This isn't a film that you just watch; this is a film you study. There are many barriers to understanding this movie: the time period (the early 1960's), the unfamiliarity of the character types (Upper class, artistic Italians), the setting (Italy), the language and the unusually sparse subtitles, and--maybe more importantly--the structure of the movie itself, weaving in a seemingly non-linear way to create a glimpse of life for a movie-director-in-crisis.
I don't think I understood the movie. Honestly, I'm not sure I even quite could tell all the various characters apart, although I always recognized Mastroianni (in his Woody Allen-esque glasses--yes, I know that Woody didn't invent them and who knows who wore them first!).
So discussion about plot, not a chance. I could see watching this in a film class, and wonderful discussion ensuing about creativity and process and human nature, but sitting in my living with no context for understanding it or anyone who could do color commentary for me a la Mystery Science Theatre--I'm a disappointment to my fans, I know.
One thing that was especially striking to me: the visual impact of the movie was striking. It's not only filmed in black and white; the contrast is crisp, suggesting to my untrained eye that the actual real color pallet used was designed to highlight the black and white nature of the visual. And I have to consider whether symbolically, the irony of having such starkly polarized imagery is deliberately set against the ambiguity--the grayness--of the protagonist's murky movie and stymied creative process.
Or not. Maybe it was just the fashion of the time. Like I said, for me, this would be a movie to study in context of a community; alone (or with Rob, who watched most of it with me), it was baffling. Beautiful, but baffling.
I'm on a roll now, one down.
