REVIEW: ‘Caligula: The Ultimate Cut’ Is A Depraved Masterpiece

Few director’s cuts have had a gestation period as long as Caligula: The Ultimate Cut. Fewer have been worth the wait. Releasing some 45 years after the debut of the theatrical cut, to understand what makes Caligula: The Ultimate Cut a cinematic miracle requires a bit of a history lesson. In the mid to late ’70s, Italian film director Tinto Brass and legendary American writer Gore Vidal joined forces to tell the story of the rise and fall of Roman Emperor Caligula set amidst a cascade of sex and violence. Their ambitious work was mutilated by financier/Penthouse magazine founder Bob Guccione, who wrestled away control completely only to insert new footage of hardcore sex. Upon its release in 1979, the film was a financial hit as its parade of bad taste attracted curious audiences as much as it repulsed critics.

Thanks to the efforts of reconstructionist Thomas Negovan, Caligula: The Ultimate Cut is finally able to escape the initial version’s cult classic “so bad it’s good” reputation. Caligula: The Ultimate Cut is comprised entirely of never-before-seen footage, be it deleted scenes, alternate takes of existing footage, and a brand-new animated prologue courtesy of comic artist Dave McKean (The Sandman). Aligning closely with Gore Vidal’s original script, Caligula: The Ultimate Cut climbs out of its salacious cocoon to become what it was always meant to be: a genuine masterwork tracking one man’s descent into madness painted on a canvas of hedonism.

Malcolm McDowell turns in maybe his finest performance as the titular Caligula. The heir to his uncle, Emperor Tiberius (Peter O’Toole), Caligula spends his days comforted, romantically, by his sister Drusilla (Teresa Ann Savoy) as paranoia of some unknown future demise nags at his psyche. By design, Caligula: The Ultimate Cut is hard to swallow. And that’s not just referring to the mammoth 178-minute runtime. The ruling class of Rome is portrayed as in a matter-of-fact manner. Our purported protagonist being a spoiled, incestuous playboy is a hard sell for any viewer, yet Malcolm McDowell, in his wide-eyed charisma, makes it work.

The entire first hour of Caligula: The Ultimate Cut feels like a harbinger of the fate that awaits Caligula. As he goes to visit his uncle Tiberius, the scarred, decrepit man is barely existing. He spends most of his time in an opulent pool, sexually serviced by the men and women he keeps around as his little “fishies.”

The image of a man at death’s door, barely conscious in the water, as orgies happen all around him, is one of the many unforgettable shots that cinematographer Silvano Ippoliti deploys to great effect. There’s a sense that this is the natural endpoint of power wielded casually. When Caligula, with the help of Tiberius’ guard Macro (Guido Manari), murders Tiberius, it begs the question: has Tiberius’ fate merely transferred to Caligula?

Caligula: The Ultimate Cut is like watching a joy ride and a car crash happen simultaneously. The languid runtime shows Caligula’s meteoric rise and popularity amongst the people. With each passing second, one can see Malcolm McDowell’s performance transform from a carefree bachelor into a sort of Mad God. The imagery becomes even more boisterous. The tableaus Silvano Ippoliti provides, bathed in marble white and deep reds, framing an impressive amount of extras, tell rich stories on their own. I frequently wanted the film to stop at certain moments just so I could take in the sheer magnitude of what I was looking at. The image of Caligula’s wicked smile as a gaudy decapitation machine trudges across an amphitheater is one of dozens that outright took my breath away.

It must be stated, though, that Caligula: The Ultimate Cut is not for the faint of heart. While there may not be hardcore pornography present in this version, sex is still a major component in this film. There is so much genitalia on the screen at any given moment that some will immediately bow out of proceeding past the 20-minute mark. What Thomas Negovan restores in his version of Tinto Brass’s film is a sense of sex as a lens through which to view the decay of Caligula. Just as Helen Mirren, in an understated performance as Caligula’s bride, starts to change her disposition throughout the film slowly, so does sex move from debaucherous pleasure into a violent method of control for Caligula.

Let it be known to viewers that this film does contain some extremely hard-to-watch sequences. Yet, it all serves a purpose in aiding the character study of the titular emperor. Gore Vidal’s script is something truly special. As the film reaches its final hour, I found myself asking some fascinating questions. Did Caligula become this way because this is how power corrupts? Is this the result of some kind of curse? Or was he always this way? Most importantly: is he even enjoying the hedonism he lives every day? A scene where Caligula’s laughter turns into a pained scream of “I hate them!” will haunt me for the rest of the my days. It doesn’t clarify who “them” is, only the anguish underneath the statement.

Judging by the reviews of Cannes and Fantastic Fest, Caligula: The Ultimate Cut has redeemed the project. I’ll go a step further: Caligula: The Ultimate Cut is an outright masterpiece. The rampant sex and violence that once were used as exploitative tools to draw in audiences are reconfigured as important storytelling tools for an epic chronicle of its titular character’s complete unraveling. There has never been a historical epic like this, and there may never be a historical epic like this. Caligula: The Ultimate Cut is a once-in-a-lifetime, challenging cinematic experience well worth the 45 years spent for it to finally come to fruition.

Caligula: The Ultimate Cut hits theaters nationwide through Drafthouse Films on August 16.