Federico Fellini (Italy, 1920–1993) is a major figure in the history of cinema, who created his own highly personal and baroque cinematic language. He had his first major success in 1954 with La Strada, in which his wife and favourite actress Giulietta Masina plays the unforgettable Gelsomina, an innocent clown who falls prey to the violence of the post-war period. With La Dolce Vita of 1960, Fellini turned his attention to modern life and the scene in which Marcello Mastroianni and Anita Ekberg embrace in the Trevi fountain has become a globally recognized symbol of seduction. Psychoanalysis is a clear influence on 8 1/2 (1963), in which the character of the film-maker, played by Mastroianni, is a fantasy double of Fellini himself, while Fellini Roma (1972) and Amarcord (1973) are highly personal, combining caricature, dreams and nostalgia. In the 1980s Fellini made Ginger and Fred (1986) and Intervista (1987), both melancholic reflections on the death of cinema. Through the prism of the director’s own desires and obsessions, Fellini’s work is universal in scope, dealing with modern humanity in all its contradictions.
There are limitations to reviewing an introductory book when one only has basic knowledge. I can't critique it or comment on its accuracy as would a person who's seen all of Fellini's films (I've seen three), let alone someone who's written a dissertation on him.
This is as intelligently written as I'd hope a Cahiers du Cinema book would be - it's the first of theirs I've read. It seems like a good, brief academic analysis and has some luscious description befitting its subject. Amarcord and 8½ were made much clearer to me, whilst it merely refreshed my memories of La Dolce Vita rather than adding new understanding, most likely because I first saw that not long after hearing Mark Kermode discuss it on the radio.
There is a lovely sense of Fellini's life and times here too (and of course that legendary ego): such energy and inspiration when he was young, surfing then creating waves, and latterly a sense of tiredness, fumbling for ideas, a wish to confront television and its siphoning of cinema audiences, whilst also being frustrated and resigned to this change.
Only about 50 of the 100 pages contain text; the rest are glossy images from films, so it is really a short book and quick to read. It's worthwhile as an introduction if you're slightly interested, but not (yet) quite enough to read a longer book on Fellini - and especially if you can get it cheaply.