Review #941: 'Theorem' (1968)

The bourgeoisie have long been a target for many of the great European film-makers. They were an object of fascination and humour for Luis Bunuel and were often portrayed as outwardly repulsive by Rainer Werner Fassbinder and Jean-Luc Godard. In Theorem, Pier Paolo Pasolini ponders whether they are beyond hope and redemption, so far removed from our society that they are now of a different species altogether. The film begins outside of a factory, where the workers gather outside trying to understand why the owner has fled, leaving the entire company in the hands of its employees. They seem angry while a news reporter tries to comprehend the situation.

In an upper-class Milan suburb, a wealthy family are informed of the imminent arrival of a stranger by a enthusiastic postman. The man, known only as the Visitor (Terence Stamp), suddenly appears at their home seemingly without reason, and immediately begins to affect the family and their maid. He stops the maid (Laura Betti) from committing suicide, soothes the son (Andres Jose Cruz Soblette) of his anxieties, eases the fears of the opposite sex of the daughter (Anne Wiazemsky), seduces the sexually repressed mother (Silvana Mangano), and nurses the seriously ill father (Massimo Girotti) back to health. He vanishes as quickly as he appeared, leaving his subjects in various states of bewilderment and enlightenment.

Is the man God, the devil, or both? Ultimately, this question doesn't really matter. It's clear that the Stranger is a divine presence, but it's the effect he has on the unwitting family that is the most fascinating. The maid, a humble woman of low birth, returns to her village and is worshipped as a saint, and even appears to levitate at one point. The bourgeoisie family, however, start to slowly implode, climaxing with the father stripping himself naked and wandering into a desolate land. The Visitor seems to unlock their potential, only they - the maid aside - are unable to handle such divinity brought to them on a human level. The final scene includes a scream that may be ecstasy or pure terror, but Theorem doesn't make it that easy to unravel. This is a complex and fascinating work by one of the Italian masters, and one that will have you trying to pull apart its themes days after you have watched it.


Directed by: Pier Paolo Pasolini
Starring: Silvana Mangano, Terence Stamp, Massimo Girotti, Anne Wiazemsky
Country: Italy

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #910: 'Oedipus Rex' (1967)

Pier Paolo Pasolini's Oedipus Rex is a relatively faithful adaptation of Sophocles' Greek tragedy Oedipus the King. Beginning in 1920's Italy, a baby boy is born and is instantly envied by the displaced father. The setting then changes to ancient times, where a baby boy is being carried out into the desert by a servant to be left out to die from exposure. He is eventually picked up by a shepherd, who takes him back to the King and Queen of Corinth, who adopt the youngster and love him like one of their own. The child grows up to be Edipo (Pasolini's frequent collaborator Franco Citti), an arrogant youth who wishes to see the world for himself. And so he set out on the road to Thebes, the place of his birth.

Plagued by a prophecy that dictates he is destined to murder his father and marry his mother, Edipo is a tortured but intuitive soul. He murders a rich man and his guards after they demand he clear a path for them on the road, and later frees a town from the clutches of a Sphinx by solving its riddle. Staying true to his own recognisable style, Pasolini tells the story of Oedipus not with a sweeping narrative, but through a collection of comedic, violent and often surreal vignettes, the most bizarre and ultimately thrilling being the scene in which Edipo murders the guards. He runs away from them as they chase him, before charging at them one by one and cutting them down. It's a moment without any real motivational insight, offering but a glimpse into Edipo's damaged psyche.

Post-Freud, the story of Oedipus cannot be experienced without reading into the incestuous and patricidal undertones. But these themes are less explored by Pasolini than the idea of Edipo being ultimately responsible for his own downfall. Rather than the inevitability of fate, Edipo creates his own path, committing murder on a whim and marrying while blinded by ambition. For a bulk of the film, Pasolini keeps the audience at arm's length, favouring his own brushes of surrealism over a traditional narrative. While this may be occasionally frustrating - the pre-war scenes than book-end the film seem out of place and confusing - Citti's wide-eyed performance is a fantastic distraction, and the Moroccan scenery helps provide a ghostly, Biblical atmosphere as well as a beautiful backdrop.


Directed by: Pier Paolo Pasolini
Starring: Franco Citti. Silvana Mangano, Alida Valli, Carmelo Bene, Julian Beck
Country: Italy/Morocco

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #497: 'Accattone' (1961)

The term 'accattone' is an old Italian phrase intended to brand a character with an aura of absolute repulsiveness. Thieves and low-lives would usually coin the term when referring to a character that is so despicable, so without moral or social decency, that even the criminals would look down upon them. In Pier Paolo Pasolini's incredibly assured debut, 'Accattone' is Vittorio (Franco Citti), a low-life pimp who when he is not sitting around squeezing money out of people with wagers and tricks, is abusing his lone prostitute who cannot work after breaking her leg in a motorcycle accident. It's a tale of a despicable scumbag, set during a dark period in Rome, where men viewed working as slave labour, and enjoyed themselves by beating prostitutes to within an inch of their life.

It's an incredibly bleak tale, told without sentiment and moral preaching. Pasolini's doesn't seem to want to dictate a larger social message, or make Accattone a sympathetic character who is the victim of political or social oppression, but to simply tell a tale, a real tale, of a group of low-lives who are the way they are because they want to be. After all, the true soul of neo-realism is to portray life the way actual people experience it, not to romanticise or sentimentalise it with the kind of scripts Hollywood are responsible for. Of course, many neo-realist directors would almost betray the genres roots the kind of way only auteurs can manage, and Pasolini would go on to make more surrealistic and interpretive movies, but this is true neo-realism without any kind of magical reward for the audience, or a moment of redemptive enlightenment for its protagonist. It's a story of grit, one that is thrilling and fascinating in equal measures, and with the stamp of a great director.

The film I felt it more akin to is Luis Bunuel's Los Olvidados (1950), a film of equal disregard for cinematic wonder, and one that is also punctured by an impressive dream sequence. Whilst Bunuel's sequence came around the middle section, and was a burst of absolute surrealistic beauty amongst social depravity, Accattone's comes during its climax; a strange, moody set-piece in which Accattone witnesses his own funeral, amongst other things. At first I felt like it was almost betraying what came before, but then I realised it was Pasolini's way to try and get into its characters head, and the outcome is as confusing and as futile as Accattone himself. Though I haven't seen much of Pasolini's work, this is the best I've seen, beating even the distressing brilliance of his final film Salo (1975). Though he would move away from neo-realism, Pasolini achieves more with his debut than some of the greats of the genre would manage to achieve.


Directed by: Pier Paolo Pasolini
Starring: Franco Citti, Franca Pasut, Silvana Corsini
Country: Italy

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #432: 'The Canterbury Tales' (1972)

Continuing his 'Trilogy of Life' cycle exploring medieval literature, The Canterbury Tales by Pier Paolo Pasolini, delves into some of the tales weaved within Geoffrey Chaucer's famous stories. It explores the myriad sexual depravities and allusions with bawdy gusto, featuring almost every perversion known, from voyeurism, flagellation, homosexuality, to even the "love" of a watermelon. The disparate, prurient tales are interwoven with Pasolini plays Chaucer here at his writing desk, imaging his lasciviousness upon villagers. There is even a strange comic interlude paying homage to Charlie Chaplin, in the form of Pasolini regular, Ninetto Davoli.

Whilst the visual style is similar to The Decameron (1970 - Dante Feretti again is art director), the stories do not intertwine as well here, which could create some confusion in the viewer. With a largely British cast (including Tom Baker, Hugh Griffith, Jeeny Runacre, and even Robin Askwith), the film film sometimes feels like a slightly less repressed 1970's British sex comedy (Carry On Canterbury, if you like). With its delight in sexual promiscuity and perversion, it is certainly one of Pasolini's less than intellectual affairs, and even fails to humour. Unless of course your funny bone is easily pleased by fart jokes.

With a bizarre finale set in hell (its visual design clearly inspired by the paintings of Hieronymus Bosch), we see an over-sized Satan shitting out some plebeian folks, to the obscene delight of those scattered round the pits. Whilst this incredibly short ending is disgustingly joyous, it fails to save a very scatological film, that vies more towards the crass than the enlightening.


Directed by: Pier Paolo Pasolini
Starring: Hugh Griffith, Laura Betti, Ninetto Davoli, Franco Citti, Josephine Chaplin
Country: Italy/France

Rating: ***

Marc Ivamy

Review #360: 'The Gospel According to St. Matthew' (1964)

From 1903's Passion play, to Mel Gibson's anti-Semitic gore festival, The Passion of the Christ (2004), the story of Jesus as written in the new testament has been a cinematic staple since the start, and whilst there are many variations and interpretations, they have largely been produced by absolute believers. However, after a visit to Pope John XXII, who in the early 1960's was reaching out to non-Catholic artists, and a reading of the gospels, the Italian film maker, Pier Paolo Pasolini - vocal atheist, homosexual, and Marxist, - undertook a quite direct, and literal interpretation of the story of Christ. But unlike the usual productions of this narrative, Pasolini's film has none of the dramatic inventions of a more "mystical" interpretation such as The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965), which was produced a year after this with a huge budget, starring Charlton Heston, and made under the machinations of the Hollywood system.

At this stage in Pasolini's career, he was still working within the neo-realist trend that had perpetuated in Italy in the post-war years. He brings this more loose style of film making to this "great" story. What he also brings is another trend of this movement, which was the use of non-actors. But fundamental to the directors work, and particularly this film, is his political views. His depiction of Jesus is that of a political thinker, and an advocate of social justice. The choice to watch this film at this time was purely coincidental, but it dawned upon me the significance of the message. In a week in politics in the United Kingdom where our current government's budget revealed heavy cuts to the taxes of the very rich, whilst the poor of the country are told to live in austerity, there is a very simple line spoken by Jesus (Enrique Irazoqui) - which should have been utilised by the occupy camp that was moved away from St Paul's Cathedral in central London, he states: "It would be easier for a camel to get in the kingdom of heaven, than it would be for a rich man."

Whilst I consider myself an Atheist, the message of these gospels are very clear, and yet we still live in a world where the rich get richer, and the catholic church gets sickeningly richer. To use a very tired, and over used statement in popular culture: What would Jesus do? If there were to be a second coming, surely he would not be pleased. Anyway, I digress. I believe that some of this may be Pasolini's point. If the story of Jesus were true, then his message was clear, and even if he never even lived, the fact of the matter is that his message is clear, and yet the people who follow his teachings largely simply ignore this and interpret to whatever means they feel is right.

As previously stated the film is shot in the cinema verite style and this helps give the story not only realism, but a gravitas that is lost in the more lavish productions. The film looks absolutely beautiful, and this is helped by the incredible southern Italian setting, which adds a seeming reality. Without question, this is the greatest film of the story of Christ, and clearly influenced the later Martin Scorsese film The Last Temptation of Christ (1988). Even if you (as I am) are not a believer, this film is more about the crimes of social injustice, and the division caused by wealth. Essential film making.


Directed by: Pier Paolo Pasolini
Starring: Enrique Irazoqui, Margherita Caruso, Susanna Pasolini
Country: Italy/France

Rating: *****

Marc Ivamy

Review #303: 'The Decameron' (1971)

The first of what became Pier Poalo Pasolini's Trilogy of Life, with each film adapting stories from archaic literature. In this case, Giovanni Boccaccio's book of the same name, written in 14th century Italy. The film takes nine of the 100 stories from the book and weaves them into vignettes of everyday Medieval life. We see nymphomaniac nuns, grave robbing, deceit, and cuckolding. In one segment, a boy is lured into the house of a pretty girl. She tells him that he is her brother. however, after taking his clothes and money, the boy is thrown out, where he is picked up by a couple of thieves who recruit him to climb inside of a tomb and steal the recently dead archbishop's ruby ring. The boy is left trapped in the grave.

This bawdy romp is a lot of fun. This was a surprise being Pasolini. The portmanteau style storytelling works well with this roaming tour through a debauched, ancient landscape. Many of the oddball characters were non-actors (something Pasolini had used throughout his career), and some have such incredibly rickety teeth, and are a strange and uncomfortable, yet thoroughly enjoyable watch.

The film ends with a statement by Pasolini himself (he played the painter, Giotto between, and within some of the stories), which is possibly a statement about the dream like quality the narrative has in its assemblage of the parts. He says: Why create a work of art, when you can just dream about it? Indeed, why create narrative cinema, when you can manoeuvre through scenes of life and create a patchwork of living, permeated with verisimilitude.


Directed by: Pier Paolo Pasolini
Starring: Franco Citti, Ninetto Davoli, Vincenzo Amato
Country: Italy/France/West Germany

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy