Caligula
October 7th 2010 02:51
“What shall it profit a man if he should gain the whole world and lose his own soul.” --- Mark 8:36
Behold, the glorious disaster that is I, Caligula! Not as an unmitigated catastrophe, but as the beautiful ruins of a once proud beast, the most expensive hardcore movie of all-time, Bob Guccione and Tinto Brass’s Caligula (1979) took four years to make, enjoyed a briefly successful run in a handful of theatres before becoming the white elephant in the offices of Penthouse magazine, the bane of screenwriter Gore Vidal’s career, the thorn in Tinto Brass’s side, and the embarrassment of core cast members, not to mention, the ridicule of most critics. Throughout Caligula’s checkered history – and, it is oh so checkered – the movie has been continually, and unjustly, banished from serious appraisal. But I champion this movie; warts, deformities, excesses, and extremities, in all its muddled, self-indulgent wonder! Vivat Caligula!
“I have existed from the morning of the world and I shall exist until the last star falls from the night. Although I have taken the form of Gaius Caligula, I am all men as I am no man and therefore I am a God.”
Caligula traces the swift and sudden rise to power of Gaius Germanicus Caligula, and his (relatively short) reign as the third, and most infamous, Caeser of Rome from age 24 to 29. He was assassinated in 41 AD, along with his wife and daughter, after madness got the better of his judgment, and he’d betrayed one too many of his colleagues, a trail of murder and confusion left in the wake of his corrupt and ineffective leadership. But oh, what a fascinating period of decadent, violent history this movie traces. The abuse of power amidst the insanity of pagan Rome.
At the time Caligula was the most expensive independent movie ever made (it probably still ranks pretty high). Producer Bob Guccione, the editor and publisher of Penthouse magazine, had a deep-rooted desire to make the most spectacular adult movie ever. But telling the story of Emperor Caligula wasn’t his idea. Producer Franco Rosselini invited scribe Gore Vidal to pen an original perspective on the story that would make no concessions to producer’s whims. Vidal incorporated his name into the title (to give auteur weight), and convinced underground filmmaker Paul Morrissey to direct. Enter Guccione as co-producer. Immediately the new affair rocketed the budget into the multi-millions, and Guccione got rid of Morrissey, not wanting the Warhol crowd hanging around.
Rosselini saw Tinto Brass’s brazen Nazi rub Salon Kitty (1976) and had it screened for Guccione. They’d found their director. Also on board was production and costume designer Danilo Donati who supervised the manufacture of 3592 costumes, 5000 handcrafted boots and sandals, and wigs made from more than 1000 pounds of human hair! Donati was also in charge of a full-scale Roman vessel, complete with 120 hand-carved oars, the largest prop ever built at the time, at over 175-ft long and 30-ft high, and the stadium arena which spanned the length of three US football fields, and featured the notorious “headclipper” execution machine that was five storeys high and 150-ft wide! That’s right, Guccione was sparing no expense!
Gore Vidal was appalled at what was happening to his baby; gone were the muddy streets and dirty togas, replaced by majestic palaces and glamorous ladies-in-waiting, and his narrative auteur intent had been sabotaged. He resigned from the project and asked for his name to be removed from the movie's credits, but Guccione had always intended for Vidal’s name to give the movie a veneer of respectability, and refused to discredit him. Later Guccione would alienate director Tinto Brass when he had him locked out of the editing suite.
Caligula was quickly running into trouble and out of control. Principal photography was completed at the end of 1976, where it then entered a protracted post-production hell. The most infamous part of which was Guccione adding several minutes of inserts (pun intended) of sexually explicit footage he shot himself to take the movie to the next level (or baser level, depending on your sensibilities), chiefly in a legendary Sapphic tryst, and during the imperial bordello orgy sequence.
I remember seeing full-page ads in my father’s secret stash of Penthouse magazines for several years before Caligula was finally released. The most commonly seen version was the R-rated theatrical cut which had all the graphic sexuality removed and was the version released on VHS. In 1999 the original uncut 156-minute version was released on DVD. However, neither of these versions do any justice to the intended shooting script, which was the heavily-tampered Gore Vidal screenplay.
This is where I use the “disaster” description again. Not so much because the movie was ultimately a box-office failure and created so much disdain, but because Bob Guccione’s arrogance lead him to constructing the movie himself in the editing room (after banishing Tinto Brass), and his ineptness had him ruining any kind of narrative continuity or cohesion which Brass had established during the principal shoot. Guccione and editor Nino Baragli chose many shots that were never meant to be included (zooms, out-of-focus shots, etc), cut up scenes and put them in the wrong order, deleted background characters, used confusing cutaways, and re-dubbed some scenes with entirely new dialogue! The final cut was three hours (with the lesbian and bordello scenes lasting 20 minutes each!), but that version only ever played at a few private trade screenings, and all traces of it vanished (oh, the humanity!)
Guccione had put together an impressive cast; Malcolm McDowell as the repugnant Caeser, Peter O’Toole as Tiberius, his ailing father, Sir John Gielgud as Nerva the elder, Helen Mirren as Caesonia, plus Teresa Ann Savoy and John Steiner who had been in Salon Kitty. Rounding out the rest of the support cast were mostly Italian actors, and Penthouse pets such as Lori Wagner, Anneka Di Lorenzo, Valerie Ray Clark and Jane Hargrave. After the movie was released both O’Toole and Gielgud wanted to disown the movie for its outrageously lewd and lascivious content, which only gave the movie more kudos amongst the underground circuit.
Other actors who were considered for parts included Charlotte Rampling, Katherine Ross, Peter Firth, Orson Welles, Isabelle Adjani, Jack Nicholson, and Maria Schneider, who was actually cast (as Drusilla) and shot some scenes only to walk off-set and quit in disgust when she discovered just how much nudity was actually required of her (apparently she’d not been happy with what Bertolucci had demanded of her on Last Tango in Paris)
Caligula is an extraordinary movie; the sumptuous sets and art direction, the saturation of mood and tone, the melodramatic performances (most of which are admittedly pretty dreadful); the whole production looks and feels like a strange phantasmogorical pantomime, a fabulously grotesque parade and elaborate façade of excesses and indulgences. Caligula is a marvel of decadence in every sense of the word; gorging on hedonistic pursuits, amidst the decay of morality and sensibility. The narrative is disjointed and at times infuriating in its lack of continuity, but it adds to the perverted fantasy of its depiction of history. That’s not to say much of this didn’t really happen, but I’m pretty certain the glamour of pagan Rome is an anomaly.
Caligula is a movie to be admired for its set-pieces rather than a successful narrative or character development. It is a movie to be experienced, to let its sensual decadence pour over you like sticky molasses and rich claret. There will probably never be another movie quite like it, despite the continuing desire of filmmakers to make sophisticated adult movies that might crossover into the mainstream. I know I’m one of them.
These kinds of movies will always exist in the shadowy territory of underground, transgressive cinema. And perhaps that’s the best place for them, otherwise we have to listen to self-important prats like Roger Ebert who walked out of his screening, yet still reviewed the movie, describing it as “sickening, utterly worthless, shameful trash. If it is not the worst film I have ever seen, that makes it all the more shameful: People with talent allowed themselves to participate in this travesty." He gave it zero stars, and ended with a quote from another viewer who told him "This movie is the worst piece of shit I have ever seen.”
One person’s trash is another’s treasure. Or in my case, a pleasure with absolutely no guilt attached.
This is the second in my three-movie series “Decadence Extremus”.
Here’s the Australian VHS spot and also the theatrical trailer:
Behold, the glorious disaster that is I, Caligula! Not as an unmitigated catastrophe, but as the beautiful ruins of a once proud beast, the most expensive hardcore movie of all-time, Bob Guccione and Tinto Brass’s Caligula (1979) took four years to make, enjoyed a briefly successful run in a handful of theatres before becoming the white elephant in the offices of Penthouse magazine, the bane of screenwriter Gore Vidal’s career, the thorn in Tinto Brass’s side, and the embarrassment of core cast members, not to mention, the ridicule of most critics. Throughout Caligula’s checkered history – and, it is oh so checkered – the movie has been continually, and unjustly, banished from serious appraisal. But I champion this movie; warts, deformities, excesses, and extremities, in all its muddled, self-indulgent wonder! Vivat Caligula!
“I have existed from the morning of the world and I shall exist until the last star falls from the night. Although I have taken the form of Gaius Caligula, I am all men as I am no man and therefore I am a God.”
Caligula traces the swift and sudden rise to power of Gaius Germanicus Caligula, and his (relatively short) reign as the third, and most infamous, Caeser of Rome from age 24 to 29. He was assassinated in 41 AD, along with his wife and daughter, after madness got the better of his judgment, and he’d betrayed one too many of his colleagues, a trail of murder and confusion left in the wake of his corrupt and ineffective leadership. But oh, what a fascinating period of decadent, violent history this movie traces. The abuse of power amidst the insanity of pagan Rome.
At the time Caligula was the most expensive independent movie ever made (it probably still ranks pretty high). Producer Bob Guccione, the editor and publisher of Penthouse magazine, had a deep-rooted desire to make the most spectacular adult movie ever. But telling the story of Emperor Caligula wasn’t his idea. Producer Franco Rosselini invited scribe Gore Vidal to pen an original perspective on the story that would make no concessions to producer’s whims. Vidal incorporated his name into the title (to give auteur weight), and convinced underground filmmaker Paul Morrissey to direct. Enter Guccione as co-producer. Immediately the new affair rocketed the budget into the multi-millions, and Guccione got rid of Morrissey, not wanting the Warhol crowd hanging around.
Rosselini saw Tinto Brass’s brazen Nazi rub Salon Kitty (1976) and had it screened for Guccione. They’d found their director. Also on board was production and costume designer Danilo Donati who supervised the manufacture of 3592 costumes, 5000 handcrafted boots and sandals, and wigs made from more than 1000 pounds of human hair! Donati was also in charge of a full-scale Roman vessel, complete with 120 hand-carved oars, the largest prop ever built at the time, at over 175-ft long and 30-ft high, and the stadium arena which spanned the length of three US football fields, and featured the notorious “headclipper” execution machine that was five storeys high and 150-ft wide! That’s right, Guccione was sparing no expense!
Gore Vidal was appalled at what was happening to his baby; gone were the muddy streets and dirty togas, replaced by majestic palaces and glamorous ladies-in-waiting, and his narrative auteur intent had been sabotaged. He resigned from the project and asked for his name to be removed from the movie's credits, but Guccione had always intended for Vidal’s name to give the movie a veneer of respectability, and refused to discredit him. Later Guccione would alienate director Tinto Brass when he had him locked out of the editing suite.
Caligula gives the thumbs down, flanked by Macro (Guido Mannari) on left and Claudius (Giancarlo Badessi) on the right
Caligula flanked by Charicles (Leopold Treiste) and Longinus (John Steiner) on left, and Drusilla (Teresa Ann Savoy), Gemellus (Bruno Brive) and Claudius on the right - click for larger view
This is where I use the “disaster” description again. Not so much because the movie was ultimately a box-office failure and created so much disdain, but because Bob Guccione’s arrogance lead him to constructing the movie himself in the editing room (after banishing Tinto Brass), and his ineptness had him ruining any kind of narrative continuity or cohesion which Brass had established during the principal shoot. Guccione and editor Nino Baragli chose many shots that were never meant to be included (zooms, out-of-focus shots, etc), cut up scenes and put them in the wrong order, deleted background characters, used confusing cutaways, and re-dubbed some scenes with entirely new dialogue! The final cut was three hours (with the lesbian and bordello scenes lasting 20 minutes each!), but that version only ever played at a few private trade screenings, and all traces of it vanished (oh, the humanity!)
Guccione had put together an impressive cast; Malcolm McDowell as the repugnant Caeser, Peter O’Toole as Tiberius, his ailing father, Sir John Gielgud as Nerva the elder, Helen Mirren as Caesonia, plus Teresa Ann Savoy and John Steiner who had been in Salon Kitty. Rounding out the rest of the support cast were mostly Italian actors, and Penthouse pets such as Lori Wagner, Anneka Di Lorenzo, Valerie Ray Clark and Jane Hargrave. After the movie was released both O’Toole and Gielgud wanted to disown the movie for its outrageously lewd and lascivious content, which only gave the movie more kudos amongst the underground circuit.
Other actors who were considered for parts included Charlotte Rampling, Katherine Ross, Peter Firth, Orson Welles, Isabelle Adjani, Jack Nicholson, and Maria Schneider, who was actually cast (as Drusilla) and shot some scenes only to walk off-set and quit in disgust when she discovered just how much nudity was actually required of her (apparently she’d not been happy with what Bertolucci had demanded of her on Last Tango in Paris)
Caligula is an extraordinary movie; the sumptuous sets and art direction, the saturation of mood and tone, the melodramatic performances (most of which are admittedly pretty dreadful); the whole production looks and feels like a strange phantasmogorical pantomime, a fabulously grotesque parade and elaborate façade of excesses and indulgences. Caligula is a marvel of decadence in every sense of the word; gorging on hedonistic pursuits, amidst the decay of morality and sensibility. The narrative is disjointed and at times infuriating in its lack of continuity, but it adds to the perverted fantasy of its depiction of history. That’s not to say much of this didn’t really happen, but I’m pretty certain the glamour of pagan Rome is an anomaly.
Caligula is a movie to be admired for its set-pieces rather than a successful narrative or character development. It is a movie to be experienced, to let its sensual decadence pour over you like sticky molasses and rich claret. There will probably never be another movie quite like it, despite the continuing desire of filmmakers to make sophisticated adult movies that might crossover into the mainstream. I know I’m one of them.
These kinds of movies will always exist in the shadowy territory of underground, transgressive cinema. And perhaps that’s the best place for them, otherwise we have to listen to self-important prats like Roger Ebert who walked out of his screening, yet still reviewed the movie, describing it as “sickening, utterly worthless, shameful trash. If it is not the worst film I have ever seen, that makes it all the more shameful: People with talent allowed themselves to participate in this travesty." He gave it zero stars, and ended with a quote from another viewer who told him "This movie is the worst piece of shit I have ever seen.”
One person’s trash is another’s treasure. Or in my case, a pleasure with absolutely no guilt attached.
This is the second in my three-movie series “Decadence Extremus”.
Here’s the Australian VHS spot and also the theatrical trailer:
R.I.P. BOB GUCCIONE
December 17 1930 - October 20 2010
December 17 1930 - October 20 2010
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Comment by Royale
Sin City
Comment by ShaunK
Screen Adventure
It's amazing to see some of the names attached or almost attached also
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Shaun, thanks man! I needed that bone! Yeah, and a little extra, Guccione first approached John Huston to direct, then Lena Wertmuller (who wanted Jack Nicholson in the lead) ... I would've loved to have seen Isabelle Adjani, who tested for the role of Drusilla!
Comment by Deni
Abstract Magick
Cinema Herald
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by Deni
Abstract Magick
Cinema Herald
I was always "aware" of the additional footage. I felt like I was always being "interrupted" and it became a bit frustrating to watch.
As for everything else, all the er...other "stuff" going on, I didn't find it appealing in the least (and of course some parts weren't meant to be) so if the narrative didn't grab me then nothing else would have. It was like going back to 70's fashion and it all seemed outdated. There were some hairy beasties in there. ;P
It's been a few years since I tried watching it...maybe I'll give it another go. Who knows?
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
And the 70s fashion? Well, it was filmed in 1976 after all, and it was a period piece so of course it will seem outdated ... At the same time, it has a theatricality about it too.
Some hairy beasties? For sure, the Romans didn't exactly wax for beauty's sake, and I'm all for realism there.
You know, I get the impression a few years down the track ain't gonna change your opinion on it. Caligula's just one of those movies you either love or hate.
Comment by Deni
Abstract Magick
Cinema Herald
The rest of what I wrote, I was just being cheeky.
Comment by Matt Shea
Comment by JohnDoe
Film & TV on DVD
For all its flaws Caligula is still the most historically accurate depiction of life in this decadent time. The narrative is another thing.
It may not be pretty but i am so glad the film refuses to romanticize and after watching it feels like a glimpse into a time portal.
The campy glee of the spectacle also helps me through the many hiccups in story. I was so glad to see the longer version which filled in much of the confusion from the tamer earlier cuts.
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by ShaunK
Screen Adventure
matt's comment made me laugh about being all tinto brass'd out
Comment by Mountain Fog
Infognito
Screen Trek
QUOTE ME NO QUOTES!
Admittedly, I saw this when it first screened here, and I did love some of the spectacle, but really, they screwed it.
Which was a great pity, as they had the chance to show ancient Rome at its worst, with all the lurid trimmings, while delivering a first rate drama. It would have been a world first and probably others would have followed.
I am glad I now know what went wrong, production wise, so thanks for that detail.
I would love to see it again, in the amended form. If and when I do, I will re-comment here, as my very distant memory was how staged and unrealistic some of the orgy scenes were.
In fact, if I had a few million, I would be very tempted to mount another look into this extraordinary time, there was a lot more than Caligula to entertain. I am presently reading about this period actually, and it is fascinating, and rather terrifying, all at the same time.
cheers and an entertaining and informative post!
fog