"Elsa & Fred" doesn't live up to its "Dolce" inspiration

Over the course of a long career, Federico Fellini inspired many flattering imitators, from Paul Mazursky to Bob Fosse to Martin Scorsese. In such films as "Alex in Wonderland," "Sweet Charity" and "Mean Streets," they paid tribute to his spellbinding approach to cinema.

Marcos Carnevale's "Elsa & Fred" suggests a variation on Fellini's "Ginger and Fred," but has there ever been a less Fellini-like knock-off? Cute and sentimental in ways that Fellini never was, this Argentine-Spanish comedy-drama revolves around an 82-year-old woman's obsession with an iconic moment from Fellini's most popular film, "La Dolce Vita."

Elsa (China Zorrilla), who was once celebrated for her beauty, doesn't have long to live — or to fulfill her lifelong dream of visiting Rome's Trevi Fountain, where Anita Ekberg and Marcello Mastroianni once splashed around, looking particularly glamorous through Fellini's lenses.

Elsa, who lives in Madrid, longs to re-create the moment. To play Mastroianni to her Ekberg, she recruits a 78-year-old widower, Alfredo (Manuel Alexandre), who at first resists her attempts to resurrect their youth.

Elsa is a narcissistic handful, and Alfredo has every reason not to cooperate. Meanwhile, his domineering family is pressuring him to use his remaining funds to finance a dubious business scheme. Will anyone over the age of 8 not be able to predict what happens next?

Best-known for an Argentine television version of "Desperate Housewives," writer-director Carnevale relies far too much on geezer humor, Elsa's questionable charms and an annoyingly pushy score by Lito Vitale. There is, of course, no recognition that Fellini meant "La Dolce Vita" as an ironic title, or that Ekberg was playing a dimwit celebrity, not a goddess.

In the end, only the veteran actors playing Elsa and Fred make the movie watchable. Most memorable moment: Fred catches Elsa in a monstrous fib, and they simply stare off in embarrassment, silently acknowledging his disappointment and her chagrin.

John Hartl: johnhartl@yahoo.com