Caligula: The Ultimate Cut (1979)
There are many stories and anecdotes associated with the 1979 film Caligula. Many of which are apocryphal. However, there is absolutely no doubt that this was a troubled production, with artistic differences between the writer, director and producers. Hence the original theatrical release was not the arthouse, historical drama that it was intended to be. Instead Caligula ended up the most notorious multimillion dollar independent film of the seventies. Steeped in violence, hardcore pornography and acts of depravity, yet boasting an A list cast of British and European actors, a screenplay by the legendary Gore Vidal and an established Italian arthouse director, namely Giovanni “Tinto” Brass . This magnificent cinematic car crash of a film has maintained an interest with cult film enthusiasts, as well as scholars of cinema over the decades. This is mainly because there’s an optimistic school of thought that there is a far better film trying to get out.
For those unfamiliar with the film and its associated legend, Caligula was initially conceived as an historical drama about the rise and fall of the controversial Roman emperor. The film stars Malcolm McDowell in the title role, alongside Teresa Ann Savoy, Helen Mirren, Peter O'Toole, John Steiner, and John Gielgud. It was filmed in Rome at Dear Studios during 1976 and was intended to be a serious dramatic exploration of the theme that absolute power corrupts. Writer Gore Vidal wrote an original screenplay based upon historical sources to that effect. However, director Tinto Brass had other ideas and preferred the concept of Caligula being a born monster just waiting for an opportunity. Hence he rewrote the script with an emphasis on the sensational, although he kept much of the original dialogue. However, upon completion of principal photography, producer Bob Guccione (the publisher of Penthouse) took over editing of the film and shot additional pornographic scenes for inclusion in the theatrical cut. Controversy, outrage and lawsuits followed. Caligula then passed into cinematic legend.
Then in 2019, Thomas Negovan was hired to reconstruct a version of the film closer to the initial vision. Using the original camera negatives of 100 hours of footage unearthed in the Penthouse archive, along with an early draft of Gore Vidal’s script, Negovan has assembled a radically different cut of the film using alternate takes and abandoned footage. However, this has still proven a difficult undertaking as there is far from a consensus on what the original intentions of the production were. Was Caligula intended to be a pure historical drama or a stylised exploration of the themes of Roman decadence, filmed via the medium of Italian arthouse cinema? It would appear that Negovan has arrived somewhere between the two positions. There is now a clear thematic thread running through Caligula: The Ultimate Cut with the emperor portrayed as an anarchic free spirit who is consumed by his own desire to push the boundaries of his power. He is enabled by a coterie of sycophants and lackays, as well as political opportunists.
Film aficionados will spot the changes that Thomas Negovan has made immediately. The film opens with an impressive new animated title sequence featuring a young Caligula performing his eponymous dance. This has been created for the film by “Sandman” artist Dave McKean. Numerous key scenes are now shown in chronological order and many of the more infamous and salacious sequences make use of alternative takes. The new edit certainly presents a more nuanced performance by Malcolm McDowell and the actor himself is certainly pleased with the new edit. Helen Mirren has more screen time as Caligula’s wife, Caesonia, although the character is still somewhat underwritten. Overall there is a far more coherent narrative arc and the film no longer feels like a vehicle exclusively created for the depiction of debauchery and violence.
That being said, Caligula: The Ultimate Cut has not been thoroughly sanitised because it is impossible to do so. Hedonism and physical indulgence are baked into the film’s celluloid DNA. There is still a lot of male and female nudity, a double rape and a great deal of violence and tonal unpleasantness. In replacing certain shots with alternate material, the exploitative aspect of some scenes has been replaced with a somewhat colder and more clinical tone, which in some respects makes them more shocking. Especially the notorious fisting scene and the assassination at the end of the film, which involves an infanticide. Cinephiles will also lament the replacement of Bruno Nicolai’s original score along with the classical cues by Prokofiev and Khachaturian, with a new soundtrack by Troy Sterling Nies. It is nothing more than functional, where the original matched the baroque tone of the film.
Overall Caligula: The Ultimate Cut is probably the best cut of the film we’re ever likely to see. Has Thomas Negovan’s extensive reconstruction revealed a lost masterpiece amid the decadence and depravity of the previous theatrical edition? Not quite. The film remains a cinematic chimaera that veers between high drama and exploitative excess. It just does so in a far more coherent and efficient fashion this time round. It does highlight the baroque production design by Danilo Donati and showcase a far more rounded performance by Malcolm McDowell but this is never going to be a film that finds mass, mainstream appeal. This legendary production will remain a source of fascination for scholars of cinema but is ultimately too “out there” to become an accepted part of the established pantheon of arthouse masterpieces. It is a unique product of its time and now in this new version, a cinematic curate’s egg rather than a hot mess.
