Fellini Federico

After watching Fellini’s films, I don’t really regain consciousness any earlier than two hours afterwards.

Once upon a time, the same impression was made by the first neo-realistic films. But when in a Fellini film, some crazy war-invalid trumpeter runs along a street so as to storm a dirty snowbank, when he sticks some semblance of a flag into that hill, and then plays a victory march – I get goosebumps all over.