User Reviews

Gorgeous early Fellini, often considered the mid-point in his career, between the more obviously reflective, supposedly realistic early work, and the bleak extravaganzas that followed. But Fellini was never a neo-realist in the dull way Rossellini was: his use of landscape was always heavily symbolic or subjective. Here Cabiria lives in the middle of a bleak wasteland, which perhaps serves to figure the emptiness of her life, the sterility of life for women in macho Italy, or a comment on post-fascist Italy itself.

It doesn't really matter. The sentiments of the film are actually quite trite - women are treated badly in Italy, etc. What's riveting and astonishing is not the experiences of Everywoman, but the experiences of one particular woman. Although there is a great variety of locales, and Cabiria seems to be always moving forward, the film is actually a melodrama. Cabiria never escapes, whatever her adventures, wherever she goes, she always ends up where she started, at home. Even when she finally sells her home for a supposed new life, her last (in the film; we just know the circle will never be broken) mirrors her first in a depressing circularity.

Yet the film, for all its melancholy, is anything but depressing. Fellini is most famous for being an indulger of frail male egos, but CABIRIA's strength lies in its imaginative sympathy with its heroine. The film's structure mirrors her situation - the film has no plot as such, just an accumulative series of self-contained episodes which follow the same pattern: escape, hope, betrayal. In each episode, the further Cabiria moves away form her 'neo-realist' base, the more dream-like (verging on the fantastic) the film becomes, as if she is stepping into an enchanted world (this is made literal when she follows the actor into the nightclub, like some mythic warrior entering the dragon's lair). And each time she gives into the dream world, the illusion is rudely shattered - the scene at the hypnotist's is as heartbreaking as anything in CHIMES AT MIDNIGHT. So while the reality/illusion dichotomy is facile as an idea, it is extraordinarily powerful as cinema experienced through character.

Fellini's filming is as beautiful as anything in 50s cinema, that decade mirabilis: more restrained and grounded than later, with less obvious flourish, but the mixture of realism and dream is made all the more convincing with the gentle, coaxing camera movements, beguiling us as well as the heroine, but with the strange editing, and sometimes disruptive composition giving us a distance she can never have.

Giuletta Masina gives the most sublime performance by an actress in Italian cinema- an exuberant mixture of hope and resignation; her gorgeous big eyes not quite ready to give up yet, even at the end, although the submitting to the youthful racket seems as hopelessly bleak as 8 1/2. Her seemingly unprepossessing body is actually an instrument of unparalelled grace, and the comparisons with Chaplin are not unwarranted - when you see this performance you'll realise how unexpressive most actors' bodies are.

The Chaplin model is not always helpful - there is a mawkishness and emotional manipulation towards the climax that almost grates, but by then you so adore Cabiria, and so hate everybody else that thought doesn't really come into it (although doesn't it seem that many male viewers seem to prefer her as helpless). Throw in a lovely, playful Nino Rota score and you're in movie heaven.

What do I love most about Federico Fellini's wondrous THE NIGHTS OF CABIRIA?

I love the opening scenes when Cabiria (Giulietta Masina) is robbed and dumped in the Tiber River, and the bikinied Roman boys jump in to save her, but she is annoyed that they have saved her life because she wants to know what happened to Giorgio, who she thinks ran away because "he was scared." He's the one who had robbed and nearly drowned her.

I love the many nocturnal scenes around the Passeggiata Archeologica in Rome where the gargoylish prostitutes, like angelic gargoyle Cabiria herself, are selected by their customers approaching in cars, and the wild and saucy humor that accompanies those scenes, particularly when they deal with one elephantine hooker named "Bomba Atomica."

I love the scene at the religious shrine of Divina Amore, where everyone comes to vociferate their desired favors, and Cabiria pleads to be released from her life as a streetwalker, and the old lame man falls at the foot of the altar, unhealed. The intensity of the build-up, the virtuosic camera work, the faces of the pious, are all breathtaking.

I love the famed scene in the sleazy theatre where Cabiria, at the hands of an unscrupulous hypnotist, relives a tender and poignant scene from her youth in front of a crowd of louts.

I love the scenes in and around Cabiria's Ostia Road hovel, and the little boys who climb giant Jungle Jims and call out her name, and she waves back.

I love Cabiria's friend Wanda (Franca Marzi), whom she loves dearly. She is a million times less vulnerable that our heroine and takes Cabiria's rants with gracious generosity.

I love the scene of that night Cabiria spends in the luxurious villa of a movie star (Amedeo Nazzari.) She is totally out of her element, doesn't recognize lobster, cuddles a cute puppy as fragile as she is, butts her head against unseen doors.

I love the deity-kissed music of Nino Rota, lilting us, as it captures the soul of Fellini's lovely wife, Giulietta/Cabiria.

And I love the overwhelming and moving finale, when Cabiria is robbed by water once more, this time by a cruel scammer feigning love and for whom Cabiria was ready to start life anew. She rises from her anguish, and as she follows the road revelers, turns and smiles to us, to ME!…the most eloquent smile in Italian artistic creation since La Gioconda.

Smile at us, Cabiria, or are you Giulietta Masina smiling now? Or both of you at once? We truly need that smile.

I think there's just two reasons to make make this film the most beautiful thing I've ever seen on screen. I have yet to see a more beautiful movie. I'll explain below.

The first is the play of emotions. At first Cabiria is upset after falling in the water. Then she smiles and laughs. Then she's upset. This transformation of emotions makes you throughout the movie want to see her smile. And when she laughs you're in heaven. With her. This is one reason: transformation of emotions, and your wish for Cabiria to get to laugh.

The second thing that moved me with all my emotions was her reaction to sufferance. In her life she suffered before the movie (bad parents, prostitution, social status, poverty), throughout the movie (although her way of living rarely show you her sufferance in the movie, you feel she's very happy), and probably after the movie ends (again, bad future most likely). At the final part of the movie the pain is excruciating. She loses everything that connects her to the life (all her money & house), love (lover), social status (marriage) and some hope (in life and Virgin Mary). This is all in one scene. Actually, all she has left are her friends and possibly a suitcase. And then it happens: she's happy. In the very final part her reaction is: she yells, while crying, to the rubbing lover to kill her. She repeats this. And the final scene is a victory on life. Sure, her life was, is (oh, boy, what must her feelings be right now) and will be filled with pain. But he takes this reality, a certain fact, nothing's more concrete than this, and twists it: she's happy. In a face of tears, after a horrifying painful experience, she looks at the unsuspecting people around her that are joyful, happy, friendly, and takes their feeling: she smiles, almost laughing. There is no reality. The sufferance is beaten. Life has no hard touch on her. This is much more than hope. She is not wishing for a better future. She's living it now. Life is transformed with her final joy.

I have yet to see a better movie. It's the one movie for which: I registered on IMDb, I voted, I read all the comments, I wrote this comment. No second place. My current top movies: this movie and below this everything else. There's not another movie I would recommend to anyone older than 15.

Like Maria Falconetti in "The Passion of Joan of Arc", Meryl Streep in "Sophie's Choice" or Gena Rowlands in "A Woman Under the Influence", Guiletta Masina in "Nights of Cabiria" displayed, with a poignant authenticity, the courage to overcome the adversity underlining her vulnerable condition.

Coincidentally, like Gena Rowlands with John Cassavettes, Masina was directed by her husband, Federico Fellini. And I believe this is the key of intimacy that liberates the actress in front of the camera and allows her to express every single emotion with intensity, and no fear of being over-the-top, the man behind the camera takes care of everything. And "Intense" to describe Guiletta Masina's performance is an understatement, so is the very word "performance". Masina lives Cabiria, with an endearing generosity and universal appeal. Rarely have I felt so much empathy toward a character who happens to be a loud-mouth thirty something prostitute.

Cabiria is introduced as a joyful woman living a passionate romance with Giorgio, she kisses him, embraces him, then he suddenly steals her purse and pushes her into the river, where she nearly drowns before being saved by a group of young men. The opening scene is intriguing by its setting, an industrial area far away from the city, and the broad daylight, and its cheerful tone followed by a tragic twist, then an optimistic resolution. Basically, after a first viewing, you simply realize how the first minutes, in their tragicomic aspect; represent the movie in microcosm. But the emotional trap not to fall in is to consider Cabiria as a pathetic woman on which bad luck keep going on, Fellini's film is the chronicles of a series of misfortunes punctuated with optimistic statements about human nature, and it's up to the viewer, to Cabiria, to see the half-filled or half-empty glass.

Cabiria's surprisingly ungrateful reaction after she's rescued is another indication of her unique temperament. She trusts any bad intentioned smooth-talking Don Juan over any genuinely caring person. In the following scene, her best friend Wanda seems very concerned and friendly before being harshly dismissed. Cabiria has the sweetness and the temper of a child, and her tragedy is that she never displays the right reactions at the right time, making the general mood of the film fascinatingly unpredictable. Cabiria never misses an occasion to dance, with her unique charisma; she steals the show and creates an eccentric cheerful mood even inside the prostitute's circle. Her positive attitude is a personal way to rise herself above her condition. As she likes to remind everyone: she owns her house. She has an almost childish way to brag about the fact that she's not like any prostitute. Indeed, we never see her in activity, she embodies the condition of being a prostitute, disdained, insulted, taken advantage of, and her eternal suspicious attitude toward any sign of kindness is an unfortunate professional bias. Both tragic and comic, Cabiria reminded me of two classic movies notorious for having inspired Fellini.

Cabiria's appearance is almost comical, she's short but doesn't embarrass herself with high heels, instead she has these white socks worn with very unlikely sandals, and eyebrows a la Mickey Mouse. During the Mambo part, every eyes stare at her. She dances and moves a bit like Chaplin in "Modern Times", Cabiria is a sort of female clown with the right mix of pathos and burlesque, the Tramp with the umbrella as cane-like accessory. And when she gets in the beautiful house of the rich movie star, and he starts developing a fondness on her, we expect a disillusion to come, like the Tramp with the Rich Man in "City lights". Mickey Mouse or Charlie Chaplin, Cabiria is the female incarnation of the universally appealing figure of "little fellow who does his best" in a quite hostile world. The music of Nino Rota embodies the playful mood of Cabiria's misadventures until the sense of urgency in her quest of a new life started to remind of another masterpiece: De Sica's "Bicycle Thieves". Like the new bicycle changed Ricci's life, a new love would transform Cabiria, and the desperation growing deeper and stronger as indicated in that scene where she joins the pilgrims and asks the Virgin Mary to change her life, was a powerful reminiscence of Ricci visiting the Wise Woman.

This is the dilemma that inhabits "Nights of Cabiria", romantic or realistic. When after having been so mistreated during a magic show Cabiria was approached by the kind accountant Oscar, played by François Périer, I wanted her to keep her guard up. And as he seemed genuinely in love, convincing her after several meetings, to marry him, and leave everything for him, my heart pounded as I was expecting the worst to happen. And then came the climactic scene in the cliff when Cabiria understood Oscar's dark motives, just like Giorgio's, and she started sobbing, my heart literally melted. Cabiria is the quintessential romantic person, in the denial of the world's reality, and the pain in her heart, was her realization that the vision she always tries to reject was true. But she pulled herself together, started walking when a group of happy young people dancing and playing music formed a cheerful parade around her. This was the "City Lights"-like ending the movie needed: the ultimate triumph of the faith in human spirit. Cabiria is like reborn in this scene, her eyebrows are natural, her smile genuine, her wounds healed, as she feels in security again, hence her quick glance at Fellini, behind the camera, or was she simply thanking us, viewers, for loving her?

Kabir' means 'big' or 'powerful' in Arabic, and I wouldn't be surprised, if the name was a derivation from that Semitic epithet. Cabiria is a character defined by a personality that transcends the limits of her tiny little body. Size-wise, she's everything but Cabiria, street-wise, she has one hell of a big mouth and as a human being, her heart is simply gigantic

This is the first Fellini film I ever saw (and thank heavens I saw it on the big screen); I absolutely FELL IN LOVE with its now-legendary star Giulietta Masina (in the title role of Cabiria). Watching the movie, I wanted to shout to her to "watch out!" and to jump into the screen to take her away from the parasites who wanted to feed on her. So entranced was I by Masina's performance. Telling the surface plot is unnecessary here; the film's substance happens between the lines: Cabiria's emotional depth between the devastations, her perpetual longing for better and, despite it all, her indomitable happiness. It's the story of predators and prey (Cabiria), and it's a picture of the enduring human spirit. Only an actress of transcendent powers could pull off such a task, and Masina manages it beautifully. Look at the IMDb "Awards & Nominations" page for this film: in 1957 Masina won "Best Actress" at Cannes; in 1958 the film won the Oscar for "Best Foreign Language Film;" and in 1959 the film was nominated for a British Academy Award for "Best Film From Any Source." Three of the film's magical moments: 1) the "Hypnotist" scene. 2) After falling asleep atop a cliff where one of those "predators" had taken advantage of her, she awakes and the sea below this cliff is now covered by a misty shroud (you interpret what "being above the clouds" means). And 3) after a final personal devastation, she joins a small troupe of carefree youth in their singing and dancing as they walk the road. Joining them, her dirt-smudged and tear-swollen face regains its radiance and we feel happy that she's smiling again. But the real brilliance of this moment - one of the most affecting in all cinema - is when Cabiria glances briefly INTO THE LENS, smiles and nods AT *US* that she will be alright. Watching this movie that first time I was happy that she was smiling among these young troubadours, but not until she glanced, smiled and nodded directly TO ME did I feel released from my need to rescue and protect her, free to leave the theater and let her go on her own (without me). Personally, no other actress has ever been able to penetrate so completely to my emotional core. Brilliant director, brilliant actress. SEE THIS MOVIE.

While I used to hate the films of Fellini, I have recently seen several more and re-seen a few and have a greater appreciation for the director. In particular, I did not like LA STRADA the first time, but now think it is a wonderful film and his earlier "forgotten" films are exceptional. My particular favorite of all his films is the segment he did for BOCCACCIO 70--it was very surreal and hilarious. However, despite my increased appreciation, I STILL don't particularly like Le NOTTI di CABIRIA--though I liked it a little more the second time because at least I could see that it was technically well-made. However, the story itself of a prostitute who wants to be loved and cared for is unrelentingly awful and depressing--so much so that I never want to see it again. Part of this might be because I am more a romantic at heart and part of it is that I just feel the film is wildly overrated. Sure, Giulietta Masina did a fine job--she was a fine actress (as well as Fellini's wife), but this doesn't make the movie. The problem is that the movie is so unrelentingly realistic and grim. Sure, in real life prostitutes don't find love and are often abused--but do I really have to see this movie to know this?! The film starts with Masina getting beaten up and nearly killed by her "boyfriend" and the film ends much the same way. Everything else in between is leading us to believe that this inevitable ending might not occur, but it does. Now I am not saying I want a vacuous and insipid film about a prostitute with a heart of gold--after all, my review for PRETTY WOMAN was savage (I truly, truly hated that movie). But other than a grim lesson that life sucks, I really can't see why I would recommend this film. It's good, but not at all pleasant. For people that can stand all the emotional pain, you may like it a lot more than me--I just want something a little more uplifting and likable.

My lord, how they scream!! AHAHA I laughed so much with this movie!

Of course, it's a classic, but I don't think I'll see it many times, but on its way, it worth my time.

The character's naivety gets on nerves, but we know there are people like this in the world, and I can say, who never were naive in life? It could not be in the same outrageous levels of Cabiria, but anyway...

Well, the final scene is the best, it demonstrate how life really is. You are there, crying, during a terrible moment in your life, when something simple as a "hello" makes you smile again, and hope come back to your life.

Apart from Giulietta Massina's fine performance, I don't see why is this film considered so great. The fact that this movie starts and finishes in almost exactly the same way leaves much to be desired. I felt it like lack of imagination or ideas by the screenwriters and director. The main character stays always optimistic despite her harsh life, which makes her in a sense a feminine copy of De Sica's "Umberto D". Massina plays a prostitute named Cabiria, who lives in the outskirts of Rome. She is full of vitality and is a free spirit, but at the same time naive: love blinds her. Her lovers are after her only for the money she has, and this deeply affects her, though she always tries to fight for a better life. This films starts off fairly well, but then (as I've noticed in other Fellini works) becomes increasingly tedious. His films usually have 2 or 3 great scenes, but then again the rest leaves me cold. I also loathed the moralistic, preachy tone this movie has, which makes it quite schematic and unrealistic.