Let’s begin with the description of Pier Paolo Pasolini‘s Salo, or The 120 Days of Sodom as described by Criterion:
The notorious final film from Pier Paolo Pasolini, Salo, or The 120 Days of Sodom has been called nauseating, shocking, depraved, pornographic… It’s also a masterpiece. The controversial poet, novelist, and filmmaker’s transposition of the Marquis de Sade’s eighteenth-century opus of torture and degradation to Fascist Italy in 1944 remains one of the most passionately debated films of all time, a thought-provoking inquiry into the political, social, and sexual dynamics that define the world we live in.
The first thing I want to address is any references to this film as “pornographic“. This film is not pornographic, that is, unless the person making the statement actually found it to be erotic or stimulating in some way or is assuming others will look at it as pornography. In my opinion, pornography is about intent and I don’t believe there is any intent here to titillate or stimulate the viewer erotically.
I don’t believe anyone could look at this with the new fangled (and occasionally appropriate) definition of “torture porn” considering Salo‘s subject matter is not intended to give the audience any level of horrific gratification, certainly not if you were to compare it to such films as Saw and/or Hostel. Fetishists may find something, but now we’re really opening a can of worms…
As for it being “nauseating,” “shocking” and “depraved“… Yeah, I can go along with that.
Will I ever watch it again?
No, I don’t believe I will.
Am I glad I watched it at least once?
I guess?
That final question is really the one that sticks with me the most. So often if I review a general audience crowd-pleaser and pan it there will be someone that comes along and says, “It’s supposed to be entertaining. You’re over-thinking it. Stop taking yourself so seriously. You just can’t have fun.” On and on it goes.
What I’m trying to say is just when does a movie stop being fun and become something else entirely? Is that a line that needs to be drawn? Can all films not be approached equally, expecting the very best from those that made it no matter their intentions? And once you reach that level of acceptance how far are you willing to go to challenge yourself, and how far do you want your filmmakers to go to challenge you?
I will never watch The Human Centipede or the recently released The Human Centipede II (Full Sequence). Why would I want to watch that? What purpose do films involving a deranged doctor sewing people’s faces to other people’s rectums serve? Am I being closed minded to suggest nothing can be learned from watching such a film?
After watching Salo, a film in which the eating of human feces takes up approximately 20 minutes of the film’s running time (that said, you may not want to watch the not safe for work clip to the right), I think I can still safely say there is a point to be found in Salo that will never be found in The Human Centipede.
Perhaps that’s me being ignorant, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s me being a snob, choosing to watch the film released on Criterion Blu-ray, marking my introduction to a famed Italian director, poet and writer whose imagery in this film was meant to provoke a response as he explores fascism, sadism, perversion and ignorance using the Marquis de Sade‘s “The 120 Days of Sodom” as inspiration. As someone that’s never read de Sade’s book and doesn’t know much about Mussolini’s regime in the Republic of Salo, I can still see what Pasolini was going for here. Can as much be gained by watching The Human Centipede? I have my doubts.
I had only heard Salo was depraved before seeing it this first time. I knew nothing of the depravity or its content going in. The first hour is actually quite tame. In fact, tame to the point I wasn’t quite sure what everyone was talking about. The final 56 minutes, however, grow increasingly vile leading up to a final 5-10 minutes that really puts the icing on the cake. Once it ended, I was left to stare blankly at the screen.
The first thought that came into my head wasn’t “Wow, that was nauseating, shocking and depraved,” though those thoughts went through my head while watching. Instead, I wondered, “Why was that made?”
It was at that moment I realized Pasolini had succeeded. It was also at that moment I couldn’t help but admit that Human Centipede writer/director Tom Six had succeeded, at least in some way. He succeeded, at the very least, in getting me to consider and discuss his movie. However, I think once you’re willing to ask the question, a film’s merit depends even more on the answer.
As I was hitting play on Criterion’s new Blu-ray presentation of the film I made a post on Facebook, announcing the beginning of my journey, asking anyone that had seen it to give their thoughts. Here are a few of the responses:
“It’s a journey of depravity, but so well shot that it really makes you think. Just go in and take it in. But beware, imagery is pretty harsh.” – James McCormick
“I bought it at Scarecrow. When leaving, the guy said “enjoy”. He caught himself and said nevermind.” – Grant Potter
“Not a pleasant experience for me….the disturbing images almost overshadow its deep subtext…” – Amit Khaira
“It’s a bit rough. Though provoking for sure. It’s a film I know is a masterpiece, but the imagery is so striking, it’s sometimes hard to see through it… but somewhat the point as well.” – KoKo Love Summer
As I said before, I don’t know much about Marquis de Sade or Mussolini’s regime in the Republic of Salo and I’ll add to that I did not enjoy watching Salo. It wasn’t fun as people have told me movies are meant to be. However, it was extremely thought-provoking and I think it carries a message that will echo throughout the ages. That message may not likely ever be approached with such unabashed realism again, but that, of course, is the reason people are still talking about Salo today.
Now, I have to go explore the special features and the 80-page booklet Criterion includes with the release. A booklet my girlfriend picked up last night, an experience that went something like this…
“What’s this? Salo, or The 120 Days of Sodom?” she asked.
“Yeah, that’s a movie I won’t ever make you watch with me,” I said as she began flipping through the pages.
“Why is everyone naked? She’s naked, that person is naked, and now a man… with a small penis… Oh my god, they’re cutting off that person’s scalp… Why would anyone ever watch this?”
No, this movie isn’t for everyone and I don’t believe I will ever watch it again, but the message remains. Just through that brief introduction a conversation can begin. Isn’t that what art is meant to do?
If you’re up for the challenge you can buy Salo, or The 120 Days of Sodom on [amazon asin=”B0019X3ZZY” text=”DVD”] or [amazon asin=”B005D0RDO8″ text=”Blu-ray”] at Amazon, though I would hardly blame you if you didn’t.
