nv-11 At 1st view, I thought our sound didn't work on the DVD player, then so typical of Fellini, knowing this, he slowly adds little sound bites, then there is music and singing, then there is voice. Everyone on the ship is requested to be there by the dead opera singer's will to witness her ashes being blown at sea at her desired place 3 days sailing out. There is no point to this movie, a bunch of hodge podge scenes, each with their own uniqueness. But the sum doesn't add up, it is just vignettes (almost) on this crazy ship. It starts off in the dining room like a choreographed ballet. Everything is orderly, then as the days go on it is not so. Many scenes are hilarious, like the sing-off to the boiler room sweaty guys and the sweaty guys are really getting into it! Even to the point of singing and swaying to the music as if they would know opera! The concert of the glassware in the kitchen as the cooks are frantically preparing the meals was by far my favorite scene. Then there were refugees on the ship. Was Fellini privy to future conflict to happen in 10 years future? And a rhino in the ship's hold then needs a hose-down? Dis-jointed but yet like life, everyone has a story. The movie ends but you know everyone else's story doesn't. Great movie!

Rolf Lima There is a roll of directors of whom one must claim to be an encomiast, if one wants to be held as an intelligent, sensitive person. Regardless of one's inner and uncontrollable reactions to their work, the mandatory comments as the credits go by are "what a masterpiece!", "best Italian director ever!", "delightful and subtle!" and the like -- well, unless there is no one around. Thus, let us leave the unqualified praise to the wannabe intellectuals and talk sincerely about this one."And the ship sails'" famous opening sequence may look interesting when you hear of it, with its silence and sepia colors ushering you into 1914, but watching its lousy sketches amid Italian proverbial disorder is not exactly thrilling. After the first metalinguistic appearance of the journalist Orlando and a short singing by the passengers, they go aboard, the ships leaves port, and the movie actually begins.The music is splendid, and the scenery and the costumes do not fall short of it. A scent of affection and artificiality pervades the whole movie, but that is quite inevitable with all that opera singing. To my surprise, the meta-linguistics represented in the journalist's character does not hamper the natural flow of the sequences. On the contrary, his peaceful nature sets a welcome contrast with the austerity around him.A real contrast, though, only takes place as the Serbians refugees are sheltered on the ship. Not that it is thoroughly explored by Fellini. Truth is, surprisingly as it may seem, he never abandons a rather superficial display of the relations that develop above the sea, both of the passengers between one another and between them and the Serbians. Sociology is not to be found here; beauty and pureness is what this movie is about.

bojin-1 "E la nave va" is one of the best films made by Fellini, which I see as the best film director ever. Just two personal comments about it. First, I have seen it in 1985, when in Romania a dark dictatorship saved hard currency by preventing foreign films to be imported. It was presented during a festival arranged by the Italian Embassy. Combine the local cultural desert and the post-modern style of this film and you'll understand why, after the film ended, I wanted to have just a walk-on part on it. My wife just proposed to pay the projectionist to run it again. The second comment is about a strange premonition Fellini had about the conflict in Serbia/Yougoslavia. Each time I see "E la nave va", I'm deeply moved about the ending, masterly contrasting bold opera music and the vanishing of a certain Europe.

alice liddell When younger, I was a Fellini obsessive - I adored the excess, the humour, the grotesquerie, the sympathetic comedie humaine, the audacious visuals, the beautiful, sad, lonely Marcello Mastroianni. For some reason I hadn't seen one of his pictures for a while, and while his astounding images remained inviolable in my mind's private cinema, the gradual, repeated decline of his critical status made me tread fearfully into this nautical drama.It is clearly his worst film. It always threatens to break into a frenzied dance of the Id, like his best pictures, but never quite does. The acting is generally poor, the dubbing atrocious; the ideas seem to cancel each other out in an aimless mess. Fellini's style is more restrained than usual, with a greater, seemingly restricted, emphasis on content composition and montage. It is clearly the work of a jaded Maestro.And yet it contains more life, wit and magic than most films this year, and, needless to say, it is less silly than Titanic. The story (a group of mourners carrying the body of a celebrated opera singer on a huge liner as World War I breaks out) is open to many allegorical interpretations (ship as nation, empire, class, art, life etc.), none of which quite fit. There is much play on images of moon (Claire de lune tinkles throughout), tides and sunsets - possibly as motifs of decline, but also of the ever-continuing circle that is its opposite, life?The film's tone is ambivalent, nostalgic for an elegant age of art and beauty, yet coldly aware of its inhuman faults. This is epitomised by the trademark Fellini altar ego, a journalist/film narrator, who watches the mixture of tragedy and farce with an amused eye, yet desperately wants to belong, and share in its faded grandeur.There are wonderful set-pieces, and graceful, Kubrickian camera movements. The narrative and characterisation is constantly splintered, mocking the desire of the passengers for order and rank. Imperial folly is angrily lampooned, culminating in a remarkable burlesque dogfight, stylised as a Verdi opera, yielding, in impotent terror, the Force of Destiny.The classical music soundtrack initially seems bland and uninventive, but actually offers, once identified, a stunning, ironic commentary on the actions, pretensions, sadnesses and failures of the characters and the society they represent. The party scene with the Serbs is very moving - loaded with the mixture of anger and regret that constitute the film's heart.The self-reflexivity does not patronise the audience for giving into illusion - the film's 'reality' is in question from the beginning. Film is shown not to be a modern weapon of the future (cinema as an art-form emerged at around the same time as the film was set), but merely a skip for the bricolage of Europe and the past. This pessimism, though, is not despairing - there is great beauty in loss.