CALIGULA - DVD review

When John J. Puccio reviewed the unrated version of "Caligula"--the 156-minute cut with triple-x graphic sex added by Penthouse publisher Bob Guccione, the film's executive producer--he wrote that it was "without any redeeming social value. It's bad history, bad filmmaking, and bad pornography, too."

Nearly 30 years after it was made, "Caligula" continues to shock. But even more shocking than the film's graphic sex--fellatio, cunnilingus, hand-jobs, masturbation, fingering of genitalia, mechanical phalluses, sodomy, pedophilia, beastiality, necrophilia, and orgies staged with all the lavishness of grand old Hollywood musicals--is that this new "Three-Disc Imperial Edition" offers some pretty reasoned and unapologetic commentaries from stars Malcolm McDowell (who played Caligula) and Helen Mirren (yes, "The Queen"!, who played Caligula's empress, Caesonia). In fact, their commentaries are so generous and high-minded that it all but gives everyone permission to include this title in their own video collections now, without feeling like a perv.

Mirren calls it "an irresistible mix of art and genitals" and says that making the film was "like being on an acid trip that has both its good and bad moments." Mirren and a handsome two-color, 14-page booklet remind us that this film started out with all the legitimacy of an heir to the throne, and that the script that was shot was still largely the one that Gore Vidal provided. That's why the project was able to attract an A-list that still looks big. In addition to McDowell and Mirren there's Peter O'Toole, who plays the syphilis-ridden Emperor Tiberius; John Gielgud, who plays the wise counselor, Nerva; and Teresa Ann Savoy, who plays Julia Drusilla, Caligula's sister. Vidal would eventually ask that his name be removed from the project after learning that Guccione wanted to bring in his Penthouse Pets and add more graphic sex scenes.

So is this the definitive edition of what's been called the most expensive ($15 mil) porno film every made? Not according to R.J. Buffalo, co-author of a work-in-progress on "Caligula," who writes that some 50 percent of the original footage is missing. "If you run across any leads of variant versions, missing footage, missing soundtrack or missing publicity stills, please contact . . ." Buffalo says. He offers a complete history of the film's problems and lawsuits, all of which, frankly, sounds much more intriguing than the movie.

Ahh, the movie. John called it "bad history, bad filmmaking, and bad pornography." I'm going to pass on passing judgment on the latter, since the only pornographic film I've seen was "Debbie Does Dallas," way back when I was young enough to fantasize that Debbie and her friends might also do my town. I will say this, though: If good pornography, like good sex itself, involves a build-up of tension to heighten the "moment" of release, then there's not much of that here. The first T&A comes shortly after the one-minute mark, and we only have to watch young Caligula and his conquest for about 20 seconds before he's pawing her and we're seeing just about every part of her body. When there is sex in this film, it's jump-right-in, slam-bam, thank-you-viewers sex that's so in-your-face and excessive that I'm guessing it'll shock more people than it will arouse.

Bad filmmaking? As Buffalo explains, any version of the film--and two are provided here, the unrated version with Guccione's added footage and a pre-release cut that omitted the graphic stuff--will seem jarring because too many hands were at work. Director Tinto Brass wanted one thing, writer Gore Vidal wanted another, and money-man Guccione did all sorts of tampering with the film. The result, even in this quasi-definitive set, is that there are numerous gaffes, among them, Buffalo writes, nine major audio errors, a bizarre sequence reworked into a nightmare vision, eight sequences that are fragments of missing scenes which have no context, seven shots of Guccione's and his filmmaker friend Giancarlo Lui's footage in place of Brass's, four instances of scenes cut off abruptly, and three crucial scenes missing TOTALLY--hence the call for help. If that isn't evidence of bad filmmaking, I don't know what is. And from a neophyte's seat, the film is simply boring. It feels as if we've just wandered onto Guccione's version of the Hugh Hefner Playboy mansion parties, with cavernous sets lit as if it were a Halloween gala and everyone dressed in togas. Does it evoke ancient Imperial Rome? Not to me, and I was a bit of an expert on Ancient Rome in a previous lifetime, when I collected and exhibited Roman Imperial coins.

Most of what we know of the first 12 Caesars comes from historian Suetonius, who spent as much time chronicling the "good" Caligula as he did the "bad." The turning point, according to another ancient named Philo, was a near-death experience that Caligula had which changed him from a reasonably committed Emperor to one that should be committed. There were abuses--Suetonius accuses him of having incest with his sisters and forcing them to have sex with other men--along with Suetonius's suggestion that Caligula himself may have hastened Tiberius's death so that he could rule. That's faithfully depicted in the film, but most of what we see is purely speculation. So many people walk around naked in this film--both Romans and slaves--that you begin to wonder why ANYONE bothers to dress. It's as if Guccione went with the clichéd depravity that led to Rome's fall, without bothering to consider that this was fairly early in the Empire, long before the widespread wanton licentiousness that hastened its end.

Listening to McDowell's comments--he begins by saying "God help us!" and gradually settles in and feels comfortable with the film--one suspects that this is the sort of production that was more fun to make than it is to watch, something all but confirmed when Mirren bemusedly recalls how excited all of the male actors got when they learned the Penthouse Pets were arriving as fresh meat to ogle and fondle. Indulgent? Yes. But to Guccione's credit (and this is the only thing I can give the man credit for), there are as many shots of male genitalia as there are female, and just as much "pleasuring" of females as there is males. Call it "equal opportunity" pornography, gender-wise.

When all is said and done, though, it's a disappointing film, despite some fine performances by the marquee actors. The courtly intrigue isn't nearly as fascinating as it was in "I, Claudius," the sets are nowhere near as believably realistic as they were in "Rome," and scenes seem more snippets than sequences that build toward our understanding of character and a sense of plot inevitability (don't blame Vidal for this, since the film was butchered so). Even if some of the sex scenes aroused you, you'll find yourself fast forwarding to get to the next one, and then going back to the first and finding it wasn't all that great after all.

If you like "Caligula," this is the version to own, because both the unrated and a pre-release copy are included--the latter coming closest to the director's vision. But the real reason to buy this version are the star commentaries. They're pretty amazing.

Video:
The cover notes boast that this was remastered in High Definition, and while it looks better than what John described in his review of the first release, there's still the kind of fuzziness that looks like the cinematographers tore a page out of the Penthouse photography book and wiped a little Vaseline on their lenses to give it a softer look and hide blemishes. It's a still a little fuzzy and still a little grainy--though apparently not nearly as bad as the first transfer to disc. "Caligula" is presented in its original theatrical aspect ratio of 2.00:1, enhanced to fill a 16x9 television screen.

Audio:
Two audio options are provided, an English Dolby Digital 5.0 Surround and a Dolby Digital 2.0 Mono. Neither is particularly impressive. There's an overall flatness to the sound that makes it seem more ancient than the set decoration would have us believe.

Extras:
Big-time bonus features here, as a tawdry little sensationalized title gets the sensational film treatment. The three-disc set gives you the unrated (xxx) version on the first disc, and the pre-release version that comes closer to the director's vision on the second disc-which is also where you'll find the commentaries by Malcolm McDowell and Helen Mirren, who are joined and prompted by a film historian. On-set writer Ernest Volkman also provides a commentary of the craziness that went on behind the scenes, and there are new video interviews with director Tinto Brass and actors John Steiner (who played Longinus) and Lori Wagner (who played Agrippina). Commentaries by Mirren and others make this worthwhile.

Also included are two versions of a "making of" documentary, roughly 15 different deleted scenes and behind-the-scenes "peeks," and "hundreds of astonishing, never-before-seen photographs from the set. Well, I have to tell you that most of this stuff is pretty tame. There's some nudity in color and black and white of the Isis Pool scene and Galley Brothel, but aside from that there's no skin to be seen--not even in the still photographs. So don't buy this set thinking you're going to score a stash of new porn. The film is the thing, and the extras, apart from the commentaries and interviews, are only of marginal interest.

Bottom Line:
I won't disagree with John's assessment of the film. He gave it a 2 out of 10, but the Three-Disc Imperial Edition rates higher because of the commentaries, the history of the infamous project, and the two versions that are included--especially the pre-release cut that's as close to a director's cut as we now have. I love films about ancient Rome, but this one seemed about as real as a wooden sestertius.