The_Film_That_Changed_My_Life

8½
81
I was thinking about the one time I saw Fellini on an airplane. I was in
business class, and he was sitting up in first class. I walked by him five times
wanting to talk to him, but I was too shy to do it. It’s not something I’m
known for, shyness or reticence. I told people, and they couldn’t believe it.
It was the only time in my life that I wanted to talk to someone and was not
capable of doing it. I had just made a film called Always about the end of my
first marriage, and in 1983 I was cutting Always. It was a few years before he
died, and he was on the plane with Giulietta Masina. And I just wanted so
much to go up to him. I thought, “He’s not going to know my movies; what
am I going to say to him?” I remember thinking, this movie, I already had a
deal for it, and I knew it was going to play in Rome. I was already fantasizing
about him seeing this movie and telling me, “Yes, good.” It was a really
strange, strong regret I had when he died.
When I finished Venice/Venice I thought to myself, “This is going to be
a really hard movie to get an audience for because it messes around with
time and things, which I know audiences don’t like.” I also thought, “I really
would be completely proud to show this to Fellini.” I remember thinking
that. I was completely right; it was the hardest movie I had to get an audience
for. It’s my favorite of my movies. It most specifically captures my sense
of life—which I’m sure 8½ captured for Fellini, his sense of life. Just like Bob
Fosse in All That Jazz captured what his life was like.
What’s the proper way to see this film?
Jaglom: On the big screen. In your house, if you have a big screen.
With friends?
Jaglom: No, you should see this alone. This is going to sound pretentious,
especially in print, and I realize this, but there is a difference between movies
and films for me. This is a film. It can also be a movie, but a movie is
popular entertainment, which is fun to see with others or in an audience.
A film is something more like a painting—something you can absorb most
effectively by yourself in a dark room where light is pinpointed on it.