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1:10  3:50  8:00

Final Day - Thursday, February 25


Directed by Federico Fellini

Starring Marcello Mastroianni

(1980) Commuter’s Nightmare? Marcello Mastroianni’s mild-mannered Snàporaz awakens on a train in time for a quickie in the bathroom, then, at an unscheduled stop, gets off to an entire world populated almost solely by women, complete with a feminist convention debating polyandry (look it up); angry roller-skaters practicing their testicle kicks (on a dummy); an all-girl punk rock band; and a male hide-out where wall photos commemorate Ettore Manni’s 10,000 conquests -- and is then shepherded by a scantily-clad double act that alternately rescues and dances with him; before sliding down a toboggan to a court judging his masculinity. Since the 60s, Fellini had wanted to make a film “about women only” - confronting here the dilemma of a well-intentioned but horny male engulfed in feminism – but was it all a dream? DCP. Approx. 139 mins.



– Paul Laster, Observer

– Vincent Canby, The New York Times

“A BEDAZZLING COLLECTION OF IMAGES!  A graceful and fluid celebration of pure filmmaking skill!”
– Roger Ebert

“As Snàporaz (a discreetly ageing Mastroianni, still the alter egoist and flattering mirror image of his director) dozes off in a train to be whisked through a nightmare of ultra-militant feminism, here we are again on that familiar gaudy treadmill of Barnum and ballet, circus and comic strip. Yet if much of it verges on self-parody, a few of the set pieces are superb (the Women's Lib congress, every word of which, swears Fellini, was taken verbatim from feminist literature; the homage to the communal masturbatorium the cinema used to be). In his martyrdom, Snàporaz becomes hardly less poignant a creation than Ophüls' Lola Montès; and only a pinchpenny soul could denigrate the generosity, the sheer fertility of the Maestro's invention in this curate's egg by Fabergé.”
– Gilbert Adair, Time Out (London)

“A dazzling visual display that is part burlesque, part satire, part Folies Bergère and all cinema… Mastroianni has never been better than he is here as the now well-seasoned Fellini surrogate figure. It's a supremely accomplished performance, modest and grand, broadly comic at times, even touching in its details… Mr. Fellini's licentiousness suggests a profound longing for some kind of protective discipline, if not complete chastity. As such discipline would destroy Snàporaz, it would make impossible the conception and production of a film so wonderfully uninhibited.”
– Vincent Canby, The New York Times

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