Perhaps it's what the Germans call schadenfreude, but I get an inordinate amount of glee from hearing people actually speak their minds about some piece-of-shit movie they were involved in. There's nothing worse than listening to film makers read from some PR-department-approved script of witty, inoffensive production anecdotes. If I have to hear one more actor say of their director, "He has such a strong vision! He knows EXACTLY what he wants and that's so great for an actor," I may vomit.
You'll forgive me if I've become rather blase about DVD bonus features over the years but, for the most part, they have become interchangeable marketing-material fluff that are about as enlightening as the typical post-game football interview. When I sit down for my fill of DVD extras, I want dirt. I want to hear all the sordid little details about what a prick the director was, how the studio butchered the movie and how the actors refused to speak to one another. Listening to stories of the legendary Bette Davis/Joan Crawford feuds during the production of What Ever Happened To Baby Jane? is a lot more entertaining than hearing about how the cast of TV's Friends really ARE friends in real life.
To that end, I have found the Holy Grail of DVD's: Caligula: Three-Disc Imperial Edition. A good indicator of just how despised this movie was by the cast and crew alike can be found in the opening credits. The writer, Gore Vidal, and director Tinto Brass both sued to have their names removed. Originally titled Gore Vidal's Caligula, the title was changed to Caligula and Vidal's screenwriting credit was reduced to "Adapted from a screenplay by Gore Vidal." Tinto Brass's directing credit was removed and he is now credited with "Principal Photography." Even the editor's names have been removed and the movie's editing is credited to "The Production." Yikes!
For those not familiar with Caligula, perhaps some background is in order. The project began in the mid 1970's when Franco Rosselini and Gore Vidal teamed up with the intention of creating a modestly-budgeted, serious-minded biopic of Caligula, the notorious Roman emperor. Unable to secure financial backing, Vidal, a regular columnist for Penthouse magazine, approached publisher/founder Bob Guccione with the project. Guccione had a slightly different vision for the project: a lavish, big-budget sword and sandals epic crossed with a hardcore sex flick. Yes, that's right: a respectable porno.
Adding ammunition to the argument that writers are whores who will do anything to get their screenplays produced, Vidal accepted Guccione's terms and changed the script in order to sex things up a bit. In the meantime, Guccione saw about 10 minutes of an Italian film called Salon Kitty, directed by a man named Tinto Brass. The topless Nazi women of Salon Kitty convinced Guccione that Brass would be the ideal choice to helm Caligula.
Brass had his own vision for Caligula: a Fellini-esque sex comedy. So, you had a writer who'd written a prestigious costume drama, a producer/financier who was making a big budget porno and a director who intended to fill the screen with Fellinie-esque (read: unattractive) naked people doing unspeakably deranged things. With three creative principals who had such diametrically opposed ideas of what movie they were making, it was a perfect storm for disaster.
Throw into the mix Art Director Danilo Donati who was determined to spend as much money as humanly possible on sets so massive that, in one instance, there wasn't even enough room left in the studio to place the camera, and you've got a runaway production on a scale of epic proportions. The sets Donati constructed, particularly the moving lawnmower-wall that has to be the least practical means of capital punishment ever conceived, are indeed impressive but he, like everyone else involved should have been reigned in by someone, somewhere. Alas, the lunatics had taken over the asylum and there was no one to administer the meds. Drugs yes, meds no.
Through the power of the huge paycheck, the filmmakers were able to persuade actors such as Malcolm McDowell, Helen Mirren, Peter O'Toole and John Gielgud to appear alongside a supporting cast that included 13 Penthouse pets, several hardcore porn stars and a naked cast of thousands. Both Mirren and Gielgud were able to buy new houses thanks to their appearances here.
As filmed by Brass, the movie is wall-to-wall with extreme acts of depravity, both violent and sexual--all of which are shown in explicit detail. At the risk of making a list, we are treated to scenes of: rape, incest, necrophilia, bestiality, castration, anal fisting, torture, mutilation--and much of that happens within the movie's first ten minutes. For some inexplicable reason (note: sarcasm), Bob Guccione felt none of this was particularly sexy so he and a man named Giancarlo Lui snuck onto the set after hours and shot several hardcore sex scenes to be inserted later--as soon as they could fire Tinto Brass and lock him out of the editing room.
The history of Caligula's production has been well documented elsewhere and it's a fascinating study of what happens when a lot of egotists get into a pissing contest. The resulting film is a mess: incoherent as drama, not stimulating as porn. Ironically, coming from Penthouse, it's as a porn movie that Caligula is the biggest failure: it may make you never want to have sex again. I'm sure there are people out there who find this to be an erotic turn-on of a movie but I don't think I really want to know those people. Watching this movie makes me feel dirty and not in a good way. It's far more interesting as a production nightmare than it is as a movie.
To that end, this new DVD box-set of Caligula is awesome. It's the kind of lavish set normally reserved for movies like Gone With the Wind. The first disc contains the movie and a couple of trailers. On the second disc is where the mudslinging begins. Three commentary tracks are included: one features Malcolm McDowell, a second has Oscar-winner Helen Mirren and a third track features Ernest Volkman, the on-set, behind the scenes writer for Penthouse who had unique access to the goings-on. Significantly, the commentaries all accompany a different, pre-release version of the film. It is essentially the same movie but it is a cut that does not include the hardcore sex scenes that Guccione added to the official unrated theatrical cut. Apparently, Malcolm McDowell refuses to watch the theatrical cut and Helen Mirren confesses she'd never actually seen the movie before watching it to prepare for the commentary.
McDowell, who once famously said he felt as though he'd been raped when he finally saw the finished movie, has nothing nice to say about Bob Guccione but says plenty about him just the same. He tells of an instance where the actress, Maria Schneider, became so alarmed at the content of the movie that she quit the production and Guccione wanted to take revenge by having some of "his guys" plant heroin in Schneider's hotel room. Nice. McDowell is complimentary of most everyone else's work but, though he claims to have no regrets about doing the movie, he clearly hates it. It was something of a coup that they were able to get him to agree to do the commentary.
Helen Mirren claims to have loved the movie when she finally watched it. She has generally good things to say about everyone (even Guccione) except for the Penthouse Pets, whose on-set behavior and attitude she found disgusting. Mirren also says she was approached by Bob Guccione to play Catherine the Great in another film but she promptly turned down the role upon being informed she would be expected to perform hardcore sex scenes.
Ernest Volkman's track is probably the best of the three as he seems to have no allegiance with any of the parties involved and holds everyone's feet to the proverbial fire. There was enough blame to go around and, though his commentary only lasts for 90 minutes of the movie's 156 minutes, it's fascinating and dishy stuff.
Disc 3 has interviews with director Tinto Brass and actors John Steiner and Lori Wagner. In his interview, Brass predictably plays the victim; the wronged artist whose movie was stolen. Steiner, who played the supporting role of Longinus and had worked with Brass before, flat-out calls Caligula a "piece of shit" and spends the majority of his interview time discussing everything else he's done in his career and his current real estate business.
Lori Wagner, one of the Penthouse pets, has one of the less dignified stories. With dreams of being a serious actress, she agreed to do the movie because it was to be a speaking part. She ended up with no dialogue but has a couple memorable moments just the same. In the first, she urinates on a dying man and the second is one of Guccione's notorious re-shoots: a lesbian sex scene between her and another of the pets. Wagner's tale of the shooting of this scene is rather nauseating: Thinking the scene wasn't "wet enough," Guccione had the other pet slather Lori's nether-regions with egg whites, giving the scene the slimy look that would ultimately appear onscreen. Pure. Movie. Magic! Lori's partner in the scene went on to sue Guccione for $4 million over her involvement in the movie and the damage the hardcore footage did to her career. She won.
Compare and contrast all the trash-talking on this new DVD with the also included promotional film made during the movie's production. In it, Guccione talks at length about the importance of portraying ancient Rome exactly as it was while, onscreen, we see footage of the above mentioned lesbian sex scene. Apparently, ancient Rome was all about the lesbians. This piece also features interviews with Gore Vidal, obviously shot before he disowned the project.
Also included is a collection of behind the scenes footage, accompanied by music from the original soundtrack. This is where I discovered that there was actually a disco song called "We Are One (Love Theme From Caligula)" that may well be the absolute worst disco song ever recorded. Thankfully, this song was not included in the movie but, if it had been, it may have been the masterstroke that earned Caligula the title: Worst. Movie. Ever. As it stands, it's just pretty bad.
I've spent way too much time this week perusing this DVD set's contents. It is easily the best DVD of a bad movie I've ever seen. If I have one complaint, it is that there are no modern day interviews with Bob Guccione or Gore Vidal. There is so much smack talked about Guccione in particular that it might have been nice to hear his take outside of the vintage promotional piece. However, the creation of this disc came about primarily because of Penthouse's bankruptcy and the selling off of its assets, so Guccione's absence is certainly understandable.
Caligula: Three-Disc Imperial Edition carries my highest recommendation to anyone who is a fan of the film. However, if you are like me, it also carries my highest recommendation to anyone who hates the film but loves catty stories of behind-the-scenes back-stabbing, egos run amok, and the sleazy side of movie making.
Cheers,
Brian