
Many people think of Fellini’s “La Dolce Vita” as a perpetually glamorous twilight world populated by rich ne’er-do-wells wearing dark sunglasses and diamond tiaras while they jump into fountains and chase each other around in expensive Italian sportscars. But it’s often forgotten that there’s an equal dose of bitter that goes with all that sweetness: the nights might be all about picking up prostitutes in your convertible and darting paparazzi and fountain jumping, but it’s that pervading sense of desperate melancholy that lingers once the sun comes up.
It’s a credit, then, to directors Michael Lucas and Tony Dimarco that their version of “La Dolce Vita” manages to capture that melancholy while adhering loosely to many of the plot details of the original. In fact, this may be one of the saddest porn movies you’ve ever seen. (And that’s meant as a compliment.)