Part autobiography, part history lesson, part three-ring circus, Federico Fellini’s love letter to the city of his youth is, as you’d expect, both brilliant and bonkers.
Without any discernible plot, vignettes flash past like passing cars; it’s akin to taking an open-top bus tour through The Eternal City with Mussolini, Caravaggio, Christ and a load of roller-skating nuns (whilst Fellini plays opera through the sound system and drives everyone around strip clubs).
Though not quite as essential as earlier masterpieces, Roma has grand-master visuals and overvaulting ambition that more than make up for the dizzying self-indulgence.
Sport & Auto
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