Federico Fellini was tired. By the time 1980 rolled around, the maestro of Italian cinema had already conquered the world with La Dolce Vita and 8½, but he found himself trapped in a changing cultural landscape that didn't quite know what to do with him anymore. That’s where City of Women Fellini comes in. It’s a loud, garish, confusing, and deeply personal fever dream that basically serves as a two-and-a-half-hour therapy session played out on a soundstage. Honestly, if you watch it today, it feels less like a movie and more like a manifesto of a man drowning in a sea of changing gender roles.
The film stars Marcello Mastroianni—Fellini’s cinematic alter ego—as Snàporaz. He’s a man who follows a mysterious woman off a train and ends up trapped in a surreal hotel hosting a feminist convention. What follows is a descent into a psychedelic underworld.
It’s messy.
Critics at the time, especially in the United States, weren't exactly kind. They saw it as a bloated, sexist relic of a bygone era. But to look at the film that way is to miss the point entirely. Fellini wasn't trying to make a documentary about feminism; he was documenting his own terror of it.
The Chaos of Cinecittà and the Death of a Friend
Making this movie was a nightmare. Production was famously halted when Ettore Manni, a close friend of Fellini who played the hyper-masculine character Dr. Sante Katzone, died from a gunshot wound during filming. It wasn't just a tragedy; it was a structural disaster for the narrative. Fellini had to rewrite and work around the loss of a key player, which probably contributed to the film’s disjointed, episodic feel.
You’ve got to remember that Fellini didn't use scripts in the traditional sense. He used "notes" and "feelings." He wanted to capture the subconscious. This isn't a movie you watch for the plot. You watch it for the textures—the way the light hits the plastic surfaces of the sets, or the sheer, overwhelming scale of the "City of Women" itself.
The "City" in the movie isn't a real place. It’s Studio 5 at Cinecittà. For Fellini, that studio was his womb, his home, and his church. He built a world there because the real world had become too unpredictable.
🔗 Read more: Shamea Morton and the Real Housewives of Atlanta: What Really Happened to Her Peach
Why Snàporaz is the Ultimate Fellini Protagonist
Marcello Mastroianni plays Snàporaz with a sort of weary, polite confusion that only he could pull off. He represents the "old world" man. He’s charming but fundamentally useless when confronted with a world that no longer views him as the protagonist of reality.
In one of the most famous sequences, Snàporaz wanders through a hallway where women are projecting films of their own lives. He’s a voyeur. He’s always watching, never fully participating. This reflects Fellini’s own admission that he didn't understand women—he only understood his projection of them.
Critics like Pauline Kael were brutal about this. They felt the movie was a repetitive loop of male fantasies and anxieties. And, well, they weren't wrong. But being "wrong" or "problematic" is exactly what makes the film a fascinatng historical artifact. It’s a snapshot of a 60-year-old director realizing his brand of Romanticism was becoming obsolete.
The Feminist Backlash and the 1980s Reality
When City of Women Fellini premiered at Cannes, the reception was chilly. The feminist movement of the late 70s didn't see a tribute; they saw a caricature.
Fellini portrayed the feminist convention as a chaotic, almost frightening circus. There are women practicing karate, women shouting manifestos through megaphones, and a general sense of "men are the enemy." To a modern viewer, these scenes feel like a satirical exaggeration, but back then, they were seen as a direct insult.
- The Katzone Compound: This is the most bizarre part of the film. Snàporaz finds refuge in the home of Dr. Sante Katzone, a man who has "conquered" ten thousand women and keeps a gallery of their photos that speak to him. It’s a grotesque parody of toxic masculinity.
- The Trial: Eventually, Snàporaz is put on trial by the women. He’s judged for his desires, his history, and his very existence.
- The Hot Air Balloon: The film ends with a literal escape—or a fall—depending on how you interpret the dream logic.
Honestly, the movie is a bit of a slog if you aren't prepared for the "Felliniesque" tropes. If you hate clowns, you’re going to have a bad time. Fellini loved clowns. He saw them as the ultimate expression of the human condition—pathetic, funny, and colorful all at once.
💡 You might also like: Who is Really in the Enola Holmes 2 Cast? A Look at the Faces Behind the Mystery
Visual Grandeur vs. Narrative Cohesion
Technically, the film is a masterpiece of art direction. Dante Ferretti, who later won Oscars for his work with Martin Scorsese, created sets that feel like they belong in a dream. There’s a scene involving a giant slide that represents the journey back to childhood, and it’s visually stunning.
But does the movie actually say anything?
It says that Federico Fellini was scared of aging. He was scared of a world where he couldn't just be the "Great Director" surrounded by adoring muses. The film is deeply vulnerable in its stupidity. He puts his worst impulses on screen for everyone to see.
You see, Fellini wasn't a cerebral director. He wasn't like Godard or Antonioni. He didn't want to make you think about Marxist theory. He wanted to make you feel the humid, sticky atmosphere of a dream you can't wake up from.
Modern Re-evaluations
In recent years, film historians have been a bit kinder to the movie. They see it now as a precursor to the "post-modern" messiness of directors like David Lynch. It’s a film that refuses to behave.
Take the sound design, for example. In the original Italian version, everything is dubbed. It gives the movie a disorienting, "uncanny valley" vibe. The voices don't always match the lips perfectly, which just adds to the sense that Snàporaz is trapped in a mental construct.
📖 Related: Priyanka Chopra Latest Movies: Why Her 2026 Slate Is Riskier Than You Think
Practical Insights for Watching City of Women
If you're going to dive into this three-hour odyssey, you need to change your mindset. Don't look for a story. Look for patterns.
- Watch it as a companion piece to 8½. If 8½ is about the creative process, City of Women is about the creative decline and the fear of social irrelevance.
- Pay attention to the music. Luis Bacalov (who did the music for the original Django) provides a score that is both whimsical and slightly menacing. It’s the glue holding the weird scenes together.
- Notice the recurring "mother" imagery. Like almost all of Fellini's work, there’s a deep-seated obsession with the maternal figure as both a source of comfort and a source of terror.
The film is currently available on various boutique Blu-ray labels like Cohen Media Group. They’ve done a 4K restoration that makes the colors pop in a way that wasn't possible on old VHS tapes. It looks incredible. The oranges and reds of the Katzone mansion are almost blinding.
City of Women Fellini remains a polarizing piece of art because it doesn't offer any easy answers. It doesn't apologize for its protagonist's flaws, and it doesn't pretend to understand the women it depicts. It’s an honest look at a dishonest man.
How to Approach This Film Today
If you want to truly appreciate what Fellini was doing, you should follow these steps:
- Read Fellini's Book of Dreams. He kept a diary of his dreams for years, filled with sketches. Many of the visuals in City of Women come directly from those pages.
- Research the 1970s Italian Feminist Movement. Understanding the real-world context of the "Movimento di Liberazione della Donna" helps explain why Fellini was so reactive in his storytelling.
- Focus on the Production Design. Instead of following the dialogue, watch the background. The sheer number of extras and the complexity of the moving sets are a testament to a type of filmmaking that literally doesn't exist anymore.
- Accept the Ambiguity. The ending isn't a "gotcha" moment. It’s a shrug. Acceptance of the fact that the dream is the only reality Snàporaz (and Fellini) has left.
Fellini’s "City" is a place where logic goes to die, but cinema comes to life in its most primal, chaotic form. It's not his best movie, but it might be his most revealing one.