Four corrupted fascist libertines round up 9 teenage boys and girls and subject them to 120 days of sadistic physical, mental and sexual torture.
|Original Title||:||Salò o le 120 giornate di Sodoma|
|Release Date||:||November 22, 1975|
|Production Company||:||Les Productions Artistes Associés, Produzioni Europee Associati (PEA), The Criterion Collection|
|Production Countries||:||France, Italy|
|Director||:||Pier Paolo Pasolini, Beatrice Banfi|
|Writers||:||Pier Paolo Pasolini|
|Casts||:||Paolo Bonacelli, Giorgio Cataldi, Umberto Paolo Quintavalle, Aldo Valletti, Hélène Surgère, Sonia Saviange, Sergio Fascetti, Bruno Musso, Franco Merli, Rinaldo Missaglia, Giuseppe Patruno, Guido Galletti, Efisio Etzi, Claudio Troccoli, Fabrizio Menichini, Maurizio Valaguzza, Ezio Manni, Caterina Boratto, Elsa De Giorgi, Giuliana Melis, Faridah Malik, Graziella Aniceto, Renata Moar, Dorit Henke, Antiniska Nemour, Benedetta Gaetani, Olga Andreis, Giuliana Melis, Faridah Malik, Graziella Aniceto, Renata Moar, Dorit Henke, Antiniska Nemour, Benedetta Gaetani, Olga Andreis|
|Plot Keywords||:||italy, rape, fascism, nudity, bishop, fascist, sadism, torture, sexual torture, libertine, coprophilia, scat, catholicism|
Pier Paolo Pasolini, as is well known, was murdered not long after he finished work on this, his most audacious and confrontational film, yet even the most casual viewing of SALO begs the question - had he not been murdered, would he have taken his own life anyway? Every sequence, every shot and practically every moment of this film is so burdened with despair, barely concealed rage and a towering disgust with the human race, one gets the impression that Pasolini was barely hanging onto life - and any attendant shreds of hope - by his fingernails. Although ostensibly an adaptation of one of DeSade's most depraved works channeled through the horrifying excesses of the Second World War with the Fascist ruling classes as its (authentically vile) villains, SALO also contains a lot of contemporary criticism - Pasolini hated the modern world, and explained the stomach-churning 'banquet of s**t' as a none-too-subtle attack on the encroaching global domination of the fast food chains. (The scenes of sexual excess can similarly be read as a despairing attack on the permissive society - those who come to SALO expecting titillation or B-movie sleaze will be sorely disappointed.) Beyond the nihilistic content, which has been well documented elsewhere, the film has an overall mood that seems to have been engineered to make the viewer thoroughly depressed. Shot on washed-out, faded film stock using primarily static cameras, long shots, choppy editing and very few cutaways, SALO has a visual style reminiscent of cinema-verite documentary. Add to this the unnerving use of big band music, piano dirges and the (intentionally?) scrappy post-dubbed dialogue, and the distancing effect on the viewer is complete. SALO comes across as one long primal scream of rage, designed to shake the viewer out of his complacency, and in this respect, the film succeeds unequivocally. Whether or not you would care to watch this more than once, or indeed for 'entertainment', is another matter, but SALO is an important film that demands a careful viewing ONLY by those prepared for it.