Rating: 3.5/5
Criterion Challenge 2022 | 48/52 | Amy Heckerling’s Closet Picks
At night, in a small town in Italy, five young men walk together, arm in arm. They are on their way to the boardwalk, which holds the last major event of the summer: the election of Miss Mermaid 1953. There, we meet Alberto, a do-nothing daydreamer. We meet Leopoldo, an intellectual and aspiring playwright without a lick of talent. Moraldo is the youngest of the crew who longs to escape small-town life. Riccardo is a talented singer, to be sure, performing on stage, but one who dreams of making it big as a singer/actor without the chops to back it up. Fausto is the group’s leader and a bit of a heartbreaker—we meet him chasing one girl, who reminds him that he’s with Sanda, Moraldo’s sister. They all share one thing: they’re unemployed and mooching off their parents.
Sandra wins Miss Mermaid 1953. As they give her a sash, a thundering rainstorm brings everything to a sudden close as folks run inside for cover. Still, the women gather around and congratulate Sandra. Sandra grows faint and passes out. Riccardo calls for a doctor. Moraldo assures their mother that Sandra is okay. They call for Fausto. When Sandra’s mother asks what is wrong, the doctor sends everyone out. Knowing what’s wrong, Fausto runs home to pack his bag and run off. Molaldo catches up with Fausto and confirms his suspicions: Sandra is pregnant, and Fausto is the father.
But Francesco, Fausto’s father, won’t put up with his slacker son, forcing him to marry Sandra. After the wedding, Fausto and Sandra have their honeymoon in Rome. Sandra’s mother rules that Fausto cannot come to live with them until he has a career. While Fausto is away, the boys continue their aimless life of cafés and pool halls, killing time until nothing is left but to go home. When Fausto returns, will he settle into his new life of monogamy and employment?
You're nobodies. All of you. What do you think you're doing?
Fellini often explores arrested development, when childhood wonder becomes an inability to grow up. Also, his leads tend to be philanderers who are afraid to settle down, stuck on the idea that whoever would stick around can tolerate some infidelity. Here, Fellini explores these with a more straightforward approach than his later films. There is no dreaminess. There is no circus (although there is a masquerade ball with a symbolic clown statue).
The boardwalk becomes the locus point where the boys’ dreams seem closest to reality. It is a place they return to, able to look out into the ocean of infinite possibility. But they lack the means or drive to cross that proverbial sea, trapped by their egos. It’s only Moraldo who shows any desire to make that journey.
Amy Heckerling called I Vitelloni “Mean Streets before Mean Streets… [but] sadly lacking in Ronnettes songs.” The comparison is apt—the narrator is conversational, asking questions and reflecting as he breaks down who is who and what is what. As we meet our cast, the camera leans into long, moving dolly shots. The story uses montage to connect large swaths of passing time as we see our characters’ lives unfold.
Even in the ending, which gives no clear resolution, we see Fellini’s inability to commit. As an artist, he wishes to draw the audience in and let them take off on their own journey. And so he returns home to the same wells, unable to move on, disconnecting further from reality.