I am a great fan of early Fellini, and as late as Amarcord I still find much to admire. After that, though, there seems to me to be an inexorable decline in originality. By the time we get to this film the decline is definitely in evidence throughout. Freshness has given way to trademark, vitality to predictability. Mastroianni is still there, as cool and enigmatic as ever, and some of the cinematography remains dazzling. But an air of staleness hangs over the whole film, which apart from its other defects is far too long. Fellini fanatics admire it, that much is obvious, and good luck to them. But most simple admirers will pass it by. It is worth adding that in the troubled and deeply unequal world we live in, Fellini's later obsession with the idle rich is looking increasingly frivolous. But maybe that's just me.

Big dream/nightmare vision of a man in late middle age (dapper hot daddy Marcello Mastroianni) about women, gender politics, and death.Midway through 'City of Women' we are introduced to one Dr. Katzone (literally 'Dr. Big-Dick'), representing the phallocratic, pig-man archetype. He drinks, he bullies, he shoots guns, he objectifies women. He lives in a castle comprising an assemblage of phallic symbols, wherein he has built a giant gallery/pantheon, where framed sexy pictures of his hundreds of 'conquests' light up and speak sexy talk when you push their respective buttons.Fellini cast tough-guy actor Ettore Manni as 'Dr. Big-Dick' -- reportedly to type: the character merely a slight exaggeration of the blustery actor. The Legend: the hyper-masculine Manni was in the habit of tucking a pistol in his pants. During the film shoot, Manni accidentally shot his genitals off and bled to death. Absolutely true? I like to believe it.Anyway, this is a helluva film -- hilarious, surreal, honest. Art director Giorgio Giovaninni deserves many medals.

La Città Delle Donne is not a grotesque film even though it is rightly considered by many as a crazy little tale of a hapless philanderer.In this film,Italian superstar Marcello Mastroianni appears as if he is more of a morbid widower than one of the resourceful male chauvinists who would do everything in order to prevent weak women from usurping power.Feelini freely talks about the never ending confusion of male female relationships especially in the context of transfer of power.He has made a film which will surely have problems in getting understood by all.It can be surmised that even regular,loyal Fellini fans will have problems trying to figure out the hidden message of this film. This is the sole reason why this film necessitates multiple viewing session in order to understand why so much noise was being made about it.The focus in this film is on what all women of the world can achieve if they have solidarity.This has been shown by showing strange ways of women.Men have been reduced to ignominy as there are few taker for them.A major portion of the film is devoted to feminists who have not achieved much over the years.Fellini has shown them as they are and have always been:making fools of themselves.This film is neither pro women nor anti men.It is quite simply a beautiful film for the people who cherish the art of cinema.

A few weeks ago, I posted a review of 8½, presently my undisputed Number 1 favourite movie. Still on the subject of Il Maestro, I've recently rewatched City of Women. This is another Fellini movie I'd watched many years ago, in my late teens, and didn't like at all back then. Well, I liked it (with reservations) this time. La città delle donne is one of the most robust, unrepressed and rough-around-the-edges explorations of the specifically Latin nature of machismo, feminism, gender rivalry and sexual politics I have ever seen. Many people don't like La città delle donne, but like 8½ and most Fellini movies of the later period it has an extraordinary, instinctive grasp of the rhythm and symbolic power of dreams. Its irritating aspect is coupled with and impossible to separate from the grasp it has upon the potency of what our psyche hides in among its hidden, ancestral folds - in this case, Marcello Mastroianni's character's but also our very own. This movie worms its way into your own psyche in time - as with other Fellini movies, it seems to reveal scenes that are totally new and surprising, yet strangely familiar to me even though I've never seen them before. As if I'd always been familiar with them, perhaps from a previous life - Fellini seems able to tap into a universal psychic blueprint of the soul, I think that's what it is - only a true Genius could do something like this. He gets to the emotional core of human experience, which means that even though I was never a young man who went to a brothel in 1930s Italy, as he has, there is something of the experience that I can relate to, as if it were universal. I guess the fact that things are rarely LITERALLY represented in his later movies (post-La Dolce Vita), also contributes towards this, making everything more symbolic and hence, universal.But Città delle donne is also a shrill, over-the-top movie, grating in some ways, ridiculous, dated in others. Character-wise, Marcello is probably at his most repulsive... or perhaps I should say pathetic. But the movie, though flawed and a rehash of some other familiar Fellini themes treated more successfully elsewhere, is also delightful in parts, with a power in the use of visual symbols that I have rarely seen before, even in his own, more overall successful movies. For instance, the whole sequence in Dr Xavier Katzone's grotesque house, especially the mausoleum-like tunnel containing what is essentially the "essence" of his numerous past conquests, as well as the scenes of Marcello floating on the very originally-shaped "hot air balloon", Marcello being chased by the drugged-up teenage girl bullies in their squeaky old jalopies, etc - all scenes I won't be forgetting in a hurry.If one really finds nothing to like in La città delle donne, it's ultimately still an important document on the gender battles that recent humanity has crossed. Perhaps Italy began these a decade or two later than, for instance, Northern European nations, but it got there eventually and in its own special, culturally individual way that can be compared to no other, since Italian men and women are not German or British or Swedish. Fellini pays tribute to that very Italian type of battle of the sexes here, stereotype-free but ever so evocatively. I have never delighted more in the never-obvious send-up of machismo as with this movie. This may be lost on non-Italian speakers but even the man's name, Katzone, is a phonetic rendering of the vulgar Italian word for... er... "big (male) genitals"! I give La città delle donne a 7½ out of 10 - I would have given it an 8 if it hadn't irritated me with its excesses in certain parts. Oh, what the hell - let's give it an 8/10!