Review: Caligula: The Ulimate Cut

It only takes a mere skimming of the original theatrical cut of Caligula to realize that the new Ultimate Cut is quite a different movie— at least, in the details. A lengthy series of title cards that kick off the film— which runs around 20 minutes longer than the previously available version— details the production’s turbulent history for the uninitiated. In the 1970s, screenwriter Gore Vidal, director Tinto Brass, and a cast that included Malcolm McDowell, Helen Mirren, and Peter O’Toole set out to make an epic treatise on how absolute power corrupts absolutely. It was, at the time, the most expensive independent film production in cinema history, but making it was fraught from the outset in no small part thanks to producer Bob Guccione, the founder of the men’s magazine Penthouse. Brass rewrote a good deal of Vidal’s script, the latter ultimately not receiving screen credit for his work. In post-production, Guccione kicked Brass out of the editing room and took over the movie, splicing hardcore, pornographic sex scenes in between the footage Brass shot; the director ending up disowning the final product, as did much of the cast.

Poster for “Caligula: The Ulimate Cut” by Bill Sienkiewicz

Caligula was ravaged by critics on its release in 1980, although it was still quite the financial hit. But even its being reevaluated in recent years as a cult classic hasn’t stopped the fascination with what Vidal and Brass’ original vision was, something that film historian Thomas Negovan has attempted to reconstruct with his Ultimate Cut, which he announced in 2020. The most eye-popping statistic about this new edit has little to do with narrative or structural alterations, but more with the fact that— according to those title cards— absolutely no shots from the original cut of the film were reused. Rather, Negovan recovered the more than 100 hours of footage that Brass shot (Guccione said at the time that there was enough film to “make the original Ben-Hur about 50 times over”), using solely deleted scenes and alternate takes to craft a new version of the film that more closely follows Vidal’s original script.

This Caligula still traces the rise and fall of the controversial Roman emperor (McDowell), who eliminates his grandfather (O’Toole) and takes control of the empire alongside his sister and lover Drusilla (Teresa Ann Savoy), decadence and greed quickly giving way to depravity and madness. Both Caligula the film and Caligula the character, by design, have fine lines to straddle: the former between art and exploitation, the latter between pathos and maniacal glee. By excising the extemporaneous sex scenes and replacing more footage of the lead characters, the greatest feat that the Ultimate Cut accomplishes is allowing the performances to really shine. McDowell is still giddily over-the-top for much of the film, but the nuance required of his character to really sell the tragedy of the final act is apparent with much more clarity now. Expanding some of the existing scenes, meanwhile— like the painfully queasy wedding night sequence where Caligula rapes both the virgin bride and her husband— evinces how the character’s impish antics and pathetic nature give away to abject cruelty all the more. And Mirren’s role is greatly expanded; she’s on screen for over half an hour longer in Negovan’s cut compared to the original film. The movie also kicks off with an animated prologue by artist Dave McKean (of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman) that restores a scene present in Vidal’s original script but previously missing that does help set the tone and prevent the film from beginning so abruptly.

Malcolm McDowell as Caligula as Helen Mirren as Caesonia in “Caligula: The Ultimate Cut”

But other editorial choices, while admirable, don’t necessarily correct or improve the previous cut of the film. The use of solely alternate takes results in a lot of long establishing shots that showcase Danilo Donati’s show-stopping production design. Truly, the elaborate sets and and costumes alone, gaudy to an almost unbelievable degree, make Caligula worth seeking out on the big screen. But those vast frames also occasionally hold us back from the characters, while the lengthening of other scenes (again, this cut is even longer than the previous one) slow down the pacing without lending the story more depth. Ultimately, this new take on Caligula is an impressive spectacle to behold, and consistently entertaining, but, like Guccione’s version, still a rather superficial dive into power’s corrupting influence. However, were people ever going to watch a Guccione-financed production splashed with sprawling scenes of sex and violence for a history lecture? Probably not. Negovan does manage to make a little more sense of this story and these characters, in addition to the impressive feat of preserving and restoring so much heretofore never-before-seen footage. That makes Caligula worthy of study and analysis, if not enthusiastic praise.  

Caligula: The Ultimate Cut screens locally in St. Louis at the Hi-Pointe Theatre beginning August 16 and one night only at the Arkadin Cinema and Bar on August 30. Runtime: 178 minutes.

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