After 8 or 9 unsuccessful attempts in the past, at long last I somehow managed to sit through & stay awake for the entirety of this unfathomable bore but at what personal cost. A towering feat of cinematic boredom that arguably has no equals, this avant-garde surrealist comedy-drama turned out to be exactly what I presumed it would be: too far up its own ass.
Co-written & directed by Federico Fellini, the story of 8½ concerns a famous filmmaker who no longer remembers the film he wanted to make. The idea came from Fellini's own creative block during production and through all the pain that he underwent, he decided to make a story that captures the similar frustrations so that the audience can suffer just as much as he did.
On a serious note though, the film does acquaint the viewers to an extent with the struggles of creating art and the personal sacrifices that the process demands. It's an exhibition of what a director's job actually looks like and how regardless of his professional & personal issues, he's expected to deliver. It is aimless & convoluted like the film within the film coz it is the film within the film.
Overall, 8½ is a tedious, overlong & self-indulgent exercise that left me indifferent to everything it had in store and while I see the brilliance of its metafictional construction, the drama remains an insufferable eyesore filled with characters as bland & uninteresting as they can get. And the dream sequences are even worse. In short, this film is nothing more than a mere tick mark on a checklist for me.
