Lorna Irvine reviews the reissue of the 'iconoclastic, provocative' film.
Classic Derek Jarman is truly transformative, as evinced by this reprint of his 1986 account of controversial painter Michelangelo da Caravaggio's life. Iconoclastic, provocative and forever playing with audience expectations, it satisfies on both frivolous and intellectual levels.
A young Dexter Fletcher is amusing in the title role as the callow hedonist learning techniques both sexual and artistic; Nigel Terry even better as the older version- dissolute, sexy and prone to violent impulses. There's vivacious support too from Dawn Archibald, Robbie Coltrane and Nigel Davenport.
Jaraman being Jarman, a straightforward narrative biopic of the artist is eschewed for tableaux vivants and hand-held camera during the wilder excesses. "Nothing,” the artist states in one instance, “is as difficult as simplicity.” This seems like an apt philosophical statement for the film. Even the Pope is portrayed as camp and bitchy when Caravaggio is brought before him to atone for his wild behaviour and to receive patronage. “You've been a bit of a rascal,” he pouts. It is a self-aware reflection by the director- on integrity up against becoming part of the establishment. If only his life was as easy to frame as his subjects.
Jarman's own muse, Tilda Swinton, is ravishing in her debut screen role as the ethereal but tough Lena, caught up in a ménage-a-trois situation with the painter and his new discovery Ranuccio (Sean Bean) but mysteriously drowned after becoming pregnant. The scene between her and Ranuccio on a hammock is erotic, playful and tender all at once.
There is not one scene which does not seduce, with Jarman's eye for detail and form unflinching, with gorgeous set designs and costumes by Sandy Powell. When the film's latter indulgences threaten to engulf the senses, Jarman himself pops up in cheeky cameos, such as his homage to David's Death of Marat: sitting in a bath with a typewriter, he reclines with an impish roll of the eyes, drawing attention to his own supposed shortcomings as an auteur.
This brutal yet beautiful film is being re-released to coincide with the twentieth anniversary of Jarman's death. A post-punk Pasolini and much, much more, he is still missed- the real deal. Bite me, Lars Von Trier.
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