Had I seen La Dolce Vita at an earlier age I would not have appreciated it the same way I do now. I’m sure I would have gotten caught up in the wild ride main character Marcello (Marcello Mastroianni) takes. The spiralling mix of booze, women, and empty pleasure, the endless nights of loud music boxing one’s ears, and the mumbling alcohol dreams of a blonde that couldn’t possibly exist. This all would have been delightful to the younger, more irresponsible me. It meant nothing to feel nothing, and any hauntings of a void could be squashed with a smirk and a wry word of expression.
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