Sebastiane

"Sebastiane" is fairly unique in film history, at least prior to Gibson's "The Passion," for its exclusive (and historically correct) use of Latin. That said, it was also a ground-breaker for its sensitive and frank depiction of homosexual desire in a film intended for the non-pornographic market. Potential viewers should be aware that the same-sex sexual content is quite explicit, and that the film would have an NC-17 rating if released in the US today. The film was shot entirely on location in (if I recall correctly) North Africa, and the arid, nearly tree-less landscape lends itself to the storyline quite well. Costuming is minimal, limited to loincloths, helmets, greaves, and gauntlets. The acting is somewhat stiff, probably the result of speaking a "dead" language. But without question, if you are a fan of Derek Jarman and his work, this is a film that should not be missed, if you can find it. I have never seen it on any seller's lists in the US. My own tape of it was obtained in Europe.

While not his strongest film, Sebastiane is classic Derek Jarman. The movie captures the potential for violence and lust in a small group of exiled young soldiers. As with all Jarman, the visuals here are more important than any dialog, and they wash over the viewer in waves of longing and fear-inducing power. The film meditates on intersections of longing, desire, faith and obsession, especially as they play out between Severus and Sebastiane.

Sebastiane's "obsessive" Christian faith rivals the lustful obsession of Serverus for this unattainable man. The movie doesn't flinch from showing how brutal desire can be; it is a hard master for both Serverus and Sabastiane. What I came away from the film with is the powerful question: What horrors and debasements will we all put ourselves through for the object of our lust?

Not being overly familiar with Bible stories or Christian history (and the fact that the opening rolling titles are impossible to read), the factuality of this film will escape me. But Jarman is a visual artist, and his film has more in common with the many paintings of Sebastian than it does with factual storytelling. Jarman's ornate decor can sometimes feel dull and bland -- his films can seem lifeless, bogged down by the set decoration. This calls to mind "Velvet Goldmine," a complex film I didn't care for, even though I love Todd Haynes; I want to like Jarman -- I love his books -- and this is the first film of his that I've been actively enthusiastic about. It has much more to do with sex than history; and it's apolitical and political at the same time.

Consider the film's approach to homosexuality. No one is defined as being a homosexual, so that at first seems like a de-politicization of sex -- all there are are acts, and acts are not political. But at the same time, it's acts that are disdained and made illegal, and without the "political" approach to defining (and thereby defending) people as homosexuals, it leaves the acts open to censorship and condemnation -- politicization. As a film itself, though, it is not pedantic or accusatory -- in fact, Sebastian is killed, it seems, because of the lust of Severus, who he refuses. Like the Christian God who Sebastian loves and sees as more beautiful than Adonis, Severus wants Sebastian. But it isn't just condemning lust, either -- Anthony and Adrian are openly lovers, and the abundance of male nudity, and the eroticism of it by Jarman, could hardly be called prudish. In fact, there is a scene at night of the men grabbing each other, their dark-lit bodies, and the soldier pressing his near-naked, muscled body on his lover, that still seems shocking in its passion today.

It's more like a lyrical tone poem, and Brian Eno's New Age-y score goes well with that. Jarman isn't a bully, and when the crucifying comes around he doesn't bludgeon us -- first we see a close-up of his face, as arrows pierce through Sebastian's skin, silently with the exception of the wind, and Jarman gives us one final distorted image to meditate on the death of the one we can't have. 9/10

Derek Jarman was, like his contemporary Peter Greenaway still is, a visual artist working in film. The usual obsessions of the movie industry didn't occupy him overmuch. Psychology, character development, narrative, plot - all those were secondary considerations, if they were considered at all. The main preoccupation was the expressive power of the the image. To those of us reared on conventional, industrial cinema, this makes Jarman's (and Greenaway's) work both refreshing and frustrating in equal measure.

SEBASTIANE is not, then, a conventional film. It would be misleading to assess it in conventional terms. At times it is jokey, revelling in its low budget and independent spirit. At other times, it is so beautiful it takes your breath away. And at other times it seems to crawl along, with dull acting beneath a luxuriously blue Sardinian sky.

Leonardo Treviglio is a stunning, intense Sebastian, a Renaissance painting come to life. As his tormentor Severus, Barney James successfully conveys frustration and bewilderment behind his icy-grey eyes. Richard Warwick (probably the best known actor, having made a mark as one of the young rebels in Lindsay Anderson's IF...) is quietly impressive as Sebastian's only friend in the outpost. A lot is required of Neil Hamilton as the gruff Maximus, which is a pity because he is unconvincing enough to be a distraction.

Personally, I think SEBASTIANE succeeds as a cinematic study of the isolation at the centre of martyrdom. It doesn't indulge in psychological speculation. It simply depicts some of the temptations, struggles, and sufferings involved. The sensuality of the lives of the other soldiers is at odds with the kind of life Sebastian wants to live. Jarman and his co-director (and editor) Paul Humfress show all this with great clarity.

However, one of the side-effects of such clarity is emotional detachment. We watch as if the film were an installation in an art gallery. Nothing wrong with that, as long as you remember that's what you're looking at. Otherwise you might emerge from SEBASTIANE thinking that it's a failure, a halfway-house between an art-film and a porn-movie. For me, though, it's pretty successful on its own terms. And because it was a pioneering piece of film-making in other ways (Latin dialogue, gay lovemaking, self-conscious anachronisms), SEBASTIANE will always have a place in cinema history.

Remember seeing this film on the big screen in an art film house in Ottawa while I was a student in Visual Arts two decades ago. Absolutely loved it and have pretty clear recollection of most of it, it's amazing! I was a bit blinded by some of the homo-erotic content and had no idea that Jarman would go on to make a number of art-house films, many also dealing with homosexual texts such as Carravagio, a painter I absolutely love as well as Edward the Second, film version of Christopher Marlowe's play of the fay king of England. The acting in Sebastiane may seem stilted but that also might be due to the fact that many of the actors were amateurs; the Latin for me also lent an aura of authenticity since I studied Latin in high-school for five years. The historical accuracy of the life of Sebastian, the saint, was more correct than most of the hagiographies of his life. The settings were perfect, the depictions quite accurate, the drunken scenes were real because they really were drunk. The hand held quality of the film was a pioneering method of filming that also lends to the realism of the period. All in all a wonderfully creative, even innovative, stylised film that I remind to those who enjoy auteur and art-house plus homo-erotic movies. The sound track was done by Brian Eno and was released separately as "Music for a Movie". This is the only part of the film that strikes me as incongruous but somehow the moody style set by Eno's pioneering electronic music does work. Needless to say that Jarman's short filmography is to my mind very impressive.