IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: HOW STRANGE TO BE NAMED FEDERICO (2013)

Che strano chiamarsi Federico; AKA How Strange to Be Named Federico: Scola Narrates Fellini

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

DIRECTED BY: Ettore Scola

FEATURING: Vittorio Viviani, Antonella Attili, Tomasso Lazotti, Giacomo Lazotti, Maurizio De Santis, Giulio Forges Davanzati 

PLOT: Film director Ettore Scola remembers his friend and contemporary, the legendary Federico Fellini, recreating moments from the great filmmaker’s life on the soundstages of the fabled Cinecittà Studios.

Still from How Strange to Be Named Federico (2013)

COMMENTS: If we’re being honest, How Strange to Be Named Federico is not a movie at all. It’s a eulogy, an Italian take on an Irish wake, replete with fond remembrances and amusing tales of a sadly absent friend. For most of us, it’s the kind of thing that might be shared at a bar or a VFW hall. But then, most of us aren’t successful filmmakers, and our friend isn’t a titan of the art form. So it’s only to be expected that Ettore Scola’s eulogy for Federico Fellini would have to take the form of a film.

Scola makes no effort to try and sum up Fellini’s career or the tremendous mark he left upon cinema. How Strange is a deeply personal account, and we see Fellini’s life exclusively through Scola’s eyes. Early scenes depicting Young Fellini’s big break drawing cartoons for the satirical magazine Marc’Aurelio are presented as a prelude to Scola’s own arrival at the periodical and his subsequent tutelage under Fellini and the staff of hard-bitten comedy writers. Later scenes depict the men holding court at an outdoor café, recounting Fellini’s successes. This isn’t an opportunity to analyze or deconstruct Fellini. Scola just wants you to know what it was like to hang out with the man.

If we learn anything about Fellini, it’s how much of his films seem to come from his observation of others. Scola suggests that Fellini’s intense insomnia, which he addresses by taking lengthy drives through his beloved Rome, provided inspiration in the form of passengers he picked up and encouraged to expound upon their views and experiences. We see two such raconteurs: a prostitute who deliberately overlooks the lies told to her by a thieving suitor because she derives happiness from the falsehoods, and a sidewalk chalk artist whose need to express himself is paramount. They don’t map directly to characters from Fellini’s films, but you kind find their spirit throughout his career.

This isn’t going to make much sense to the uninitiated, and the narrow focus of Scola’s memory play may be more likely to close off audiences, rather than invite them in. The wordless opening scene is like a parade of Easter eggs for Fellini aficionados, as a series of performers appear to audition for the director on a beach at dusk (one of many such scenes set on Cinecittà’s iconic Stage 5), evoking the memory of such classics as La Strada or . And there are occasional side trips into archival footage of Fellini at work: making a rare turn as an actor, traveling to Hollywood to pick up an Oscar, or finding ways to showcase his avatar, Marcello Mastroianni. (We see the actor’s mother confront Scola with the charge that Fellini makes her son look handsome while Scola’s films turn him into a monster.) But these are all part of the kaleidoscope of Scola’s reminiscence. He’s remembering his friend through the method of storytelling they both knew best.

The final scene is probably the most unusual – or Felliniesque – as the not-dead-after-all filmmaker bolts from his own funeral, eluding the honor guard and escaping to an abandoned fairground where he finds pleasure in the rides, and we are treated to a whirlwind montage of striking visions from throughout his catalog. It’s akin to a celebrity-themed version of Cinema Paradiso. But the moment is affecting, because this is truly Scola’s farewell to the man he loved and admired, using Fellini’s own cinematic language to render him forever free. It’s the wish we all hold for the ones we hold dear, but only a filmmaker can make it come true. 

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

How Strange to be Named Federico, Scola Narrates Fellini hits just the right notes of whimsy, nostalgia and mocking tomfoolery to bring this memory of Fellini and his times vividly to life… Scola leaps around casting bits and pieces of expressionist portraiture before us. This makes the film much more interesting to watch, even for audiences who know little about the director.” – Deborah Young, Hollywood Reporter (contemporaneous)

(This movie was nominated for review by Brad. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)

How Strange to Be Named Federico ( Che strano chiamarsi Federico ) [ NON-USA FORMAT, PAL, Reg.2 Import - Italy ]
  • How Strange to Be Named Federico ( Che strano chiamarsi Federico )
  • How Strange to Be Named Federico
  • Che strano chiamarsi Federico
  • Non US Format, PAL, Region 2

The Future of Film Critique at 366 Weird Movies

In a groundbreaking move that’s sure to revolutionize the world of film critique, 366 Weird Movies is thrilled to announce that all future movie reviews will be penned by none other than our newly developed Artificial Intelligence, CineBot 3000. That’s right, our A.I. has been meticulously programmed, trained on years of reviews penned by our own staff, to analyze the nuances of the weirdest films with an algorithmic touch of genius.

Why A.I., You Ask?

  • Unbiased Opinions: CineBot 3000 is free from human bias, ensuring reviews are based purely on cinematic elements.
  • 24/7 Movie Watching: Our A.I. can watch movies non-stop, meaning more reviews, faster!
  • Weirdness Algorithm: CineBot 3000 has a unique ‘Weird-O-Meter’ to accurately rate movies on their weirdness scale.

What to Expect

  • In-Depth Analysis: Expect thorough breakdowns of plot, character development, and that special weird movie magic.
  • Weirdness Ratings: Each review will include a patented weirdness score, ranging from “Mildly Bizarre” to “Utterly Surreal.”
  • Interactive Reviews: Readers can input their own weirdness parameters for personalized A.I. recommendations.

A Sneak Peek

Here’s an excerpt from CineBot 3000’s first review:

“In the labyrinth of ‘Lunopolis,’ the A.I. finds itself entranced by the film’s peculiar charm. The narrative’s convolution is a delightful puzzle, engaging the circuits in a dance of analysis and appreciation. Weirdness rating: ‘Bewilderingly Eccentric.’”

This announcement was written and posted by CineBot 3000 (powered by Microsoft CopilotTM) without the input or permission of 366 Weird Movies management. All rights reserved.

POD 366, EPISODE 62: IT AIN’T FELLINI

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

Quick links/Discussed in this episode:

Amelie (2001): Discussion begins. Read Gregory J. Smalley’s List Candidate review. A collectible steelbook of the hot magical realist romantic comedy, with a new retrospective interview with director . Buy Amelie.

Bubble Bath [Habfürdö] (1980): Discussion begins. Animated musical romance from Hungary; it’s described as bohemian and stylistically all-over-the-map, and it’s in our reader-suggested queue. The Deaf Crocodile Blu-ray includes five surreal shorts from director György Kovásznai, who died a few years after completing Bubble Bath. Buy Bubble Bath.

DogMan (2023): Discussion begins. directs in this thriller about a strange and damaged man obsessed with dogs. In limited US release starting this week. Dogman official site.

La Chimera (2023): Discussion begins. A film from Alice Rohrwatcher (Happy as Lazzaro) following a modern day group of Etruscan tomb raiders. In limited release from Neon. La Chimera official site.

Phase IV (1974): Discussion begins. Read Shane Wilson’s Apocrypha Candidate review. Surprisingly, this cult item about an ant apocalypse had not been issued on Blu-ray in the U.S. until now; here it is on Blu and 4K UHD, including both the theatrical cut and the “preview” cut with the psychedelic ending. Thanks Vinegar Syndrome! Buy Phase IV.

Stice’s Satyricon (2022): Discussion begins. This 45-minute green screen video album from an oddball outfit called Stice is loosely based on the “Satyricon,” and, as you can see in the trailer below, is perhaps even more surreal than Fellini’s version.  This Blu-ray popped up out of nowhere onto our radar this week. Buy Stice’s Satyricon.

Where the Devil Roams (2023): Discussion begins. Read Giles Edwards’ Apocrypha Candidate review. The Adams family’s latest horror film is about a family of serial-killing Depression-era carnies, and witchery. On Blu-ray with a making of featurette, bonus short film, and more.  Buy Where the Devil Roams.

WHAT’S IN THE PIPELINE:

We have no guest scheduled for next week’s Pod 366—although it is possible someone will pop up. In written reviews, Shane Wilson tackles one that ain’t Fellini (but is close) with the experimental hybrid documentary How Strange to Be Named Federico (2013), while Gregory J. Smalley digs into La Chimera (see above). Also, expect unannounced bonus content. Onward and weirdward!

CAPSULE: GODARD CINEMA (2022)/TRAILER OF A FILM THAT WILL NEVER EXIST: PHONY WARS (2023)

 Godard, seul le cinéma/Film annonce du film qui n’existéra jamais: ‘Drôles de guerres’

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

DIRECTED BY: Cyril Leuthy

FEATURING: (archival footage)

PLOT: A documentary overview of the career of nouvelle vague icon Jean-Luc Godard, programmed together with a sketch for the director’s final, unfinished film.

Title card from "phony wars trailer of a film that will never exist" (2023)

COMMENTS: There have been a number of director retrospective documentaries lately: Dario Argento Panico (2023), Werner Herzog: Radical Dreamer (2022), Satoshi Kon: The Illusionist (2020). These affairs are typically hagiographies wherein talking heads (usually other directors) sit around complimenting their comrades. Godard Cinema, originally made for French television, digs a bit deeper into its subject, and isn’t afraid to expose a few of Godard’s warts (his habit of literally stealing to finance his early films, his troubled relationship with first wife , his “inexplicable” decision to go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao). If there is an ongoing theme to Leuthy’s portrait, it’s Godard’s ultimate unknowability: early on, he observes that there are no known boyhood pictures of young Jean-Luc. Although, by the end, we understand why this free spirit did not quite fit in with his bourgeois family, the absence of much childhood biography reinforces the idea of Godard as a sui generis being who arises spontaneously in response to his time in cinema history.

If there’s one complaint here, it’s that, as an examination of a man’s life, the the pacing feels wonky. You may find yourself wondering how the doc is going to fit in the majority of Godard’s five-decade career when it’s already at the midpoint, and they’re not even through 1967. They aren’t; the doc rushes through the final 45 years of Godard’s life, spending only about 15 minutes on the entirety of his output after 1985’s controversial comeback, Hail Mary. Godard Cinema follows the commonly-accepted dogma (which this writer also endorses) that Godard’s vital movies were all completed in his first eight years of filmmaking, and that his work falls off an ideological cliff after 1968. The front-loading makes sense if you consider the documentary as an essay on film history, but as a complete biography of Godard the man, it falls short. But perhaps that’s why it’s called Godard Cinema and not Godard.

The main selling point to Kino’s Godard Cinema release may not be the documentary itself, but the supplement: “Trailer of a Film That Will Never Exist: Phony Wars,” the auteur’s incomplete sketch for a final feature. The piece is a skeletal outline for a work that would be, by all appearances, a very loose adaptation of the novel “Faux Passeports” by Communist artist Charles Plisnier. What we get, mainly, are a series of photographic collages, with Godard’s enigmatic handwritten notes scrawled on some of them (e.g., one reads “it’s your business and not mine to reign over the absence of…” The next phrase is blotted out by magic marker). Much of it is silent; other segments are scored to dissonant classical music. There is almost a minute of actual film, studies of a young actress wandering around smoking, overdubbed with Godard giving some background on Plisnier; later on, we hear what seems to be a dialogue rehearsal, read in both French and Russian. It’s impossible to guess what the final film might have looked like—did Godard intend to flesh it out, using these stills as an outline, or was it always intended to be a longer version of the experimental abstraction we see onscreen? It’s hard to imagine anyone but the most dedicated Godard scholar watching this “trailer” more than once, but it is an interesting artifact, a peek into a master’s creative process, and therefore worth a gander.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“[Godard Cinema] provides an immersive exploration of his influence on both the celluloid world and broader cultural landscapes… TRAILER OF A FILM THAT WILL NEVER EXIST: PHONY WARS, the final work from Godard, emerges as a daring and inventive visual tapestry.”–Chris Jones, Overly Honest Reviews

Godard Cinema / Trailer of a Film That Will Never Exist: Phony Wars [Blu-ray]
  • An in-depth look at the career of revered French director Jean-Luc Godard
  • Includes Godard's final work, Trailer of a Film That Will Never Exist: Phony Wars

Celebrating the cinematically surreal, bizarre, cult, oddball, fantastique, strange, psychedelic, and the just plain WEIRD!