]ew 4K digital restoration by the Film Foundation," and it's generally a very sharp and satisfying presentation, but grain is a little patchy and blocky for a 4k scan.  It seems to have gotten rave reviews on other sites, but I'd temper that a little.  Like a B+.  A great scan that could've been more carefully compressed.

1) 2004 KL DVD; 2) 2005 KL DVD; 3) 2014 Criterion BD; 4) 2020 Criterion BD.

Both Koch DVDs give us a surprising variety of audio options, presenting the original Italian track in its original mono, as well as revisionist stereo and 5.1 mixes, with optional English and Spanish subtitles.  On the 2004 DVD, they're yellow, which surprisingly seemed to have rubbed a lot of people the wrong way.  Forums and online reviews all complained about the "gaudy yellow" subtitles.  I don't know - yellow is a very standard color for subtitles, and if you've ever seen movies where white subtitles disappear against white backgrounds, they're pleasingly easier to read.  But for some reason, people really pounced on this one, and Koch Lorber noticed.  Their 2005 DVD now offers the subtitles in both yellow and white (and yes, that for the Spanish subs, too).  Anyway, Criterion dumps the remixes and just gives us the original uncompressed monaural soundtrack in LPCM, with freshly translated English subtitles and, yes, they're white.

But I mentioned a reason to hold onto your DVDs, right?  And it's not because of yellow subtitles.  Here's what Koch Lorber still has that Criterion doesn't: a huge supply of special features, especially on their Deluxe edition.  But let's start out with their initial 2-disc Collector's Edition, because that's not too shabby even by itself.  Disc 1 starts out with an appreciative introduction by Alexander Payne, and then delivers an audio commentary by film historian Richard Schickel.  It's a little flat, but outlines all the basics anyone would want to know.  Then Disc 2 starts to get really interesting.  First up is "Fellini TV," which is a collection of television commercials and other odds and ends Fellini directed over the years.  There's a whole ton of 'em and his personality and style definitely shine through.  If you've ever wanted to dive really deep into Fellini, this is it.  Then there's a twelve minute featurette of interviews with Ekberg and Mastrionni, taken from Koch's Intervista documentary, a brief vintage TV interview with Fellini, an even briefer look at his offices in Cinecitta, a restoration demonstration (though, unlike the feature on disc 1, it's interlaced, so it's not totally representative), and a photo gallery.  There's also a bunch of bonus trailers, and an insert with notes by Dennis Bartok.

Anita Ekberg, from disc 3

So it's already a great little package, but the Deluxe edition ups the ante with an additional DVD of special features, and not just a tiny bonus; there's some real hefty stuff.  It starts off with an hour long documentary on Nino Rota.  Then there are new on-camera interviews with Ekberg, which is pretty great, screenwriter Tullio Pinelli and Fellini's old and slightly eccentric friend Rinaldo Gelend.  That's rounded off by a couple short, old television interviews with Fellini and Mastrionni, and a very brief (under two minutes) clip of Donald Sutherland talking about Fellini.  At a few points it feels like they're throwing in whatever scraps they can get their hands on, but most of it's pretty interesting and it all adds up to an impressive supplementary package.  The Deluxe Edition also comes in an impressive 12"x8" box, which houses a rolled poster, a glossy 40-page booklet by Peter Bondanella (in addition to the Bartok insert from the original set, which is also included here) and five photo cards.

And Criterion?  Unfortunately, they've carried over absolutely none of that.  But that's not to say they don't have anything.  They've created their own stuff, which is also quite good.  Their 2014 blu has a great little chat with assistant director Lina Wertmüller, and a couple scholarly featurettes by David Forgacs, Antonello Sarno and ::kogonada (that's like his Hip-Hop name, I guess).  Then they've got a vintage interview with Fellini, which is different from any of the Koch ones, and substantially longer and more in-depth, plus an even longer audio-only interview with Mastroianni.  They've also got their own gallery and an insert which folds out into a poster with notes by Gary Giddins.

And the new 2020 blu?  Here's where it starts to distinguish itself.  First, it essentially carries over everything from the 2014... Technically, the audio interview with Mastroianni has been moved over to their Intervista disc; but if you're getting the set, you're getting the interview either way.  And they've added the fourth part of an on-going Belgian TV interview with Fellini that they've spreading across various discs in the collection. Plus, of course, the set includes all the other films and extras, including the two books, that aren't specifically tied to La Dolce Vita.  But crucially, Criterion has also added an hour-long French documentary to this disc that is all about La Dolce Vita, including some exclusive interviews with cast and crew members like Anouk Aimee, Valeria Ciangottini and second unit director Dominique Delouche.  So while there isn't a new transfer, Criterion has improved upon their previous disc.

So, you know, I don't mean to make it sound like Criterion's extras aren't good.  They absolutely are, especially the improved 2020 version (only available in the set; not sold separately as of this writing).  It's just a shame how much Koch Lorber assembled that was dropped (although I believe the Anita Ekberg interview is the same one on the UK blu-ray from Nouveaux Pictures, and Umbrella's blu-ray in Australia seems to feature a lot of the Koch material, including "Fellini TV").  The 4k restoration handily blows away the old DVD transfers though, of course, so you're definitely going to want to double-dip.  Just hang onto your DVDs, too, if you've got 'em.  And if you don't, yeah, it might be worth tracking down the Deluxe box just to compliment your blu, because it's still pretty sweet.

Is It Worth Importing Eric Rohmer's Masterful Triple Agent?

Eric Rohmer kept making films right up to his death at age 90 in 2010.  It may not be the most popular opinion, but it's my contention that his final films are some of his very best.  One of his last, Triple Agent, was released theatrically around the world in 2004, and on DVD in 2005 as a new release.  Here in America, we got it from Koch Lorber.  In the UK, they got it from Artificial Eye, and in France they got it from Blaq Out (apparently the exact same disc as the Artificial Eye one, right down to the menus).  I remember thinking back then that I absolutely had to import this title, which I did, because the US DVD was inferior.  But now, comparing them in 2017, is there a substantial difference?  They're both fullscreen, have the same extras.  Is it worth the hassle of importing?

Triple Agent is a wonderful film that I'm always freshly impressed with each time I revisit it.  No spoilers, but the epilogue blows me away every time.  But as is typically the case with Rohmer, it's not for everybody.  Yes, it's a spy film based on a true, unsolved mystery.  It's a matter of life and death, but there are no gun fights or wry one-liners whispered by people dressed as cat burglars while hanging off of window ledges.  Triple Agent a very domestic look at a real life incident following the Russian civil war in Paris in the 1930s as tensions of rose over another pending World War, but the story is in the humanity of its characters.  Your teenager will hate how everybody stands around calmly debating fine art, and all the tension is kept hidden beneath the surface.  But if your antenna is attuned to finer subtleties, then oh shit!  What a thoroughly gripping tale, expertly told by Rohmer with just a taste of vintage newsreel footage and a terrific cast of actors.

Now, you might be wondering why should we be concerned with old DVDs of this title, regardless of how good the film is?  Wasn't Triple Agent included in Potemkine Films 2013 massive 52-disc blu-ray boxed set [pictured right] that restored Rohmer's entire filmography?  Well, yes, but...  First of all, that set sells for roughly $300, and we're not all living in that affluent tax bracket.  But much more critically, Triple Agent is one of Rohmer's three final films that Potemkine, for whatever reason, decided not to restore and release on blu-ray.  It's in the set only as a DVD using the same old master.  Don't ask me why; it was shot on 35mm, after all.  It's one of the set's most frustrating aspects, right alongside their neglecting to translate any of their special features for English-speaking audiences.  So yeah, as much as they probably should be, these old DVDs are far from obsolete in 2017; they're still the best options we've got.

Oh, Artificial Eye has also included Triple Agent in their 2010 The Essential Eric Rohmer 4-disc DVD set.  But packaged together or separately, it's the same disc inside.

Koch Lorber's US DVD on top; Artificial Eye's UK DVD below.

Since these are the best we've got, let's make the best selection we can.  Yes, both DVDs are fullscreen (Rohmer seemed partial to fullscreen framing, anyway, so that ratio may not be so controversial in this case) and seem to be using the same master, but there's more to it once we begin dig in.  First of all, Koch's DVD is 1.33:1, while Artificial Eye's is 1.31:1.  Koch has a bit more along the sides, possibly including a tiny bit too much on the left (look at that first set of shots, is that the edge of the matte?), while AE has a sliver more along the top.  Still, big whoop.  More distracting, however, is the unsharpening tool [fun fact: despite its name, unsharpening is meant to make an image look sharper] Koch seems to have used on their transfer, blowing out fine highlights and edges.  It may be less of a crime on a DVD than a blu-ray, just because the image is necessarily always going to be further from a perfect representation of the original film; but it still looks unnatural and unattractive on the US DVD, especially on larger televisions.

Both DVDs include the original French audio in a nice, clean Dolby Stereo 2.0 track.  Artificial Eye also offers an additional 5.1 mix.  That's interesting, but not as interesting as the subtitle situation.  Both DVDs offer optional/ removable English subtitles.  That's a basic necessity and good it's there.  Artificial Eye also includes Danish, Finnish, Norwegian, Portuguese and Swedish subtitles, which is nice if you speak those languages.  But more puzzling to me was the last subtitle track: French?  HoH subtitles for French viewers, you might think?  No.  In fact, they don't subtitle 95% of the film.  They only pop up a few times, when characters speak Russian and/or German?  So French viewers can read the few lines of dialogue they don't recognize when spoken, sure.  What's odd about that?

Well, the English subtitles (yes, on both discs - I checked) don't subtitle these lines at all.  We never learn what's being said in those moments.  And that may be appropriate, just like how Saving Private Ryan doesn't subtitle the surrendering German soldiers at the end of the beach invasion.  The audience is meant to identify with the man characters who don't understand the other language being spoken.  Makes sense, a natural assumption; except French viewers do get those lines subtitled.  So are we supposed to or not?  Is this just a failing of all English translations of this film to date?  Since native viewers did get the translation, I suspect it is.  ...And by the way, if you're wondering, I ran the French subs of the untranslated dialogue pictured above through Google's software, and in that moment, he's roughly saying, "in turn case, it is very well informed.  He has never been mistaken in his picks," which does make a little more sense in context.  😉

For extras, both DVDs offer the same thing: The Miller-Skobline Case featurette.  It's a nearly 40-minute interview with a historian and the niece of the film's titular triple agent, who talk about the actual case and theorize on what really happened.  Irene Skobline also talks about how Eric Rohmer reached out to her and how she then consulted on the film.  But for the most part, the talk is about the real case, with Skobline and her family devoted to clearing her uncle's name, and Nicolas Werth giving a more objective run-down of the historically known facts.  It should definitely satisfy viewers who watched the film and came away wondering what really happened, but it doesn't give us much about the filmmaking.  The only other extra, again on both discs, is the original theatrical trailer.

Triple Agent is like the anti-John Wyck, but for the right audiences, it's another Rohmer masterpiece.  And between the two discs, the Artificial Eye is the objectively superior option (or, again, the French DVD from Blaq Out, since it's identical).  But whether the that makes it worth jumping through the hoops of importing is up to each of you.  The extra French subtitles were a neat discovery; but they're still not very useful unless you're prepared to translate them on your own.  And the foreign PQ is better, but both DVDs come up lacking in the modern, HD era.  Criterion?  Arrow Academy?  Somebody want to help us out with these three final films?