I Vitelloni

Rating PG Formats DVD Genre Classic Directed by Federico Fellini Publisher Criterion Collection External Links Criterion Collection

Given my ethnic background, it seems almost heretical to say this: I'm not a big fan of Fellini. It's not that I don’t like his work. It's that most of his better known, later works like La Dolce Vita, Juliet of the Spirits and 8 1/2 leave me cold. I can appreciate their formal beauty and admire their technique but they are not movies to which I return.

What's always bugged me about Fellini is that I so love his earlier, subtle work that the inflated look and values of his later films always leaves me feeling disappointed. To me, it's like watching an older actor whose made the transition from vital and intense to ripe ham. Of course, the beauty of home video is that we can always go back to see the earlier work.

For me, I Vitelloni (1953) is Fellini's most perfect film, a gem of feeling and observation. It is the work of a young artist in love with film and with life, two joys which here fly off the screen in abundance.

The five young men at the heart of this story are classic Italian vitelloni. Literally translated, the term means, "fatted calves," meat on the hoof just waiting for the axe to fall. In the more colloquial sense of the word, it means aimless young men. This is certainly true of our heroes. All are hitting 30, the ceiling of allowable youth. Intelligent, some even attractive, but completely without anything even approximating a clue. These men are trapped not just in their small town, but also by their lack of any drive to get out. They talk about it all the time but, in the end, only one will actually board that train.

If this basic plot sounds familiar it is because it has been borrowed ad nauseum over the years. Among the better examples, Barry Levinson's Diner (1982) might even be accused of being a rip-off if it weren't so good on its own terms. Fellini himself gingerly returned to similar territory in Amarcord (1972). As good as any of these follow-ups may have been, none really compares to the original for one simple reason: Although autobiographical, Fellini refuses to bathe his characters in the strained light of nostalgia.

I Vitelloni stands at the cusp of Fellini's career. Like most Italian filmmakers of his generation, he was schooled in the ways of the neo-realist movement. This never sat well with him and his first two films, The White Sheik and Variety Lights, reveal some uncomfortable attempts to both utilize and break with the tradition. In I Vitelloni, his third film, Fellini finds the perfect balance. Although he shoots the town with a neorealist's sense of documentation (primarily Viterbo and Ostia as stand-ins for his hometown of Rimini), Fellini more than willingly introduces cinematic conceits at appropriately emotion-driven moments. This occurs most beautifully in I Vitelloni's final scene. As the train carries off the one man who makes his escape, we see each of the others still asleep in their beds. Instead of a static collection of head-on shots, Fellini moves his camera across each room as though we are seeing these moments from a passing train. The effect isn't just a nice montage, it's heart stopping, a moment that could only be called “poetic neo-realism.”

Although I Vitelloni is a very funny movie, the strongest impression one takes away from it is a kind of sadness. The film is suffused with a quiet melancholy. Each of these characters is rapidly defined as having something to offer - one is a singer, another a playwright, etc., - yet none is gifted enough to lift themselves above the ordinary lives to which they have been assigned. Soon, their horseplay is revealed to be little more than tired attempts to remain children or, just as important, remain in this town where they feel far safer than they could ever admit. At the same time, Fellini refuses to sentimentalize these characters or to pity them. Clearly, the director has the greatest possible affection for these men while also willingly exposing the flaws beneath their surface charms. The result is five vividly drawn, highly differentiated characters. People, in short, just like the rest of us.

The performances throughout are a treat. Alberto Sordi, generally an acquired taste, as the mama's boy who wants more than anything to be the "class clown," the great Leopoldo Trieste as the sad-eyed playwright, and the director's own brother, Riccardo Fellini, as the singer happy to be a local celebrity, wonderfully carry the weight of I Vitelloni's comic side. Small town playboy Franco Fabrizi and, especially, the quiet and observant Franco Interlenghi give gravity to the drama of the piece. All, though, contribute equally to the humanity that guides I Vitelloni to its necessary and beautifully realized final moments.

Criterion Collection has released I Vitelloni with a fair transfer. In general, the cleaning up has been well-accomplished but the source print has a tendency of falling out of focus during dissolves and this causes some minor distractions. Beyond this, the disk contains a very entertaining 35-minute collection of interviews with surviving members of the cast and crew. From the sound of their remembrances, any oddball behavior portrayed onscreen was only mirroring what was going on offscreen.