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Amarcord centers on Titta, an adolescent boy growing up among an eccentric cast of characters in the village of Borgo San Giuliano and social rituals, adolescent desires, male fantasies, and political subterfuge in 1930s Fascist Italy.
Federico Fellini's films beg to be seen on a movie screen. Their panoramic, overstuffed frames and larger-than-life characters overflow the boundaries of home theater; their exuberant, generous humor is best enjoyed in a packed auditorium.
Seen today, Amarcord is something of a disappointment, clever and moving in places, but also sprawling, undisciplined, clumsy in patches, and decidedly overlong.
Bloated, overblown and essentially empty, Fellini's last hit movie skims over the surface of the lives it depicts, substituting manufactured sentiment for genuine feeling or understanding.
Fellini's ability to compose a frame that oozes baroque drama and vitality is almost unparalleled and Amarcord more or less succeeded for me in evoking a time period through the eyes of a young boy...
Continues to resemble something a lewd, grouchy, fitfully indecent silent-movie director might have made for his first time using color and sound. That, at least, would explain the shouting.