Città delle donne, La (1980)

Director:

Federico Fellini

Writers:

Federico Fellini (screenplay)
Federico Fellini (story)

Release Date:

8 April 1981 (USA)

Genre:

Comedy | Drama

Plot:

A businessman finds himself trapped at a hotel and threatened by women en masse.

Plot Keywords:

Sea | Cult Director | Police | Female Nudity | Masturbation

Awards:

4 wins

Cast

Marcello Mastroianni	...	Snàporaz
Anna Prucnal	...	Elena
Bernice Stegers	...	Woman on train
Donatella Damiani	...	Donatella (Woman on roller skates)
Jole Silvani	...	Motorcyclist (as Iole Silvani)
Ettore Manni	...	Dr. Xavier Katzone
Fiammetta Baralla	...	Onlio
Hélène Calzarelli	...	Feminist (as Hélène G. Calzarelli)
Isabelle Canto da Maya		(as Isabelle Canto de Maya)
Catherine Carrel	...	Commandant
Stéphane Emilfork	...	Feminist
Marcello Di Falco	...	Slave
Silvana Fusacchia	...	Skater
Gabriella Giorgelli	...	Fishwoman of San Leo
Dominique Labourier	...	Feminist

Also Known As:

Cité des femmes, La (France)
City of Women (USA)

Runtime:

139 min

Country:

Italy | France

Language:

Italian

Color:

Color (Eastmancolor)

Aspect Ratio:

1.85 : 1

Sound Mix:

Mono

Certification:

Australia:M | Italy:VM14 | Argentina:13 | Finland:K-16 | UK:18 | USA:R | West Germany:18

Filming Locations:

Cinecittà Studios, Cinecittà, Rome, Lazio, Italy

Company:

Opera Film Produzione

Movie Connections:

Referenced in 8 ½ Women (1999)

Soundtrack:

Donna Addio

Fellini does feminism.

I'm not going to pretend that this is classic Fellini, or a masterpiece of Italian/European art-house cinema, but.....there's a lot going on in this movie that rewards a lengthy attention span. Mastroiani plays the archetypal middle-aged menopausal misogynist, the oldest swinger in town, calling women everything but women. Sows, mares, bitches, etc.

Fellini effortlessly sets him up for a long slow surreal fall from grace, deconstructing his fear of women in the process. It's a temporal culture clash, as stiff monochrome macho sexism meets technicolour badass feminism head on.

There's a few of Fellini's sublime production games going on in the background, most notably the orgasm orchestra that builds from the sono-portraits of Marcello's past lovers. The symbolism on display throughout is typically oblique, but it's effortlessly played for laughs in a way that few of his earlier films managed.

I've seen most of Fellini's output, from La Strada to Ginger and Fred, and for me this movie stands out along with those two as an accessible entry point into the satirical world view of one of Italy's most interesting directors.

It's certainly not a masterpiece, but it's definitely a wry look at the sexual mores of the day. And the cinematography ain't bad either.