Fellini’s Fantastic TV Commercials

Last month we brought you some lit­tle-known soap com­mer­cials by Ing­mar Bergman. Today we present a series of lyri­cal tele­vi­sion adver­tise­ments made by the great Ital­ian film­mak­er Fed­eri­co Felli­ni dur­ing the final decade of his life.

In 1984, when he was 64 years old, Felli­ni agreed to make a minia­ture film fea­tur­ing Cam­pari, the famous Ital­ian apéri­tif. The result, Oh, che bel pae­sag­gio! (“Oh, what a beau­ti­ful land­scape!”), shown above, fea­tures a man and a woman seat­ed across from one anoth­er on a long-dis­tance train.

The man (played by Vic­tor Polet­ti) smiles, but the woman (Sil­via Dion­i­sio) averts her eyes, star­ing sul­len­ly out the win­dow and pick­ing up a remote con­trol to switch the scenery. She grows increas­ing­ly exas­per­at­ed as a sequence of desert and medieval land­scapes pass by. Still smil­ing, the man takes the remote con­trol, clicks it, and the beau­ti­ful Cam­po di Mira­coli (“Field of Mir­a­cles”) of Pisa appears in the win­dow, embell­ished by a tow­er­ing bot­tle of Cam­pari.

“In just one minute,” writes Tul­lio Kezich in Fed­eri­co Felli­ni: His Life and Work, “Felli­ni gives us a chap­ter of the sto­ry of the bat­tle between men and women, and makes ref­er­ence to the neu­ro­sis of TV, insin­u­ates that we’re dis­parag­ing the mirac­u­lous gifts of nature and his­to­ry, and offers the hope that there might be a screen that will bring the joy back. The lit­tle tale is as quick as a train and has a remark­ably light touch.”

Also in 1984, Felli­ni made a com­mer­cial titled Alta Soci­eta (“High Soci­ety”) for Bar­il­la riga­toni pas­ta (above). As with the Cam­pari com­mer­cial, Felli­ni wrote the script him­self and col­lab­o­rat­ed with cin­e­matog­ra­ph­er Ennio Guarnieri and musi­cal direc­tor Nico­la Pio­vani. The cou­ple in the restau­rant were played by Gre­ta Vaian and Mau­r­izio Mau­ri. The Bar­il­la spot is per­haps the least inspired of Fellini’s com­mer­cials. Bet­ter things were yet to come.

In 1991 Felli­ni made a series of three com­mer­cials for the Bank of Rome called Che Brutte Not­ti or “The Bad Nights.” “These com­mer­cials, aired the fol­low­ing year,” writes Peter Bon­danel­la in The Films of Fed­eri­co Felli­ni, “are par­tic­u­lar­ly inter­est­ing, since they find their inspi­ra­tion in var­i­ous dreams Felli­ni had sketched out in his dream note­books dur­ing his career.”

In the episode above, titled “The Pic­nic Lunch Dream,” the clas­sic damsel-in-dis­tress sce­nario is turned upside down when a man (played by Pao­lo Vil­lag­gio) finds him­self trapped on the rail­road tracks with a train bear­ing down on him while the beau­ti­ful woman he was din­ing with (Anna Falchi) climbs out of reach and taunts him. But it’s all a dream, which the man tells to his psy­cho­an­a­lyst (Fer­nan­do Rey). The ana­lyst inter­prets the dream and assures the man that his nights will be rest­ful if he puts his mon­ey in the Ban­co di Roma.

The oth­er com­mer­cials, which are cur­rent­ly not avail­able online, are called “The Tun­nel Dream” and “The Dream of the Lion in the Cel­lar.” (You can watch Rober­to Di Vito’s short, untrans­lat­ed film of Felli­ni and his crew work­ing on the project here.)

The bank com­mer­cials were the last films Felli­ni ever made. He died a year after they aired, at age 73. In Kezich’s view, the deeply per­son­al and imag­i­na­tive ads amount to Fellini’s last tes­ta­ment, a brief but won­drous return to form. “In Fed­eri­co’s life,” he writes, “these three com­mer­cial spots are a kind of Indi­an sum­mer, the gold­en autumn of a patri­arch of cin­e­ma who, for a moment, holds again the reins of cre­ation.”

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The Joy of Books

Last year, “crazedad­man” and his wife reor­ga­nized a small book­shelf and record­ed the project in an endear­ing stop motion film. This year, they took things to the next lev­el, spend­ing “sleep­less nights mov­ing, stack­ing, and ani­mat­ing books at Type book­store in Toron­to.”  The rest speaks for itself. Don’t miss oth­er videos for book lovers right below:

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Spike Jonze Presents a Stop Motion Film for Book Lovers

A Secret Book­store in New York City

Books Savored in a Lov­ing  Stop Motion Film

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Harvard Thinks Green: Big Ideas from 6 All-Star Environment Profs

On Decem­ber 8th, six “all-star envi­ron­men­tal pro­fes­sors” came togeth­er at an event called â€śHar­vard Thinks Green” and pre­sent­ed short, TED-style talks about the envi­ron­ment and strate­gies for revers­ing cli­mate change. The event start­ed with James McCarthy (Pro­fes­sor of Bio­log­i­cal Oceanog­ra­phy) ask­ing the ques­tion (see above), “Is it too late to avoid seri­ous impacts of cli­mate change?” A good ques­tion to ask giv­en that 2010 wit­nessed the biggest annu­al jump in glob­al car­bon emissions—5.9%. This set the stage for Richard Lazarus (Pro­fes­sor of Law) to dis­cuss ways that our polit­i­cal sys­tem could become more respon­sive to the cri­sis. (Did you know that Barack Oba­ma only men­tioned cli­mate change once in pub­lic last year? Just once?) And then Rebec­ca Hen­der­son (Co-Direc­tor of the Busi­ness and Envi­ron­ment Ini­tia­tive) tries to make the dif­fi­cult case that mon­ey-mak­ing and sav­ing the world can go hand-in-hand — that cap­i­tal­ism can become envi­ron­men­tal­ly sus­tain­able. You can watch the remain­ing talks online here, or on iTunes here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Har­vard Thinks Big 2010

Why is the U.S. F’ed Up? 8 Lec­tures from Occu­py Har­vard Teach-In Pro­vide Answers

Har­vard Presents Free Cours­es with the Open Learn­ing Ini­tia­tive

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Tim Burton’s The World of Stainboy: Watch the Complete Animated Series

In his 1997 book of draw­ings and verse, The Melan­choly Death of Oys­ter Boy & Oth­er Sto­ries, Tim Bur­ton imag­ines a bizarre menagerie of mis­fits with names like Tox­ic Boy, Junk Girl, the Pin Cush­ion Queen and the Boy with Nails in his Eyes.

“Inspired by such child­hood heroes as Dr. Seuss and Roald Dahl,” writes James Ryan in the New York Times, “Mr. Bur­ton’s slim vol­ume exquis­ite­ly con­veys the pain of an ado­les­cent out­sider. Like his movies, the work man­ages to be both child­like and sophis­ti­cat­ed, blend­ing the inno­cent with the macabre.”

One of those ado­les­cent out­siders is Stain Boy, a strange kind of super­hero:

He can’t fly around tall build­ings,
or out­run a speed­ing train,
the only tal­ent he seems to have
is to leave a nasty stain.

Some­times I know it both­ers him,
that he can’t run or swim or fly,
and because of this one abil­i­ty,
his dry clean­ing bill is sky-high.

In 2000, Bur­ton extend­ed Stain Boy’s adven­tures (and com­pressed his name into one word) with The World of Stain­boy, a series of short ani­ma­tions com­mis­sioned for the Inter­net by Shockwave.com. “For some sto­ries you have to wait for the right medi­um,” Bur­ton said at the time. “I think (the Inter­net’s) the per­fect forum to tell a sad lit­tle sto­ry like this one. Stain­boy is a char­ac­ter that does­n’t do much. He’s just per­fect for four-minute ani­ma­tions.”

Bur­ton cre­at­ed a series of sketch­es, water­col­ors and pas­tel-accent­ed gray-on-gray wash­es and brought them, along with a script and sto­ry­boards, to Flinch Stu­dio for trans­la­tion into Macro­me­dia Flash ani­ma­tion. Twen­ty-six episodes were planned, but only six were com­plet­ed. “Stain­boy was an exper­i­ment in devel­op­ing rev­enue streams for the Web,” writes Ali­son McMa­han in The Films of Tim Bur­ton: Ani­mat­ing Live Action in Con­tem­po­rary Hol­ly­wood, “but it did not suc­ceed, at least not finan­cial­ly.”

The Stain­boy char­ac­ter was res­ur­rect­ed briefly in late 2010, when Bur­ton invit­ed fans to com­pose a new Stain­boy adven­ture in brief install­ments via Twit­ter. Bur­ton pieced togeth­er a sto­ry using the best tweets. (You can read the final result here.) Mean­while, the orig­i­nal Web ani­ma­tions have con­tin­ued to attract a fol­low­ing. You can watch the com­plete six-part series below in HD. As you will see, some episodes intro­duce new char­ac­ters — Stare Girl, Tox­ic Boy, Bowl­ing Ball Head and the rest:

Episode 1: Stare Girl

Episode 2: Tox­ic Boy

Episode 3: Bowl­ing Ball Head

Episode 4: Robot Boy

Episode 5: Match­stick Girl

Episode 6: The Ori­gin of Stain­boy

You can find the Stain­boy videos on our list of Free Online Ani­ma­tions, a sub­set of our meta col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Vin­cent: Tim Burton’s Ear­ly Ani­mat­ed Film

Tim Bur­ton: A Look Inside His Visu­al Imag­i­na­tion

Harry Houdini’s Great Rope Escape (Circa 1920)

Har­ry Hou­di­ni (nĂ© Erik Weisz) emi­grat­ed from Hun­gary to the Unit­ed States as a young­ster, set­tling first in Wis­con­sin, then lat­er in New York City. Cap­ti­vat­ed by mag­ic from an ear­ly age, Hou­di­ni (1874–1926) began per­form­ing small-time mag­ic shows and exper­i­ment­ing with escape acts, even­tu­al­ly hon­ing his abil­i­ty to escape from hand­cuffs. Then he nev­er looked back:

Arriv­ing in a new town, Hou­di­ni would claim the abil­i­ty to escape from any hand­cuffs pro­vid­ed by the local police. His easy escapes pro­vid­ed excel­lent pub­lic­i­ty for his shows. Hou­di­ni offered $100 to any­one who pro­vid­ed hand­cuffs from which he could not escape, but he nev­er had to pay. Through his increas­ing­ly com­plex escapes and his shrewd use of pub­lic­i­ty, Hou­di­ni became a head­lin­er on the vaude­ville cir­cuit, play­ing in cities across the coun­try. Not sat­is­fied with that low lev­el of fame, how­ev­er, Hou­di­ni decid­ed to gam­ble by tak­ing his act to Europe.

When he returned from Europe, Hou­di­ni per­formed increas­ing­ly high-pro­file stunts — e.g., free­ing him­self from chains after jump­ing into Boston’s Charles Riv­er, escap­ing from a strait jack­et while hang­ing upside down in Times Square, break­ing out of a prison cell that held the assas­sin of Pres­i­dent James Garfield. Today, we have Hou­di­ni per­form­ing a more straight­for­ward escape — from a sim­ple chair and rope. Below, in an image appear­ing in Ladies’ Home Jour­nal (1918), Hou­di­ni tells you a lit­tle about how he made his great rope escape. He offers more details here. The video above was shot cir­ca 1920.

houdiniropes2

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Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Hou­di­ni Escape From a Strait Jack­et, Then See How He Did It (Cir­ca 1917)

Inven­tor of a Wear­able Para­chute Takes a Fly­ing Leap Off of the Eif­fel Tow­er in 1912, and It Doesn’t End Well

Dave Brubeck Gets an Uplifting Musical Surprise from a Young Violinist in Moscow (1997)

Decem­ber 2, 1997. Exact­ly ten years after his first vis­it to Moscow, jazz leg­end Dave Brubeck returned to per­form before the fac­ul­ty and stu­dents of the Moscow Con­ser­va­to­ry. Dur­ing his con­cert, an audi­ence mem­ber asked him to impro­vise on the old Russ­ian sea shan­ty “Ej, Uhnem.” About two min­utes into the impro­vi­sa­tion, a young vio­lin­ist rose from his seat and start­ed to play along. You just have to love Dav­e’s sur­prised look at 2:09.

This young man turned out to be a stu­dent at the con­ser­va­to­ry. His name is Denis Kolobov and he is now a vio­lin­ist of inter­na­tion­al renown. Denis must have mus­tered up all of his courage to cut into the per­for­mance of one of the great jazz pianists. But the day before, French jazz vio­lin­ist StĂ©phane Grap­pel­li had died in Paris and Denis decid­ed to hon­or Grap­pel­li’s mem­o­ry in this way. What a great idea!

By pro­fes­sion, Matthias Rasch­er teach­es Eng­lish and His­to­ry at a High School in north­ern Bavaria, Ger­many. In his free time he scours the web for good links and posts the best finds on Twit­ter.

Katharine Hepburn Rearranges the Furniture on The Dick Cavett Show

Ear­li­er this week, we brought you Audrey Hepburn’s Screen Test for Roman Hol­i­day (1953). Next up, we have Katharine Hep­burn appear­ing on the very 70s set of The Dick Cavett Show. In case you’re won­der­ing, the two Hep­burns were only dis­tant­ly relat­ed. Accord­ing to Salon, they shared one com­mon ances­tor, James Hep­burn, Earl of Both­well, the third hus­band of Mary, Queen of Scots.

Any­way, here’s the back­sto­ry on the Cavett inter­view that aired on Sep­tem­ber 14, 1973:

Hep­burn rarely grant­ed inter­views, and when she did, she want­ed them under her terms. When she agreed to appear on the Dick Cavett Show they went in the stu­dio a day ear­ly so she could get the feel of things. They end­ed up doing the inter­view right then and there, with­out an audi­ence.

Watch a clip of the actu­al inter­view here.

In the past, we have fea­tured Cavet­t’s inter­views with Ing­mar Bergman, Woody Allen, John Lennon & Yoko Ono, and George Har­ri­son. And don’t for­get this feud between Nor­man Mail­er and Gore Vidal. Through Ama­zon, you can also pur­chase high­lights of con­ver­sa­tions with Mar­lon Bran­do, Fred Astaire, Robert Mitchum, Orson Welles, Grou­cho Marx, Kirk Dou­glas, Bette Davis, and oth­ers. h/t Peter Kauf­man

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Watch A Brief History of Time, Errol Morris’ Film About the Life & Work of Stephen Hawking

Bril­liant but unmo­ti­vat­ed, Stephen Hawk­ing was a 21-year-old PhD stu­dent at Cam­bridge when he first noticed some­thing was wrong. He was falling down a lot, and drop­ping things. He went into the hos­pi­tal for tests, and learned he had amy­otroph­ic lat­er­al scle­ro­sis, or ALS. The doc­tors told him he would grad­u­al­ly lose con­trol of every mus­cle in his body.

“My dreams at that time were rather dis­turbed,” Hawk­ing said. “Before my con­di­tion had been diag­nosed, I had been very bored with life. There had not seemed to be any­thing worth doing. But short­ly after I came out of hos­pi­tal, I dreamt that I was going to be exe­cut­ed. I sud­den­ly real­ized that there were a lot of worth­while things I could do if I were reprieved.”

The doc­tors gave the young man two and a half years to live. That was in ear­ly 1963. Over the next half cen­tu­ry, Hawk­ing defied all odds and went on to become one of the most cel­e­brat­ed sci­en­tists of the era, mak­ing major con­tri­bu­tions to quan­tum cos­mol­o­gy and the under­stand­ing of black holes. Along the way, the wheel­chair-bound Hawk­ing became a cul­tur­al icon, a sym­bol of dis­em­bod­ied intel­lect and indomitable spir­it.

This com­ing Sun­day, 49 years after his grim diag­no­sis, Hawk­ing will turn 70. A sci­en­tif­ic con­fer­ence in his hon­or got under­way today at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Cam­bridge’s Cen­tre for The­o­ret­i­cal Cos­mol­o­gy, and will cul­mi­nate on Sun­day with a pub­lic sym­po­sium, “The State of the Uni­verse,” fea­tur­ing some of the world’s great­est astronomers and physi­cists, includ­ing Mar­tin Rees, Kip Thorne and Saul Perl­mut­ter. You can watch live stream­ing video of the events at the offi­cial web­site.

To help cel­e­brate, we present Errol Mor­ris’s 1992 film of A Brief His­to­ry of Time (above), Hawk­ing’s best­selling book.  Mor­ris weaves biog­ra­phy in with the sci­ence, inter­view­ing mem­bers of Hawk­ing’s family–his moth­er, sis­ter and aunt–along with friends and col­leagues, includ­ing Roger Pen­rose, Den­nis Scia­ma and John Archibald Wheel­er.

A Brief His­to­ry of Time was Mor­ris’s first film as a direc­tor-for-hire (he was recruit­ed by Steven Spiel­berg for Amblin Enter­tain­ment), which cre­at­ed some dif­fi­cul­ties, but Mor­ris was pleased with the out­come. He lat­er said, “It’s actu­al­ly one of the most beau­ti­ful films I ever shot.” The film won the Grand Jury Prize for Doc­u­men­tary Film­mak­ing and the Doc­u­men­tary Film­mak­er’s Tro­phy at the Sun­dance Film Fes­ti­val.

In 1992 Mor­ris told the New York Times Mag­a­zine that A Brief His­to­ry of Time was “less cere­bral and more mov­ing” than any­thing he had worked on before. “This feel­ing of time, of aging, of mor­tal­i­ty com­bined with this search for the most basic and deep ques­tions about the world around us and our­selves,” Mor­ris said, “is pret­ty per­sua­sive stuff.” Find it list­ed in our Free Movies Online col­lec­tion, with­in the Doc­u­men­tary sec­tion.

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