In most of Federico Fellini's best films, he made big statements about the way we live and socialize with each other and deal with ourselves as much as the past, all within exciting, tragic-comic film-making style. Orchestra Rehearsal does the same, though in a shorter amount of time. We are given a (union) orchestra in Italy, who's members vary from young adults to the old timers, women, introverts, trouble makers, and so forth, who each have their own music of choice (or sometimes of necessity). The conductor is frustrated- he can barely get the orchestra to concentrate much less really practice, and the union problems get things caught in the way as they rip through the ironically happy and (typically) carnival-like pieces. There's a break taken, which is when everything starts to slowly, but surely, wind down and breakdown among the musicians. In the meantime a television crew stands by taking 'interviews' of the musicians, their opinions, their little 'off' moments, signaling the anarchy that will soon ensue.

The interviews themselves are some of the strongest, funniest parts of the film- the interviewers get (sometimes begrudgingly) words on their instruments, why they play, how they play, and what role their music has in the world. These interviews can also be hit-or-miss sometimes, and because of the constant dialog (there's sometimes barely a breath to be had, as is the beautiful claustrophobic style in Fellini's characters), there's almost too much information going on. There's also the tendency for the character(s), whom are mostly portrayed by un-professionals (to acting, not to music of course), to not be very convincing, or even a little boring (the conductor's monologue in his room, for example, is one of the weaker parts of the film for me). But then it does start to pick up in insane, trademark Fellini fashion as the musicians rebel, and an unexpected surprise comes heading their way.

It's likely that Orchestra Rehearsal isn't one of Fellini's very best films, but it is one that captivates as it bemuses, brings laughs as it does thought, and it isn't necessarily a wasteful experience (some may not like it much at all, at least in comparison to his masterpieces). Not to forget the incalculable, lasting power of Nina Rota's music, which drives the film's bombastic, heart-racing rehearsing scenes (there is also humor underneath much of the music, like when the musicians have their own little solos as jokes). There's something always satisfying when a composer is on the same page as the director he's writing for, and few were ever so in tune as Fellini and Rota. And even during some parts that don't add up, their combination helps out a lot. As mentioned before, one could even think deeper into the ideas and thoughts and characters in the film as almost a microcosm of society itself, its easy-going people, its hard-nosed people, its incendiaries, its nostalgics, and its normals and eccentrics. Or, one can just take the Fellini ride, so to speak, and enjoy some 70 minutes with Fellini & company.

It is rather neglected a movie by Fellini, but I agree with those who see it as a 'metaphor' of the Italian society; not of the Italian society in general, but of the Italian society at the end of the '70s. After 1968, there was turmoil in the country and the artist's message is quite clear, apparently: prolonged social strife can lead to dictatorial outcomes. The message is not so clear at the beginning of the film and it might be seen as a sort of a 'documentary', but when that huge stone 'ball' starts pounding on the building where the 'orchestra' are rehearsing and a faraway voice starts becoming more and more clear and strong, Fellini's message becomes obvious.

Perhaps not your usual Fellini film, if there is such a thing, but, made between his Casanova (1976) and City of Women (1980), this is an intriguing if rather short and enigmatic piece. Ostensibly a documentary but almost as soon as the musicians begin turning up, all does not seem to be quite as expected. Has the director really found an orchestra with so many oddball characters? Is the German conductor a fascist dictator in disguise? Are the proceedings really to be monitored by a trade union shop steward? Is this more a comment upon Italian politics of the time than a showcase for music? All may be revealed to each upon his or her own viewing and interpretation but for me it is a brave and amusing piece that perhaps loses a fair bit without awareness of the considerable turmoil within Italy at the time. One of the most interesting elements happens to be that Nino Rota wrote the music that is rehearsed and then performed within the film and that it was one of the last things he did before dying the following year, having scored around 150 films including almost every single one for Federico Fellini.

This is likely the finest make-believe documentary that I have ever seen. The setting is a rundown Medieval Roman chapel, now an oratorio where an orchestra gathers. A television crew is making a documentary about this orchestra (while the orchestra is dealing with a union dispute). The bulk of the film's first half focuses on individual musicians, many of whom reminisce about their first encounter with the instrument they play. When the musicians talk about their instrument, they often share thoughtful and stimulating metaphors about the meaning and the function of their instrument. There are a few times during the film where the action is interrupted by a large rumble in the building. We don't know what this is exactly until the end of the film. The film transforms from poetic, to pure comical delight, to complete chaos, to lyrical beauty when the musicians play the music.

Composer Nino Rota's contribution was an immense one. He composed all of the pieces the musicians play in the film, and I believe they the music is absolutely wonderful (my personal favorite of Rota's compositions for "Orchestra Rehearsal" being the final piece the orchestra performs). This was the last time Rota scored a Fellini film, he died the next year.

I also must comment on the top-notch cinematography, which is quintessentially Felliniesque (ex. incredible long shots of the orchestra playing, shots of musicians lined up in very particular angles, and a couple of sweeping pans).

Anybody who loves orchestral music will like this film to some degree. I happen to immensely love Fellini, Rota, AND orchestral music, so for me, this film is nothing short of absolutely marvelous entertainment!

Some fully creditable critics deemed "Prova d'orchestra" as being Fellini's main masterpiece. Although recognizing their slight exaggeration, I still can fully empathize with their point. The movie is one of the most intelligent, stylish and personal instances of the much used (and abused) recipe of the "social microcosm". Of course, Fellini's trick to build up a parable of society by using the orchestra parallel is not only original, but also very efficient: the metaphors and symbols resulting from this are both powerful and humorous, in an atrociously satyric vein.

Also, it's very interesting to note the gradual glissando from realism to hyperbole, and from cold detachment to paranoid hysteria; as such, what started as a pseudo-documentary, impartial and technical, gradually turns into a major pandemonium, to culminate with the hallucinatory profiling of the demolition iron ball, as an omen of doom - that being the point where the artist really meets the divine, both as meaning, and as means.

One should also notice the masterfully style of shooting the orchestra, the people and the instruments, to build up the cinematographic symphony layered over the musical one, and to create that irresistibly fast-paced narrative in images, that makes the movie so exciting and captivating - it's literally to be watched on the edge on your seat, although nothing more spectacular happens than an orchestra rehearsing in a disaffected church... all being the result of Fellini's skillful cinematography.

At last, one couldn't depart any reference to this masterpiece without mentioning at least in passing the haunting finale. Although I always regarded with political objectivity and historical honesty the national-socialist ideology, goals and means, I must confess that I fully assimilate Fellini's powerful warning about any dictatorial excesses. Balduin Bass' voice rising in a Hitlerian monologue is an efficient and pointed mean of expression and style - and his last line after fade out, "Signori... Da capo!", indeed MAKES A POINT!

I read some people saying that this film made no sense, and that it's just a orchestra rehearsal; it hurst how wrong they are. As any other Fellini, you have to scratch the surface, and you will find a great meaning. That's what I love about his films, they make you think! If you think nothing happened in this movie, go watch a Transformers film, you'll probably thing that there's a lot going on while there's nothing at all. While it may lack Fellini's characteristic powerful visuals, it has a very powerful meaning about politics, society and life. Awesome movie, and great for it's lenght

This movie is one of my all-time favourites: through the "metaphor" of music, a universal picture of a power struggle is shown. Although this may appear 'thin', many layers of this struggle are peeled off. The German (looking) conductor appears to portray an easy comparison to Adolf Hitler, but another could be to Herbert von Karajan, the dictatorial conductor of the Berliner Philharmoniker. And then there is the great music score, that still lingers in my head, although I have not been able to find a recording of it (CD/LP?)(after almost 30 years!). I saw this movie again some years ago and it does not look dated. While I am not a Fellini adept and this movie was seen as one of his minor ones, this is a real classic to me.

Fellini's "Prova d'orchestra" was originally made for television, and there it should have stayed. As a cinematic event, it does not deliver. Yes, it's well directed and nicely acted, it has an interesting idea in it, but it's not enough for me to enjoy it. Eventually it looks like an exercise by some cinema student and not like a piece by Fellini, one of a few cinema genius of our time. I was disappointed, even though I enjoyed parts of it. My Grade: *** (out of *****)

A rare jewel in Fellini's filmography.

While the unchained genius who broke off with Neorealism to build up his own personal brand of art reaches such absolute heights of delirium as in "Satyricon", "Casanova" or "E la nave va", here he is grave, pondered, sober, using a very fine irony to cast on his message about human society.

One can relate this movie rather to "I Clowns", "Roma" and "Amarcord". Splendid in everything, and deeply permeated by the Great Federico's bright mind. Some people go even to declare it the best Fellini ever - and it wouldn't be too easy to contradict them!

A short pseudo-documentary about an orchestra rehearsing in an old church. I like the pieces where the various musicians speak about how their individual instruments have their places in the mix. But then there's this odd and poorly developed stuff about the orchestra hating their conductor, from whom they eventually rebel. The film falls into an uninteresting anarchy. The only reason the film is worth watching is because of Nino Rota's score, his last for Fellini (he died in April of 1979, 8 days before I was born, incidentally). 6/10.

My score of 5 does not mean that "The Orchestra Rehearsal" is a mediocre film--it's more a score reflecting how enjoyable the film would be for most folks. Most people would be confused and somewhat bemused by the film....and by the time it's over, they'll be wondering whether or not they liked it. It is clearly NOT a film for the average viewer--and the same can be said of many other Fellini films--where surrealism takes precedence over story.

When the film begins, it appears to be a rather ordinary documentary. Various orchestra members talk to the camera and explain in rather ridiculous manners who important their particular musical instrument is. Practically all of them think theirs is the best and ascribe lots of nutty attributes to it. It's mildly, very mildly, amusing. However, as the film progresses, it appears as if the filmmakers took drugs--and the more the film progresses, the more the drugs take effect!! Suddenly, the orchestra degenerates--as if the members are mostly petulant children. What does it all mean? Well, perhaps nothing--or perhaps it's all about the dangers of a truly socialist system. Who knows? Overall, this is a mega-weird film--even by Fellini standards. Unless you are a huge Fellini-phile, I doubt if the film is one you'll adore. Not badly made, but strange. If you like "And the Ship Sails On" or "City of Women", you'll love this film. If you don't like these films, then "The Orchestra Rehearsal" is probably not for you.

While the movie analyzes the roots and resolution of social revolt, what I like the most about it, is the personalized world-view of the musicians, as well as an exceptional music drive. My favorite Fellini and Rota. 10/10.

This miniature movie's tempo builds, stops and starts in that comical, jerky way characteristic of Fellini. It's one of the things I like.

The interviews are a riot!

It appears to be a parable of the last few hundred years of European history.

There's an orchestra, and it rehearses. I wish there was more to it than that but such is the way of it. No doubt there will be those who'll attempt to create something more out of it than what it is we all saw; perhaps the temptation to some, that of dragging the issue of social commentary into the fray, will be too much to turn down. Granted, there is an undeniably DeMille-esque sense of chaos about the very final few scenes of Fellini's "Orchestra Rehearsal", wherein the madness and filth which suddenly erupts out of I'm-not-quite-sure-what reminds one of how those who had lost their faith at the end of DeMille's 1956 remake of "The Ten Commandments" trussed up a model of a farmyard animal and began worshipping it once it had been painted gold. They were, of course, eventually struck down for their sins, and when one observes a film such as Fellini's here depict something very classical, very high-culture essentially fall apart before further still descend into the sort of abject bedlam on show towards the end, one can very easily read into it as being a gradual decline to decency; morals and cultural affluence.

The short and long of it is, however, that the film is a failed (although not without being wholly uninteresting) experiment that wasn't sure how it was meant to end. Several years ago, a revealing interview with American screenwriter Brian Helgeland (upon being asked about the nightmare process behind both his and the studio's idea of how 1999 film "Payback" might conclude) saw him criticise the version we all got for taking the easy way out: "If you have any doubts as to how to end a movie..." he would say, whilst reciting some tongue in cheek once advice given to him, "...set everything on fire". Federico Fellini wastes little time in establishing an orchestra as being a beautiful, constructive thing. Where sound effects not limited to busy traffic, soaring aircraft and emergency sirens combine to cause a terrific bombardment of noise that opens the film, an orchestra creating its own cacophony of sound eventually comes to occupy the frame in what is supposed to strike us as a pleasing, controlled burst of extravagant sound as opposed to before. This is no doubt the film announcing to us its opinion on the majesty that the orchestra carries, the brilliance of high-culture and how elevated it is in comparison to the everyday; to the normalised; to the regular. Everything else is just mundane by comparison.

While thin on narrative, the 'story' of the piece is that of those involved in this large orchestra - that is to say, their arrival; their talking while waiting for others and what they think of the wider world beyond the confines of this hired hall. At one point, a mouse interrupts proceedings and some of the brasher male members of the troupe enjoy winding up the more finicky female members once it's been killed and is in hand. I'm not sure if it's known as to whether the mouse genuinely interrupted proceedings during the shoot or if it was a staged set piece, but the film certainly carries this fiction/non-fiction vibe throughout. The film is mostly shot from a mock-televisual perspective created by a fictitious TV crew who are there purely to capture the essence of what being in an orchestra is really like. The approach is problematic, something which sees the documentary that will be made out of the footage being collected not necessarily the thing we're observing now, but more-so the raw footage – fifteen minutes in, we begin to wish it were a documentary about an orchestra. One is reminded of that sequence from 1992 Belgian film "Man Bites Dog", wherein the individual about whom the faux-documentary is, can be seen editing the finished product we're watching. There, flair and ingenuity were at least applied to an approach even if the two films couldn't be any further apart in tone and the like.

As a result, Orchestra Rehearsal is slow and boggy; it weighs us down with what are essentially outtakes that serve no other purpose than to bulk out the runtime of a film running at seventy minutes anyway. For a film about an orchestra, it would certainly have been nice to actually hear some classical music, but what we get are scraps of arguments – mere tidbits of dialogue which may have been improvised; may have been scripted or indeed may consist of a bit of both but ultimately leave us unmoved. The idea of a neo-realist piece depicting the days and times of an orchestra doesn't sound like a bad idea, but to distill it through the means on show here does not work. What we are forced into watching is an experimental piece, a piece wherein individual people say interesting things at various times but the content is largely irrelevant to anything that's happening. Stories about the gentleman who openly admits art has the power to make him cry and that he's clinically depressed because he preferred the way the world was once upon a time would make for good viewing – so too would an exploration of the hypothesis regarding how the members see their instruments as extensions of their bodies. What we get is something stoic, something shot without flair or invention; something that might've benefited from varying hues or filters to differentiate what the cameras reveal to what we alone are entitled to see. Not even Fellini's reputation of being a hands on Italian director prominent at the peak of his nation's neo-realist movement can bail him out here.

This noble effort by Fellini reveals that one of his unspoken influences in film was no doubt Rene Cardonas. Orchestra Rehearsal reveals chaotic visions of a society crumbling within the confines of destruction and apathy. It appears obvious that Fellini borrowed the protaga-symbolism that Rene Cardonas used in his film "Santa Claus," the only difference being Cardonas delivered a clear and enlightening vision. Fellini came close, but there is only one Rene Cardonas.

This Fellini's movie opens in a white, half-empty room. A kind, old man guides us through the history and the current purpose of the oratory until the musicians arrive. He's nostalgic of the old days of which he often speaks, comparing them to the present decay.

The relationship between present and past in music is also evoked by the orchestra leader. The past is always represented as the ideal period opposed to the time infected by media. The television is there to film the orchestra rehearsals: musicians are asked to talk about themselves: it's beautiful how each one of them remembers their encounter with music and the instrument they're playing.

The characters are all unique: they have different stories to tell but they share the same passion. Everyone wants to impose the importance of its own instrument without realizing that magic is accomplished with the presence of every single one together. The orchestra leader complains about the public who, in his opinion, is unable to understand music, or art in general. Like T.S. Eliot's line "the women come and go talking of Michelangelo", the orchestra leader expresses his dissatisfaction with the public.

The second half of the movie is an act of rebellion where the musicians refuse the orchestra leader's role. The seizure of power doesn't last very long: they end up destroying and ruining the oratory. The orchestra leader takes control of the situation and when everything seems to be back to its own harmony, the sound of disappointment echoes in the dust of the room.

The music of the movie is sublime, composed by the incomparable Nino Rota. The acting is simple but pure and it perfectly reaches Fellini's intent.

This is often talked about as Fellini's deconstruction of contemporary Italian society, and that obviously has merit. However there's something at this little television movie's center that seems so blindingly obvious to me that it feels remarkable that more people don't talk about it. Fellini was one of those directors who made incredibly personal films all the time, and I don't think Orchestral Rehearsal is any different. I think that the presence of unions, artists, and a conductor point to the filmmaking process and the troubles that he's seen arise over the course of his career.

Continuing his mockumentary streak that he started in I Clowns and continued in Roma, Fellini presents exactly what the title suggests: an orchestra rehearsal. A group of musicians have come together in an auditorium converted from a 13th century church where several bishops and popes are buried in order to practice playing some music. Introduced by the copyist who lays out the music, he speaks of the space with some reverence, but that attitude doesn't get shared by the musicians who file in. They get ready, speak to each other, engage with the film crew, and explain their relationships to each other, their instruments, and how their involvement in the orchestra represents the lynchpin whether it be the violinist, the drummers, or the clarinetist. These are people who obviously love their craft.

Yet they're not the only ones there. There are union representatives who demand things unrelated to the music itself like double breaks (20 minutes, understandable) and four players where one will do (which does not have the interests of the music at heart). Reigning over them all is the conductor. Speaking Italian with a German accent, he's a tyrant who berates his orchestra in order to get what he wants. Having read a bit about how Fellini treated his actors, this performance by the conductor recalls Fellini himself and tells me that this movie is as much about the changing nature of the film industry as it is about Italian society.

After the introductions and the first round of practice where the conductor is unpleased by the performance, everyone goes on their double break as the players begin to forcefully question the nature of the overall arrangement and the conductor, alone in his private room, bemoans the lack of control he has over the orchestra. He doesn't so much as pine for the good old days (as the copyist does just outside, describing how the players loved to be wrapped on the knuckles to make beautiful music, a description that may have more to do with nostalgia than fact) as consider how he will exert further control. When he returns to the practice space, though, the artists have erupted in a full on rebellion, painting graffiti all over the walls of the ancient church, playing discordant musical notes, and calling for the conductor to be replaced by a metronome before casting off the metronome itself as oppressive.

Everything comes to a stop when a wrecking ball (that had been presaged by rumblings that had shaken the action several times previously) crashes through, casting dust everywhere and injuring the nice harp player. Suddenly shaken, the orchestra returns to practice under the guide of the conductor who moves them through part of a piece before returning to his tyrannical ways.

This seems to be Fellini's most self-consciously and defined use of symbols to drive storytelling so far in his career. No one has a name, they are all people defined by their instruments and, potentially, their place of birth. It's a portrait of a complex system built out of individuals with their own desires and dreams. Constructed out of the remnants of a holy place repurposed, it's a system steeped in history with talk of previous conductors in decades past. The individuals of the system, who had managed to work together so well in the past while keeping to their uniqueness, suddenly skip through questioning of the entire system and jump right into destroying it like one finding a seemingly useless fence in a field. Their tearing down of the past does nothing to invite better music in the future, all it does is pit one group against another, creating disorder. Their differences had been celebrated to a certain degree before, but after the revolution they are all made into suspicions.

It's a short film (a grand 69 minutes) and packs in a lot. As implied, there are no real characters, but the individuals fill their specific places with strong color. Like many Fellini films, the pieces don't come together fully until the ending, that wrecking ball that seems to come out of nowhere and provides the characters and the audience with the right frame from which to look at the action preceding it. What does the wrecking ball represent? An undefined external threat? The EU? The box office? I don't know, but the interpretation of the specific symbols is never as important as the flow of the action itself, and Orchestra Rehearsal creates a vision, told on a single set, of a system that tears itself apart and manages to reassemble to a limited degree. It's a surprisingly fun movie to watch and dig into, and it carries a savage intelligence about human nature.

I do say this as a great admirer of Fellini's films in general. Prova D'Orchestra perhaps could have had more time to breathe for the audience, sometimes we do get the sense that we are told so much that by the next bit of information we are still trying to take in the previous. The conductor did have potential to be insightful and interesting, in most documentaries on orchestras or a certain composition or composer the conductor usually is that, but I personally did find him underdeveloped. However there are some undeniably great things about Prova D'Orchestra. It looks gorgeous, filled with shots that are distinctively Fellini(see the long-takes) and lovely scenery. Fellini's direction is as ever great, his style is definitely all over the film and it's quite nostalgic and diligent. The orchestra members' interviews are much more interesting than those of the conductor's, they do have much to say, you can tell they love it and there are bits of humour as well. I didn't quite get that sense with the conductor's monologue in the dressing room really. The basic story is not exactly new, with the whole idea of rebelling against someone, but much is done with it to make it fresh and accessible also to mainly those who take an interest in orchestral music. Which brings me to the music. The best asset of the movie for me. Maybe I'm biased as music has always held a big place in my heart and I will be doing it professionally after my degree, and I have always since The Godfather loved Nino Rota's compositions. Not only is the music beautiful but there are also some subtle humorous injections, which I found pleasing. So all in all, a very interesting Fellini film, but not one of my absolute favourites of his. 8/10 Bethany Cox