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Synopsis
Marcello Mastroianni plays Guido Anselmi, a director whose new project is collapsing around him, along with his life. One of the greatest films about film ever made, Federico Fellini’s 8½ turns one man’s artistic crisis into a grand epic of the cinema. An early working title for 8½ was The Beautiful Confusion, and Fellini’s masterpiece is exactly that: a shimmering dream, a circus, and a magic act. Also featured is Fellini’s rarely seen first film for television, Fellini: A Director’s Notebook (1969). Produced by Peter Goldfarb, this “imagined documentary” of Fellini on Fellini is a kaleidoscope of unfinished projects, all of which provide a fascinating and candid window into the director’s unique creative process.
Picture 10/10
Federico Fellini’s seminal film 8½ receives a new 4K UHD from The Criterion Collection, presented in the aspect ratio of 1.85:1 on a triple-layer disc. The 10-bit SDR, 2160p/24hz ultra high-definition presentation is sourced from the same 4K restoration Criterion used for the Blu-ray found in their Essential Fellini box set, which was taken from a scan of the 35mm original camera negative. Criterion also includes a standard dual-layer Blu-ray featuring all of the release’s features and a 1080p presentation of the film. The disc replicates Criterion’s Blu-ray release from 2010, not the one from the box set, and uses the older restoration.
Criterion’s handling of 8½ through the years, from their original DVD edition through to this 4K edition, could almost be considered a historical document on the progress of film restoration and home video technology through the years, with each release offering an incremental improvement over the previous. Criterion’s original 2010 Blu-ray (which used the same high-def restoration from the 2003 standard-definition DVD) was perfectly acceptable for its time and still holds up as a serviceable presentation, but like so many high-def releases from the period, its age is evident. The contrast range is limited, resulting in a flatter grayscale, while highlights often appear clipped and shadow detail appears weak. Grain structure feels clunky, and compression artifacts creep in, detracting from the overall filmic appearance. Though functional, the master has not aged gracefully.
The 2020 Blu-ray from Criterion’s Essential Fellini box set marked a very notable leap forward. Sourced from a new 4K restoration of the original camera negative, it delivered a cleaner, more natural look. Grain was finer and better resolved, grayscale and contrast expanded significantly, and highlights preserved more detail without clipping. The digital encode was not perfect, with some room for improvement, but the presentation carried a strikingly film-like texture, making it (for me) the definitive high-def edition of the film up to that point.
This new 4K UHD edition builds on that presentation and offers further refinement. While the absence of HDR might disappoint some, the 10-bit SDR presentation remains remarkable. The grayscale range is impressively wide, with deep blacks and bright whites, and transitions across grayscales appear incredibly smooth. Shadow detail is superb, revealing nuances in darker scenes without sacrificing depth. The encode is notably cleaner than in prior editions, rendering film grain and fine details perfectly. Despite some minor blemishes from the source material, the meticulous cleanup effort ensures these are still far less intrusive than the 2010 Blu-ray. Highlights are handled beautifully, retaining finer details, and the overall presentation delivers a richer, more film-like quality than any previous release.
For fans of the film (and Fellini in general), this 4K edition stands as the most definitive and faithful home presentation of 8½ to date, retaining all the positives that the 2020 release delivered while further cleaning things up. It looks spectacular.
Audio 7/10
The 4K edition sounds to use the same lossless PCM mono soundtrack the box set presentation used, and it still sounds quite good for the film’s age. Nino Rota’s score still comes off as rather lively and dynamic, with an impressive range that feels to escape its monoaural origins. Dialogue is similarly strong, with solid fidelity, though the inherent limitations of the film’s post-production process—where most, if not all, of the dialogue was looped—are still evident. This gives the audio a slightly detached, dubbed quality at times, with occasional mismatches between lips and spoken lines. But of course, these quirks are tied to the source and do not detract significantly from the overall experience. Otherwise, it’s still a solid presentation.
Extras 9/10
The 4K UHD release includes a standard Blu-ray disc, offering a 1080p presentation of the film and housing all the included features. However, it’s worth noting that this Blu-ray is the same as the one from Criterion’s 2010 standalone release of 8½. While the audio commentary is available on both the 4K disc and the Blu-ray, all other on-disc supplements are exclusive to the Blu-ray.
The audio commentary, featuring critic and Fellini associate Gideon Bachmann, NYU professor Antonio Monda, and excerpts from an audio essay by Bachmann read by actress Tanya Zaicon, remains a mixed bag. The track’s separate recordings for each participant can make it feel slightly disjointed, but the insights make it a worthwhile listen, particularly for newcomers to the film. Bachmann’s contribution is the highlight, offering engaging anecdotes about Fellini himself, while Zaicon’s readings, though full of intriguing analysis, suffer from a lack of energy and a very matter-of-fact Academic inflection. Monda provides additional context but feels overly scripted during his brief moments, dampening the impact of his contribution.
The remaining video supplements (all found on the Blu-ray) begin with an energetic 7-and-a-half-minute introduction by Terry Gilliam, part of Criterion’s short-lived Janus Films Introduction Series. Gilliam shares his passion for the film and its influence on his own work, particularly the opening dream sequence and the Saraghina scenes, offering an entertaining and insightful start to the features.
Next is Fellini: A Director’s Notebook, a 51-minute documentary directed by Fellini for NBC in 1969. While the content is excellent—offering a glimpse into Fellini’s reflections on filmmaking and his unfinished and upcoming projects—the presentation, which came from a newer restoration at the time, struggles with pumped contrast and brightness, occasionally washing out details, though it does make some sequences previously hard to see in other incarnations more visible. Despite the dated presentation, the documentary remains a fascinating, Felliniesque exploration of his creative process. Also included is a letter from Fellini to Peter Goldfarb detailing his intentions for the program, which remains a compelling read.
Another notable supplement that was previously exclusive to the previous Blu-ray releases (and not found on the DVD) is The Last Sequence, a 52-minute documentary exploring the film’s alternate ending, where Guido encounters all the women in his life aboard a train’s dining car. While no footage of the lost sequence exists (it was reportedly destroyed by Fellini), the documentary pieces together its legacy through recollections from cast and crew, along with photos and sound recordings. Though at times unfocused and somewhat laborious in its presentation, the feature is a fascinating addition, blending insights into the abandoned ending with broader reflections on Fellini’s work and creative process.
Next is Nino Rota: Between Cinema and Concert, a 47-minute documentary on the composer’s career, featuring interviews and music excerpts. While some clips are frustratingly replaced with stills, the documentary is still a valuable supplement. Interviews with Sandra Milo, Lina Wertmüller, and Vittorio Storaro round out the set, each offering unique insights. Milo, Fellini’s mistress and frequent collaborator, is delightfully candid and charming as she reflects on their relationship. Wertmüller recalls the chaos of working on 8½ with a calmer but equally engaging tone, while Storaro provides a more technical analysis of the film’s cinematography and lighting, praising Gianni di Venanzo’s work.
The disc also includes a 3-minute American trailer and two still galleries: one of photos by Gideon Bachmann and another of general production stills, the latter with interesting production notes.
While it’s nice to see all on-disc content has been ported over, disappointingly, Criterion has decided to drop the 28-page booklet that came with the 2010 Blu-ray and DVD editions and replace it with an insert featuring a new and lengthy essay by Stephanie Zacharek. While the essay is perfectly fine, covering the film from a number of angles, the booklet was a wonderful cap to the previous release, featuring essays by Tullio Kezich and Alexander Sesonske, along with excerpts from Fellini’s I, Fellini. While Zacharek’s essay adds an updated perspective, I don’t know why Criterion didn’t just include a booklet with the old content and then add Zacharek’s contribution as a new addition, something Arrow has done with their upgrades.
Despite that, it’s still a very comprehensive set of material, and all of the material is well worth going through.
Closing
Though it recycles material from Criterion's previous edition without offering anything new, Criterion's new 4K edition is a must-have thanks to the excellent new presentation.
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