Some have seen this as a light-hearted play on the idea of art versus life, while others find it self-indulgent. It certainly is the former, but not the latter. On the contrary, Chiara Mastroiani bravely faces the obvious: her striking resemblance to her father as a cosmic joke denying her identity. Here comes Fabrice Luchini with a quote: "Everything meaningful is inherited" (or something in that line). Did Nietzsche really say that, knowing he's a proponent for the totally independent self? Could such a self really exist or is it an artistic ideal? Not even the icon Catherine Deneuve is effortlessly brilliant; on the contrary, she is forced to confront the trauma of sharing a life with this elusive character, Marcello. This is perhaps what makes a great actor: the earthy, solid presence. Deneuve is charmant. Luchini comes up with another familiar musing: isn't what makes an actor great the ability to disappear? "Identity is nothing." But Stefania Sandrelli, with that overwhelming warmth and compassion of hers, advises Chiara to not run away from herself; to stop "putting life on hold", as Chiara herself says she has done. She feels safer as her father, while Melvil Poupaud violates the mask. Nicole Garcia, on the other hand, violates Chiara's identity at the very onset of the film/quest. Garcia has done an outstanding job directing a film on the lack of identity, L'Adversaire. I'm not too familiar with Luchini's work, but he's obviously legendary. Poupaud does portrayals of violent lovers... I'm sure the references are endless and the film would speak ever deeper to those in the know, and upon the rewatching it invites.
One could muse indefinitely, and that movement is the film's forte. It is subtle, light and amusing. Like Marcello. Conveying it effortlessly, Chiara evokes the depth and darkness which might be her own... or inherited.
