In a recent documentary called $ellebrity, we are treated to the spectacle celebrities face every time they try to leave their abodes. If a good shot of a celebrity can fetch a high price, there might be 50 photographers yelling insults to get a dirty look. Such an image taken out of context can portray the celebrity as difficult. One of the most poignant moments of this documentary involves a silver-haired gent watching footage of one of these stakeouts. After the clip finishes, he looks rather glum. “We were not like these people.” What makes this moment so special is that this fellow is one of the people filmmaker Frederico Fellinii referred to when he coined the term “paparazzi.”

Fifty years ago the world was a very different place. A good example of this, offered by that celebrity photographer, involved a night where he and other photogs chased Liz Taylor and Richard Burton around Rome. When the couple accidently drove their car off the road, the paparazzi sprung into action to help them push their car onto the road, allowing the pair to compose themselves for “candid” photos.

In Fellini’s La Dolce Vita (1960), the lead actor (Marcello Mastroianni) plays a jaded reporter who is often followed around by a spirited group of photographers. As they chase people on Vespas, the mood is more like a consensual game. Because Fellini liked to cast non-actors, the paparazzi are real. Although the cast includes real actors for lead roles (Anouk Aimée, Anita Ekberg, Lex Barker), most of the film feels like Found Art.

Although he had a considerable filmography when he made La Dolce Vita, it was that first film that might be considered “a Fellini film” as we use the term today. It is a hulking monster that chugs along for nearly three hours, divided into multiple parts. The cast is full of those wonderful characters that defined what casting directors would come to know as “Felliniesque.” Among the people who happen into the film are a young Nico. She is encountered at a party in a beautifully decaying castle. The aristocrats who are hosting the party represent a younger and more decadent generation. This is beautifully illuminated by their encounter with the castle’s grande dame. They are coming in from an all-night party in the castle ruins, while she is setting out for mass with priests in tow.

Along the way Marcello juggles lady friends and chases after celebrity stories to break. A segment foretelling modern celebrity involves a child’s vision of the Virgin Mary. A crowd grows frenzied by the specter, and rips apart a “tree that gave her shelter” for souvenirs. When the crowd disassembles we see that a child who was brought to experience a miracle healing has been trampled to death. Not merely prescient about the state of modern celebrity, this film has had much to do with the aspirations of many an auteur since.