Where to begin on this infamous film? Shot in 1976 and released in 1980, Caligula was directed by arthouse provocateur Tinto Brass. Written by Gore Vidal and funded by Penthouse founder Bob Guccione, Caligula became one of those unfortunate films that was messed with by someone who should not have had editing or final cut privileges. But throughout film history, huge egos with money have done exactly that.
In the case of Caligula, Guccione went beyond most interfering suits, if you could call him that, and secretly shot pornographic footage on the sets at night. He then had this footage cut into the film, resulting in a wild ride, to say the least.
The film stars Malcolm McDowell (A Clockwork Orange) as the young man who grows into a crazed emperor in classical Rome. His grandfather Tiberius Caesar, played by an immensely shouty Peter O’Toole (Lawrence of Arabia), is dying, and Caligula is summoned to his palace, notified that he’ll be the successor after the offscreen, backstory deaths of his family. Only Caligula and his sister Drusilla, whom have an incestuous relationship, remain unscathed. It seems that in Rome A.D. 37, society is still half-feral at least, and for the initiated, we’re in pre-Shakespearean territory.
Note that in Caligula: The Ultimate Cut, there’s an animated prologue about the deaths in Caligula’s family, animated by famed illustrator Dave McKean in Rome A.D. 19. While cool to look at, I didn’t feel like this added much to the story.
Anyway, in “current time,” Rome A.D. 37, after getting a tour of one of his grandfather’s Hieronymus Bosch-type orgies, Caligula happens upon the depraved Tiberius in bed, looking absolutely dead, ahead of schedule. He pries off the elderly man’s huge, gold Emperor ring and tries it on, instantly falling in love with being the most powerful man on the planet at this time. We’re talking everything every single megalomaniac dictator has ever wanted and tried to be, and at this point in world politics and history, it seems that everything old is new again, hopefully not for much longer.
However, Tiberius awakes from his brief stint in the void and demands his ring back. You can see the gears turning in the extremely talented McDowell’s head as he ponders certain outcomes, and as Caligula, he hefts up a golden mirror, poised to murder his ailing grandfather. The head of the army, General Macro, gently takes the mirror from him in a pivotal moment. It appears that he’s preventing murder.
In the next minute, Macro smothers Tiberius himself, taking the blood off Caligula’s hands and therefore enabling the extremely dangerous, budding sociopath. It’s men like these who don’t stop the worst among us. And it’s one way to ensure you keep your job. Macro pledges fealty to Caligula, and they lock lips in quite the intense kiss.
Caligula, the film, is full of great twists and conflicts throughout, and in the shadows, Caligula’s young cousin Germanicus has witnessed the murder. Instead of murdering the boy, Caligula adopts him, as he does not yet have an heir and though he’s in love with his sister Drusilla, it’s probably not the best idea for them to procreate.
The film is staged like the finest West End plays in London, with massive, beautiful, and intricate sets. At the time, this film was the most expensive independent film ever made, and it shows. (I haven’t researched, but now that title is likely taken by Francis Ford Coppola’s Megalopolis.) While Caligula didn’t have the benefit of incredible CGI dragons and present-day technology, the story out-thrones Game of Thrones and Lord of the Rings in its viciousness, greed, and debauchery.
Truly, the story of Caligula is a vulgar display of power.
With what happened next, though, I put down my notes and was mesmerized by the following next twenty minutes of insanity for the “bread and circus” segment of the film. After having the Senators pledge loyalty not only to himself but to Drusilla, Caligula asks Germanicus to point out who killed Tiberius. The scared kid points out Macro. Caligula tries to get the army on his side. When they’re silent, he orders his financial chief, his master of the coin, Longinus, to pay every soldier ten pieces of gold. He’s got them now, and has Macro arrested for the murder of Tiberius.
In the next scene, a spectacularly murderous set piece, a moving wall with horizontal, circular blades in the Coliseum, removes the heads of the men buried in the ground, a helpless Macro among them.
It’s all spectacle and control.
And I just have to mention the incomparable Helen Mirren, apparently playing the harlot of Rome, who becomes Caligula’s wife. What a talented cast. I have four more pages of notes on this film, but it’s probably best if you watch it for yourself instead of me regurgitating the plot.
The 4K restoration of Caligula: The Ultimate Cut is gorgeous, adding clarity to the story’s absolute ferocity. There’s only an early scene or two which doesn’t look terrific. Overall sound is flawless. The work of new editor and producer of this cut, Thomas Negovan, is sheer magic. Tinto Brass and Gore Vidal’s story is far, far stronger than Guccione’s theatrical cut. (I put that on, and while the core story is the same for half the film, after which I shut it off and went to bed, it’s not half as good as the new cut.)
Dare I call Caligula: The Ultimate Cut a masterpiece. What a difference an edit can make. It’s night and day. The score from Troy Sterling Nies is also new and fantastic.
There are a few commentaries here which I haven’t been able to check out yet, but there’s a short featurette on the differences between the theatrical cut print found in a Massachusetts warehouse versus what seems like an extra porny home video release version of the film.
If you’d like to add Caligula: The Ultimate Cut to your own home video library, you can rent or buy it via Drafthouse Films and Unobstructed View. It’s highly recommended for those who appreciate fine acting and story mixed with the kind of operatic, abhorrent violence that only men can do.