Michelangelo Antonioni once summed up his filmmaking philosophy in one sentence: “I’m looking for traces of feeling in men.” In women, too.

From Gabriele Ferzetti and Monica Vitti searching for their missing friend (and their own souls) along the Mediterranean in “L’Avventura” to David Hemmings’ photographer who might have uncovered a murder within the emptiness of his images of Swingin’ ’60s London in “Blow-Up,” to Jack Nicholson’s TV news reporter who exchanges identities with a dead man (thus searching for his own) in “The Passenger,” Antonioni depicts people who find themselves trapped in a material, modern world, with meaning slowly slipping away even as they try desperately to find it.