Felliniesque

Unlike Mastroianni’s character, who is caught in a characteristically Felliniesque whirlwind of artistic ambition and sexual mania, Giménez Cacho’s Silverio is beset by the demands of fatherhood, the complexities of national identity and the hovering presence of death.

Atop this gleaming red structure is a veritable Felliniesque parade of bright, floating forms, perhaps a glimpse of the promise three dimensions held for the artist.

His most Felliniesque quality, though, may be his commitment to emotional anarchy.

In my journal, I described it as a Felliniesque spectacle: “Two thousand of us waited for the start, helicopters hovered overhead. With all the noise, I never heard the starter’s gun, but began running when everyone else did.”

I lingered in the East Texas sleaze of Sean Baker’s “Red Rocket,” the Felliniesque Naples of “The Hand of God” and the fanciful France of “Cyrano,” Joe Wright’s musical reinvention of the French romantic chestnut.