The Voice of the Moon

This is one of Fellini's best movies, and one of the most underrated pictures of all time. This masterpiece includes all the main themes of Fellini's career. It doesn't follow a "prose style", but a "lyric style". It's like a visual poem. In fact this film narrates the journey of Ivo Salvini (Roberto Benigni) through dreams and memories, which actually belong to the great director. As a matter of fact Salvini, alter ego of Fellini, says: "I love to remember, maybe more than living". The protagonist wanders in the countryside, asking himself about life, and meets Gonnella (Paolo Villaggio), who feels himself oppressed by the giant and factitious society, made of useless appearance. The noisy square is the symbol of a chaotic society (circensian, as Fellini would say), where the individuality is dead, superseded by an alienated mass. This crowd is insensitive to the voice of inner being, to the voice of the moon. In this film the noise contrasts with the silence, the loud public square contrasts with the noiseless countryside, which helps along subjectivity. The omnipresent television clashes with the moments of poetry, like the scenes of Benigni reciting poems of the Italian romantic poet Giacomo Leopardi. Poetry wins over the modern society, which doesn't listen the voice of inner being, deafened by the noise of the Machine. Poetry is like a flight, like a dance, like music (the waltz scene in the disco is wonderful). At the end only the most misunderstood people can catch the moon, that glow of infinite. Nobody can explain what happens. Maybe it's not necessary to explain. It's enough to keep silence and listen. Benigni and Villaggio are two great actors, the soundtrack by Nicola Piovani is impressive and touching, the set design by Dante Ferretti has a beautiful imagery, and the direction of the master is outstanding as usual. All that enables us to listen for a moment the voice of the moon.

The bitterness is the basic trait of this last Fellini. You discover all what you know or define as Felliniesque. You admire Roberto Begnini , being more prepared to remind scenes from his last Pinocchios. You feel pity and admiration about characters. And you feel the fall of a world, suggested, in so precise manner, by entire atmosphere defining a simple - baroque good bye. A film only reminding themes, characters, idiosincrasies. And the bitterness as basic virtue.

It is a pity that Fellini's last film is not better known as it represents something of a return to form after a series of disappointments. .Fellini's visual imagination is still intact but some of the wonderful precision of imagery is no longer present. Perhaps by the end of his career too many of his old collaborators had died or retired. The best part is the first half hour seen entirely from the perspective of the insane central characters. Their obsession with the moon provides the alibi for many evocative night shots, (I've often thought that one thing that distinguishes great film makers is how they film the night), as well as the spectacular climactic sequence when they imagine that they have trapped the moon. Elsewhere there is typical Fellini fun with the crowning of 'Miss Flower' complete with an outsize King and Queen of the Gnocci and a final shower of flower on all the contestants. 'La voce della Luna' shares much of 'Ginger and Fred's' distaste for the contemporary world summed up in a sequence in which a disco rave is interrupted by a Strauss waltz. This is far more poetic and unexpected than anything in the predictable 'Ginger and Fred'. Those worried by the narrative incoherence of Fellini can bury their boring heads in a screen writing manual. Perhaps the current international popularity of Roberto Benigni, little known outside Italy when the fim was made may yet allow this flawed but haunting film to gain the audience it deserves.

This is a sad swan song from the director. In many ways. It is a rambling affair, too wordy and shot as if on sound stage with harsh and uncompromising light. Yet there is something about the (oh so Italian!) characters that come and go we imagine, throughout the overlong running time, that the whole will spark into life. It doesn't but what is so sad is that there are, now and again, moments that jump out as trademark Felliniesque visions. Flimsy white lace costumes revolve in unison, a beauty contest promises to burst forth, a group of unfortunates gather to catch a glimpse of 'pussy' as a neighbour undresses and finally a tethered moon brought to Earth. But overall and despite treasurable seconds this stands as a rather forlorn and unconsummated endeavour. A sad farewell indeed.

Don't know why I'd never seen this one before, but I'm sure glad I've seen it now.