Reviewed by Chris R. Morgan
Though my film buffery is meek compared to others, I can say with strong confidence that there is hardly a film, in circumstances alone, that is more unusual than Caligula. Never has there been such a motley crew of artists and otherwise influential people brought together to accomplish a common goal, and never have they been so simultaneously disappointed by the results. Somehow, what was left in the end was a film that had worlds of trouble trying to decide if it was an art film, a historical drama or a hardcore porn film with a bloated budget. What better way to celebrate such a glorious, glamorous and thoroughly gory clusterfuck of cinema than with a three-disc set packed with two different cuts, commentaries from the most famous perpetrators, featurettes, and deleted scenes and alternate takes?
Gaius Julius Ceaser Augustus Germanicus, for those who are fuzzy on their perverted history, ruled for four years in the early BC era and in the dawn of the Roman Empire and did not live to see his 30s. Caligula, to put it simply, was not so much known for his innovative policies—of which there were few, if any—than for his extravagant libertine lifestyle. Caligula spent much of his brief life doing little more than flex his ego and make people miserable, with the exception of his sister Drusilla who he was fucking rather openly. His answer to balancing the economy was to turn the palace into a brothel. His answer to dealing with senatorial inefficiency and bureaucracy was to execute them for the most insignificant of reasons. Though there's much left to historical interpretation (The Caligula of I,Claudius, played to perfection by John Hurt, ate a baby), something irked his inner circle enough to have him killed and Guccione's brainchild feeds freely from such a reputation.
This Caligula is played, with equal flair as Hurt, by Malcolm McDowell, who takes great pains to display the many unpredictable moods of the Emperor. At one moment, he is a charming blue-eyed youth of privilege and good looks, at the next a tyrannical madmen capable of any transgressive perversion. Under the direction of Tinto Brass and the script of Gore Vidal, the life of a Caesar is that of insulation, paranoia, boredom and a significant lack of discipline and moral boundaries. The one aspect that is consistent throughout the film is Caligula's descent into madness (to some, attributed to a form of lead poisoning). To be fair, he never had good influences. His sister (Teresa Ann Savoy), though sane, is an enabler for his rotten behavior, his grandfather Tiberius (Peter O'Toole) is an insane, reclusive pervert. Anyone who has any sense is either killed or ignored.
Many of the common historical happenings are in the film. Caligula's sex fanaticism, his killing of Tiberius, his mockery of his idiot uncle Claudius, making his horse a senator and let's not forget that whole brother business. But history seemed secondary, perhaps not even, under the bank roll of the master of Penthouse. What you get is a fuckfest that interchanges between the lavish and the grotesque which displays one of the many artistic conflicts of the film. Guccione went so far as to drag a cluster of Penthouse pets, most prominently Lori Wagner, back to Rome to refilm scenes that didn't meet his standards of sexiness. Any scene that seems entirely unnecessary and, well, like a Penthouse spread in motion, was done under the direction of Guccione.
What's left is an oddity to say the least. Being that no one was willing to compromise, every single idea from the Penthouse pets as extras to the urination, castration and phallic baby bottles—among other delightfully demented props—are squeezed into the film. It was not all that successful but, according to actor John Steiner, Guccione still made a killing and spent none of his own money to make the film in the first place—he used tax breaks from Penthouse. The film lives on, however, appropriately enough, with a cult following by porn hounds and history buffs alike. It wasn't even a career killer. McDowell, O'Toole and Helen Mirren (who plays the Emperor's obedient wife) all have successful, award-winning careers in film and television.
With this DVD comes a "pre-release" cut that has slightly different scenes and is minus the hilarious opening scene of Caligula and Drusilla frolicking in some kind of forest. Mirren and McDowell even come back to make commentary on the pre-release cut. If you can tolerate the film's excesses, which come in all forms, you'll have a fun evening. Though it's risky, feel free to use it as a kinkiness test for dates. CaligulaTheImperalEdition
Caligula,TheImperialEdition
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