A man who belongs on Earth recently viewed 8 1/2, a 1963 film by Federico Fellini, starring Marcello Mastroianni and Claudia Cardinale, about a director of films, creating a portrayal of life as it pertains to a lifetime of relationships with women, and of his inability to love them, until meeting of the dream girl, played by Cardinale, who so much reminds me of me, and of whom the lead actor, the film director within the film, passionately loves. As my colleague, the man who belongs on Earth, articulated regarding the great infamous car scene which stole away my breath at viewing as a preview to the film, it is “a perfect scene from Fellini’s masterpiece 8 1/2, from near the end.” In this scene, the film director is electrified by the independent, pure, yet experienced girl. He comments, “This is how it starts. Then one day he meets the girl of the spring. She’s one of those girls that distributes the healing water, she’s beautiful, young and ancient, a child and a woman already, authentic and radiant. There’s no doubt that she’s his salvation. You’ll be dressed in white and your hair will be long.”
As stated, I relate to this girl’s character, to this scene, to the described fantasy of the film. It is a film within a film, just as I have always thought of my life as a masterpiece within a greater body of Earth, of the universe. The New York Times wrote a rather divine piece in 1963 upon release of the film, doing the film great justice. The arts section of The Times has always been quite nice. Give it a read, please, if you fancy learning more about the interesting plot. I shall highlight the section which truly stood out to me:
Now the fellow comes to in bed in a luxurious health-resort hotel, attended by truculent physicians, needled by a nurse (who asks if she may borrow his typewriter), and watched by a hawk-like little man who turns out to be a scriptwriter waiting to go to work with him. Reality is reestablished. We are among the living now.
But not for long. And, indeed, there is some question as to whether Mr. Fellini sees the old and antiquated people he parades at this health resort as actually living creatures. May not they, too, be dead and decayed, the relics and shells of a society that is struggling feebly and ironically to regain its health? – New York Times, 8 1/2 Movie Review, 1963.
Often, I think that I would make for a great socialist if all humans on Earth lived like I do, under my value system. If such were the case, other humans could be trusted to make decisions. Gravitating toward relationships and activities with limited humans, those who think exactly as I do, is my pattern. Why surround one’s self with opposition? Thank you to my colleague for recommending this film, or, I should say, for watching this film and thus creating interest in my brain because I find everything that he does to be interesting, because he is like me.
As far as the character of Claudia is concerned, she would be the yoga girl. The ideal of health. Her character reminds me of one practicing the first two limbs of Ashtanga yoga, not by intent, rather simply by existing morally on Earth. When one practices yoga and good living habits, one naturally falls into these categories, in my opinion:
- The Yamas: rules of moral code including ahimsa (non-violence), stay (truthfulness), astray (non-stealing), bramacharya (sexual restraint), and aparigraha (non-possessiveness).
- The Niyamas: rules of personal behaviour including saucha (purity), santosha (contentment), tapas (discipline or austerity), svadhyaya (spiritual studies), and Ishvara Pranidhana (constant devotion to God).
Thus, in my fancy tribute to this fantastic character of Claudia, I dressed in white, by Free People, practicing my version of art, my yoga, to tell a story, just as Fellini told the viewer a story with his art medium, with film, to inspire, to entertain, and to move one to think. What is my story? You must please keep reading.
To which character, in cinema, do you relate?
Have a very beautiful day. Namaste.