User reviews

The most eccentric gallery of artists embarks on a cruise ship named Gloria, distinguished members of the Opera world, sopranos, baritones, prima donnas but also musicians, comedians and politicians gathering together to pay their last tribute to the diva Edmuee Tueta whose ashes are to be dispersed on her native island of Erimo. She was revered and referred to as the greatest singer who ever lived. Given that music is perhaps the closest to perfection humanity ever got close to, the odyssey carries the dimension of a pilgrimage into the soul of a goddess-like figure who embodied the very perfection of music.

Now, who better than Fellini to design the partition of such an homage with his own instinct for cinematic poetry? And I don't use the word in vain, the Italian title of "This Ship Sails On" is "E La Nave Va" and I have a feeling that Fellini chose to set his movie on a ship just for the beauty of that title, the delightful harmony of this alliteration of 'l's and 'v's, suggesting a delicate and dream-like buoyancy, a sort of soul-escaping from a reality traced by the watermine ... this is certainly Fellini's best titled after "La Dolce Vita", and I wish I could like the film even better.

Now, was I disappointed? I'm not sure because that would imply a set of expectations while no one never really enter Fellini's movies with an idea of what's hidden behind these curtains... visually, musically or narratively... all you know is that this will be another show in form of a story or a story in place of a show, both navigating over the waves of the Maestro's inspiration... but that time, the line between show and show off was crossed like the Equator line, you don't see it but you can feel it when there's that little voice inside you that whispers to the Fellini fan you are that maybe, maybe the director is pulling our leg or underestimates the connection we would have with his boiling imagination. But even on that level "The Ship Sails On" doesn't exactly deliver...

The opening is a masterstroke, carrying the illusion of the early 1910s movies with the sepia tone, the fast motion and people occasionally looking at this oddity named camera like Chapin in "Kids Auto Race at Venice". Fellini brings a dimension of authenticity within the illusion of reality, he knows that's how people react when they see the camera, they look at it... why shouldn't they? And it's precisely because the camera is present that we accept the illusion of a documentary, allowing us to reveal the protagonists without any words, nor sounds, not even some musical accompaniment, only the typical noise of the whirring projector just before the sepia fades into full color.

But even them, actors break a golden rule by staring at the camera as if Fellini couldn't resist the temptation to stalk his own protagonists a few minutes before finally tiptoeing backwards and let the story go, passing the torch to Freddie Jones who plays a foreign correspondant and the film's ringmaster introducing us to all the protagonists and then you realize that this is still a 'show'. Indeed, the showman disappears but we, the audience, are parts of the film. Sure we know 'realness' was never a requirement when you watch a Fellini film but this time, I was more perplexed than excited by the whole process as if I was reminded of Stanley Kramer's "Ship of Fools", a film that made an effort to introduce many characters at once but failing to connect them all into a rather tedious story.

The boat looked so real, the context of July 1914 made it clear that the plot would interfere with a certain war that started in Sarajevo and yet Fellini insists that his film would only be a fable, the incarnation of a vision from him or his writer Tonino Guerra. But no matter how rich and promising this vision was on the paper, it is restrained in the confinement of a big boat with people belonging to the European bourgeoisie and only a rhinoceros can bring that little touch of surrealism.

Freddie Jones is an entertaining fourth-wall breaker but it's a miracle if we hardly remember one name he introduces to, so the point of the long exposition is quickly lost. What remains are some more-or-less interesting bits of conversation: one about the color of voices for instance, then you have a series of little episodes involving a seagull intruding in the restaurant, a bunch of scientists playing music with glasses... two women admiring the sunset and saying it's so beautiful it looks fake, which would certainly inspire paragraphs of analysis from Fellini fans .... And in this patchwork of little vignettes, I failed to grab that magical line that would create the illusion of consistency within disjointment.

It's only when the Serbian party starts and everyone dance in a sort of fraternal communion that the film gets back on its feet and remind us that Fellini hasn't lost his touch and then things escalate with the threat of a German ship, allowing Fellini's inspiration to literally implode and provide us one of these moments of genuine and delightful chaos that built his legacy, it's within destruction that Fellini recovers his creative power and maybe the opening was way too slow, too civilized, too exhausting... I would suspend my disbelief anytime for a Fellini film but I can't pretend not to be a little confused and in that foggy journey, I wished a torchlight would show me the way for enjoyment.

Maybe I wished he could have one character to raise our interest, but there's no Mastroianni or Masina, no central character, only a director whose imagination is undeniable but sometimes he forgets that it takes a lot of imagination for the viewer to see greatness when clarity is lacking...

When younger, I was a Fellini obsessive - I adored the excess, the humour, the grotesquerie, the sympathetic comedie humaine, the audacious visuals, the beautiful, sad, lonely Marcello Mastroianni. For some reason I hadn't seen one of his pictures for a while, and while his astounding images remained inviolable in my mind's private cinema, the gradual, repeated decline of his critical status made me tread fearfully into this nautical drama.

It is clearly his worst film. It always threatens to break into a frenzied dance of the Id, like his best pictures, but never quite does. The acting is generally poor, the dubbing atrocious; the ideas seem to cancel each other out in an aimless mess. Fellini's style is more restrained than usual, with a greater, seemingly restricted, emphasis on content composition and montage. It is clearly the work of a jaded Maestro.

And yet it contains more life, wit and magic than most films this year, and, needless to say, it is less silly than Titanic. The story (a group of mourners carrying the body of a celebrated opera singer on a huge liner as World War I breaks out) is open to many allegorical interpretations (ship as nation, empire, class, art, life etc.), none of which quite fit. There is much play on images of moon (Claire de lune tinkles throughout), tides and sunsets - possibly as motifs of decline, but also of the ever-continuing circle that is its opposite, life?

The film's tone is ambivalent, nostalgic for an elegant age of art and beauty, yet coldly aware of its inhuman faults. This is epitomised by the trademark Fellini altar ego, a journalist/film narrator, who watches the mixture of tragedy and farce with an amused eye, yet desperately wants to belong, and share in its faded grandeur.

There are wonderful set-pieces, and graceful, Kubrickian camera movements. The narrative and characterisation is constantly splintered, mocking the desire of the passengers for order and rank. Imperial folly is angrily lampooned, culminating in a remarkable burlesque dogfight, stylised as a Verdi opera, yielding, in impotent terror, the Force of Destiny.

The classical music soundtrack initially seems bland and uninventive, but actually offers, once identified, a stunning, ironic commentary on the actions, pretensions, sadnesses and failures of the characters and the society they represent. The party scene with the Serbs is very moving - loaded with the mixture of anger and regret that constitute the film's heart.

The self-reflexivity does not patronise the audience for giving into illusion - the film's 'reality' is in question from the beginning. Film is shown not to be a modern weapon of the future (cinema as an art-form emerged at around the same time as the film was set), but merely a skip for the bricolage of Europe and the past. This pessimism, though, is not despairing - there is great beauty in loss.

first five minutes of `E La Nave Va` was what attracted me most from this movie (not meaning that the rest of it was not interesting). i thought that it should be a silent movie but then i realized that there were some inaudible voices coming from the background. then i asked myself whether there's a problem with the sound system or not. but just as i was thinking about this, voices started to be audible. and the black and white movie became coloured when the ashes were taken to the ship with ceremony. i guess the purpose of using black and white and silent cinema techniques before the ship scenes was to underline the fact that the important factor in the film was the ship itself. life without the ship was black and white (probably meaning boring and full of cliches). but when we enter the world inside the ship (or when we enter the world through Fellini's eyes), we see that there are lots of differences from reality. and that makes the ship coloured! Fellini had created so many symbols including the rhinoceros and the ship itself. but these symbols are not so clearly defined so after watching the film, the audience leaves with some question marks. even if you are not interested in the plot, watch this for a good visual treat. Fellini has reminded me that the cinema is an art which underlines the importance of visual structure.

Conventional knowledge has it that the only film of Fellini's worth a damn after 8½ is Amarcord. Earlier this afternoon, I would have gladly agreed, but tonight I have discovered that this is a fallacy. I present to you And the Ship Sails On..., a film that is not only to be ranked alongside Fellini's permanent, almost unquestionable masterpieces, La Strada, Nights of Cabiria, La Dolce Vita, 8½, and Amarcord, but one to be ranked among the best works in cinema. Perhaps this is the most underrated film ever made by a true master, the man who literally was the first filmmaker to be called "auteur" by Andre Bazin in an article about Nights of Cabiria.

I would describe this film as a close relative of Amarcord's. The style of characterization is identical - instead of of a close character study, the sort of characterization most film lovers tend to like, the characters in these two films are drawn more broadly, with more attention paid to unique physical features and behavioral quirks. This is all in an attempt to have the audience identify the characters - or, more precisely, caricatures (before he made movies, Fellini worked as a caricaturist on the streets of Rome) - in a stereotypical way. Take Titta's parents from Amarcord - they're whom we might draw if we were asked to draw bickering parents. Take the Duke from And the Ship Sails On - could you imagine a teenage, Teutonic duke any other way than Fellini presents him? You could also take it the other way - when you see this odd fellow on screen, do you have any doubt that he is Germanic royalty? The visual style is also similar to Amarcord's - that one was painted with cartoonish colors. And the Ship Sails On is also very colorful, but the palette is more specified here - a beautiful canvas of blue-grays and whites.

The narrative styles of the two films differ quite a bit, but still are similar. Amarcord taps the vein of nostalgia - perhaps the most untapped of human emotions - for its affect. And the Ship Sails On seems to be going for absurdist, surreal satire. It's a genre that is more or less dead in the world of cinema, which is why, I assume, this film was such a bomb in 1984 and is relatively unknown today. Why satirize the aristocracy of the WWI era anyhow? That's a good question, but one that is not difficult to answer. I don't believe that Fellini meant the film as any kind of biting satire. It's all done in fun, although the juxtaposition of the rich with the Serbian refugees, whom the ship's crew finds afloat on sinking rafts one night, does ring with a certain painful and ironic truth about how the rich see the poor. Still, even though we might scoff at the way the aristocrats try to trace the roots of Serbian dances back to ancient times, the scene immediately following it, where those aristocrats go down on the deck to dance with the Serbians, is very entertaining and beautiful. The music in that scene, in fact, the music throughout the entire film, made me want to clap and dance. The actors move rhythmically as they progress through the film. I also have to add that Fellini never made a funnier film, at least of the ones I've seen, which are a majority of them (Toby Dammit of the omnibus film Spirits of the Dead comes very close).

Most of this film's greatness lies in individual scenes, and thus, as you might guess, the sum is not exactly equal to the parts - at least as far as I saw, there's no real point - the substance is thin. But when style is this beautiful, I say screw substance. Each individual scene ranks among the best ever put to film - the wine glass concert, the scene where sunlight brightens one half of the ship and moonlight the other, the boiler room scene where the great opera singers compete vocally in order to impress the sailors below, the interview with the duke, and the opera singer's funeral. Each scene is so exquisitely created by Fellini and every other artist involved that it is entirely forgiveable if the audience remembers those individual images rather than an overall effect. For me, the combination did have an overall effect: I was so awestruck that I was weeping, though there was nothing onscreen to weep at. 10/10.

A glittering gem of a movie that I feel deserves more attention in Fellini's canon. The motif of the ending of an era and the films positioning near the end of his career make for a particularly poignant expression. I think it is a tendency for most artist's to be seen to be at the height of their power somewhere in mid-life. Although Fellini's most challenging and provocative work preceded And the ship sails on, I can't say any are more poetic than it. It's rich sentimentality beautifully positions individual stories within the tapesty of larger world events oblivious to these characters. This film is also worth seeing if only for the stunning visuals, and the glorious music!

There is no mistaking a Fellini film, even when you only catch the last 30 minutes, as I did when channel surfing. I made an effort to catch the full film next time it was shown, and was rewarded with a stunning feast. Not one of Fellini's best (or worst excesses) depending on your opinion of Fellini, but images that will stay with me for many years. Like Ken Russell, Fellini can always be depended on to go way over the top and never do anything by halves.

The story of a group of rich aristocrats, opera singers, hangers on and just plain rich accompanying the body of a great opera singer to her cremation on the island of her birth in 1914, is shown in Fellini's stylised fashion as an allegory on the decline of Europe in WWI. The opulent excess of the doomed rich lifestyle, which no matter how hard they tried, was never regained, contrasts with the workers slaving in order to enable the rich to enjoy that elegant privileged lifestyle. The scene where the passengers tour the boiler rooms, standing on a cat walk to look down on the stokers shovelling coal into the boilers and trilling arias while the stokers took off their caps to show respect, made me hope the catwalk would collapse and plunge the passengers into the furnace.

The stylistic storytelling reminded me of "Oh what a lovely War" Joan Littlewood's depiction of WWI as a series of songs and dances by a seaside concert party. If you want reality, you can look out of the window every day and see reality. Sometimes a surrealist view puts a different window on things. The stupendous finale of the movie is enough to make the film worthwhile if nothing else.

This is one of the final films ever directed by Federico Fellini, and as late-period films from acclaimed directors sometimes are, this one feels a bit self-indulgent. Self-indulgence can be a good or bad thing when it comes to movies. Sometimes it results in a film that feels filled to the brim with stuff going on, emotions to feel, and sights to look at, meaning you never get bored. Other times, self-indulgence makes a film feel bloated and even a bit flat. At a point, And the Ship Sails On starts to feel kind of bloated.

It follows a bunch of people who go on a ship in 1914 to spread the ashes of a famous opera singer at sea. Eventually, the captain finds some refugees and is compelled to save them. Then complications ensue from the fact there are two different groups/classes of people on board a large ship that suddenly feels much smaller.

It does feel like Fellini is unchecked here, resulting in a few scenes going on for what feels like a bit too long. It might just be a me thing, but there have been a number of 2+ hour movies I've watched recently that I wished were even just 10-15 minutes shorter. I could same the same about a movie I watched right before this: 1972's The Cowboys.

And the Ship Sails On has some creative ideas and most of it is interesting, but its pacing and length (even if it only felt a little too long) held it back for me. I think it's a perfectly decent film, being presented well and with a solid story, but I couldn't get super into it.

"E la nave va" is one of the best films made by Fellini, which I see as the best film director ever. Just two personal comments about it. First, I have seen it in 1985, when in Romania a dark dictatorship saved hard currency by preventing foreign films to be imported. It was presented during a festival arranged by the Italian Embassy. Combine the local cultural desert and the post-modern style of this film and you'll understand why, after the film ended, I wanted to have just a walk-on part on it. My wife just proposed to pay the projectionist to run it again. The second comment is about a strange premonition Fellini had about the conflict in Serbia/Yougoslavia. Each time I see "E la nave va", I'm deeply moved about the ending, masterly contrasting bold opera music and the vanishing of a certain Europe.

There is a roll of directors of whom one must claim to be an encomiast, if one wants to be held as an intelligent, sensitive person. Regardless of one's inner and uncontrollable reactions to their work, the mandatory comments as the credits go by are "what a masterpiece!", "best Italian director ever!", "delightful and subtle!" and the like -- well, unless there is no one around. Thus, let us leave the unqualified praise to the wannabe intellectuals and talk sincerely about this one.

"And the ship sails'" famous opening sequence may look interesting when you hear of it, with its silence and sepia colors ushering you into 1914, but watching its lousy sketches amid Italian proverbial disorder is not exactly thrilling. After the first metalinguistic appearance of the journalist Orlando and a short singing by the passengers, they go aboard, the ships leaves port, and the movie actually begins.

The music is splendid, and the scenery and the costumes do not fall short of it. A scent of affection and artificiality pervades the whole movie, but that is quite inevitable with all that opera singing. To my surprise, the meta-linguistics represented in the journalist's character does not hamper the natural flow of the sequences. On the contrary, his peaceful nature sets a welcome contrast with the austerity around him.

A real contrast, though, only takes place as the Serbians refugees are sheltered on the ship. Not that it is thoroughly explored by Fellini. Truth is, surprisingly as it may seem, he never abandons a rather superficial display of the relations that develop above the sea, both of the passengers between one another and between them and the Serbians. Sociology is not to be found here; beauty and pureness is what this movie is about.

Fellini's worst film? What nonsense! If you want that "Satyricon" is waiting for you. Antonioni has called this one of his favorite Fellini films and after seeing it myself, I knew he didn't make that judgment rashly. "And the Ship Sails On" is a thoroughly 'modern' film and one of the maestro's best--certainly as good as "Amarcord," and probably better. It is less crudely silly and linear than "Amarcord" and harder to understand for anyone not intersted in progressive cinema, much more ambiguous, flexible and prone to take risks. To even breath the climate of opinion which deigns to compare this ambitious masterwork to an overblown piece of commercial fluff like 'Titanic' is nauseating. The fact that both films happen to take place on the deck of a ship is their only similarity and the 'message' of Titanic has absolutely nothing do with what Fellini was trying to say. Fellini doesn't make 'allegories' of society; at his best, he makes 'allegories' of 'allegories.' His sense of humor goes deep enough to include ridicule of people who take allegories too seriously within his allegories, hence his true artistry. And those kinds of people, obviously, sense that the joke is on them, and don't particulary like this film. The level on which Fellini succeeds is invisible to them, outside their conditioning. And often they claim to be bored just to cop-out on having to examine themselves and their ingrained ways of thought and judgment too closely. In fact, you could write a whole book analyzing "And the Ship Sails On" solely on its deep artistic value and another on all the great things in this film that certain 'cultured' people don't get because of their particular brand of 'high-brow' conditioning.

"And the Ship Sails On" is a PURE film, folks, one of the few amidst an ocean of endless mediocrity; and that is the hardest thing to achieve when trying to integrate as many elements as Fellini tries for (he himself has failed many times precisely because he was seeking purity within excess and got lost). He tried for it all and got the balance right this time. It is both satirical and deeply serious, excessive and understated. It is a totally stylized non-sentimental 'sentimental' work in the best sense. It works on many levels and transcends petty criticism from anyone too busy making mountains out of the latest flashy molehill that caters directly to their tastes. This film isn't traditional cinema, it is progressive all right, but it will be ready for you as soon as you're ready for it. Watch it for yourself with an open mind (whenever you're ready for it) and experience the power of art: it's worth more than you've been taught to think it is.

It seems odd for Fellini to have picked the Belle Epoque to be the subject of his satirical eye. Ending more than seventy years before And the Ship Sails On's production and ending six years before Fellini's birth, La Belle Epoque was a Franco-centric period marked by peace and cultural and technological advancements. It all came crashing down with the violence and bloodshed of World War I. And it's on this cruise from Italy to a small island, designed to honor the recently departed and greatest of opera singers Edmea Tetua, where the Belle Epoque meets the future.

The movie opens as a silent film with sepia toned images and a complete lack of soundtrack and bleeds slowly into color and sound. As the group of opera singers, managers, and critics climb aboard the Gloria N they all break into a song. The cast of characters is large, and we're not really supposed to identify with them individually though there are certain standouts. First and foremost is Orlando, a journalist who functions as a narrator, introducing characters and providing critique as we move through the film. The large opera singer Aureliano, a Russian basso who can hypnotize a hen to sleep with his voice, the jealous Ildebranda who wants the secret to Edmea's voice, and the Grand Duke, a young and fat Prussian royal, who make the most impact.

For several days these characters wander the ship, touring it with the captain, and speak of frivolous things while the recent outbreak of hostilities incited by the assassination of the Arch Duke Ferdinand gets barely a mention. There's a séance which a wealthy fan of the diva tries to ruin by appearing in her clothes as a ghost only to be found out and insulted. There's the trip to the boiler room where, high on a gangway removed from the grit of the work, the opera singers enter into an unofficial singing contest in order to entertain the grimy men below who make the boat go. There's also a rhinoceros being transported below deck that begins to stink up the entire ship and must be raised out and washed. All of this has implications of the people and their status in contemporary culture, with them far removed from the people that they speak of in abstract.

Much like the wrecking ball crashing into the practice space in Orchestra Rehearsal, everything changes when the boat picks up a large group of Serbian refugees in the middle of the night. The captain saw it as his duty, but the wealthy passengers firstly see it as an affront. They should not have to share their well paid space with nationless freeloaders, but the two groups end up connection through music. The Serbians play and dance, and the opera mavens playfully critique, provide history, and join in before the real world intervenes in the form of an Austro-Hungarian warship demanding the Serbs.

Like most late Fellini films, the overall point doesn't really materialize until the ending, but when it does it is rather stark. I think the movie is about the inefficacy and powerlessness of artists against real world forces. They are able to delay the delivery of the Serbs with the help of the Grand Duke, Edmea's reputation, and their overall mission, which the Austro-Hungarians honor, but once the ashes have been spread the Austro-Hungarians have not forgotten the Serbians. This is where Orlando, the journalist and critic, becomes the most important. He dreams of an alternate scenario where they stood strong and refused to hand over the refugees, but it's not the case. Instead, we watch as the Serbians line up into the boat to be transported to the warship, and all the opera singers can do is sing in defiance. The singing changes nothing, of course. The Serbians still go, but it all goes even worse when a Serbian terrorist amongst the group throws a primitive bomb into the warship, accidentally causing a cannon to fire, which hits the Italian vessel and sinks her (though, as Orlando explains, there are other interpretations of the events that include the Austro-Hungarians firing on purpose).

So, why did Fellini chose La Belle Epoque to satirize? Well, I think he saw it as a vessel for his criticism of contemporary artists and their relation to the world around them. Fellini was known for personal works that entertained. He didn't try to push the world one direction or another through his work because he realized no movie of his could directly influence world events, and yet it's a common goal that artists can share. The opera singing above the coal workers showed the artists removed from the real world, and their singing on deck as the Serbians get taken away showed them powerless when faced with tangible might. Their critique and intended instruction of Serbian dance to Serbians dancing showed them unknowledgeable of their limits when it comes to their textbook based intelligence.

The movie's production design, I think, helps to highlight this barrier. The boat was recreated on a soundstage at Cinecitta, like how Fellini had worked on every film since La Dolce Vita, but there's no effort to sell the space, especially above deck, as realistic. It's heavily theatrical with waves made of plastic, much like the plastic garbage bag waves in Fellini's Casanova, that are meant to highlight to artificiality of the characters' existence. We even get an extended shot towards the end of the movie as Fellini breaks the fourth wall and shows the movie's production that includes a look at the large gimbal that held up the set and allowed for it to tilt.

Overall, And the Ship Sails On is a good little movie made up of vignettes that drive the action forward. I do wish for a paring down of characters to provide a greater focus, but as it stands, the movie demonstrates Fellini's thematic intelligence and command of the physical elements of production.

Fellini accomplishes more in the first 15 minutes than many directors accomplish in a film. His ending (as always) is equally superb. Don't think I'm suggesting the middle is poor! Watch this instead of Titanic.

Federico Fellini had been one of the world's most renowned directors for decades by the '80s, and he wasn't about to stop. His "E la nave va" (alternately called "The Ship Sails On" or "And the Ship Sails On" in English) offers an analysis of Europe as World War I was starting. The class analysis is direct, with a bunch of aristocrats and celebrities aboard a vessel to scatter an opera singer's ashes, only to later intercept a boat of Serbian refugees.

Like Fellini's earlier "Satyricon", the movie - Italy's submission to the Academy Awards for 1983 - shows us a society declining due to its sheer decadence (also a theme in "Cabaret"). It's got Fellini's unmistakable style, with metaphors, character introduction and some bizarre occurrences. It just goes to show why he was one of the greatest directors of all time. I have no doubt that if he were still alive, he would still be making fine movies.

Fellini is for people who drink excessive amounts of coffee. (And if you're sitting there saying, "I drink coffee but not excessive amounts of it", you're deluding yourself.) Fellini is for people who would like to make the world a better place, but they don't know how, so they just avoid it and concern themselves with the absurdity of life. And drink more coffee.

When watching Fellini films I am infected with a violent desire to throw popcorn at the screen and quote Bruno Kirby from _When Harry Met Sally_ in the scene where he's frustrated at Sally's inability to convey her ideas while playing a game of Pictionary: "Draw SOMETHING resembling ANYTHING!!!"

This film is strange and beautiful- some of the scenes remain with me though I haven't seen it for 12 years. Most of all I recall the scene where the ship takes on a group of refugees somehow this funeral ship with its cargo of grieving operatic elite and exhausted stateless and utterly impoverished people becomes an image of great compassion and humanity and optimism even. I don't "understand" Fellini's films but I "felt" this one very passionately.

This film is a masterpiece. The characters are complex and a delight. Every camera angle, scene, dialogue are extraordinary. The music is aptly chosen and elucidates characters. One never knows what to expect next in this film. One will easily find themselves aboard this bizarre ship and part of the movie. I felt like I returned to 1914 while watching this film. It is very rare that a time in the past comes calmly alive feeling like present time in a film. Hollywood uses special effects and computers to try to achieve this while Fellini uses complex simplicity and correct dialogues to achieve this. This film has haunted my very soul and will be one never forgotten.

Music and color, passion and lucidity, tragedy and comedy. Yes, all of them and some more are contained in this masterpiece! From the one of the most originals beginnings in the film history to some pure perfection moments, this movie does not disappoint. Bare in mind this is a FELINNI movie, so your `normal' perception of a movie should be altered to a more `felinnian' way… I have to say that this movie would stay in my memory long before those `Hollywood blockbuster' movies would be forgotten! There is one complain I have to make: the dubbing of some of the characters! I really don't know what Felinni had in mind, but sometimes is really annoying their pronunciation!! I give this movie 9 out 10!!! If you want food for your soul watch this one PLUS `Juliet of the spirits'!!!

At 1st view, I thought our sound didn't work on the DVD player, then so typical of Fellini, knowing this, he slowly adds little sound bites, then there is music and singing, then there is voice. Everyone on the ship is requested to be there by the dead opera singer's will to witness her ashes being blown at sea at her desired place 3 days sailing out. There is no point to this movie, a bunch of hodge podge scenes, each with their own uniqueness. But the sum doesn't add up, it is just vignettes (almost) on this crazy ship. It starts off in the dining room like a choreographed ballet. Everything is orderly, then as the days go on it is not so. Many scenes are hilarious, like the sing-off to the boiler room sweaty guys and the sweaty guys are really getting into it! Even to the point of singing and swaying to the music as if they would know opera! The concert of the glassware in the kitchen as the cooks are frantically preparing the meals was by far my favorite scene. Then there were refugees on the ship. Was Fellini privy to future conflict to happen in 10 years future? And a rhino in the ship's hold then needs a hose-down? Dis-jointed but yet like life, everyone has a story. The movie ends but you know everyone else's story doesn't. Great movie!

By all means it is not of Fellini's finest, Nights of Cabiria, La Dolce Vita, 8 1/2, Amarcord and La Strada involved and moved me more. However along with Ginger and Fred(my personal favourite of that particular part of Fellini's career), When the Ship Sails On it is one of Fellini's better later films after Amarcord. The visuals as to expect from Fellini are simply gorgeous in both photography and scenery. The music is both beautiful and quirky. While Fellini's direction is more restrained than usual, there is still the distinctive style that made his films so wonderful. The story has some nostalgia, some surrealistic beauty and some impish humour, all three of which blend superbly and are interesting individually. The sudden arrival of Balkan refugees does have an emotional impact. If there was a weak point it was the acting, Freddie Jones as always is excellent but the rest are uneven ranging from decent to poor. The dubbing also has moments of sloppiness. Overall, a fine film and while not one of my favourites of the later Fellinis it does stand out as one of the better ones. 9/10 Bethany Cox

There is a review that says 'Left me gasping for air' lol. If you are gonna watch it anytime after today i.e. Dec 2020 you will have enough air, don't worry. I think this film was great during its period, breaking the forth wall, jumping between narrative and story. little bit of the set and good sense of humour

Fellini as usual fills this film with bizarre imagery, cinematography like a painting, and carnival-house faces. The symbolism of a decaying Europe is drawn with rather broad strokes (the bloated smelly rhino as colonialism, the hungry at the windows of the rich), but it's worth watching just for the visuals. Oh yeah, the music's great too.

I agree with the person who said that the plot is of no consequence. We are here to watch a host of eccentric characters interact with one another. The story is of a deceased opera singer's ashes put on board an ocean liner so they may be scattered. On board are a host of singers, musicians, and some royalty--also, of course, the crew. A man interviews people while all kinds of action takes place on board. There is even a rhinoceros. Since this takes place before the first world war, the ship is approached by a battleship. They are to turn over Serbian refugees. The whole thing is hoot, a visual delight that shows more of Fellini's amazing use of faces.

Federico Fellini might be the most talented genius when it comes to how to end a film; almost every single work of his I have seen finishes with an emotional conclusion accompanied by a great picture. And the Ship Sails On is no exception: the splendid ending sequence shows a separation, a romance, a catastrophe accompanied by overly expressive operatic music, an inserted picture of the studio where the film was made, and a humor in the closing shot.

Despite the great ending, however, overall the film looks dated--more precisely, it might have already appeared to be dated in 1983, when it was released. Towards the twilight of his film-making career, Fellini might have reached an area of his own too unique aesthetics; consequently, his works might not have been synchronized with the era (though I admit this statement may be biased with my knowledge in the American 80s).