Edipo, el hijo de la fortuna

Pasolini tells the drama of a man who knows his destiny from the beginning but does not accept the awareness of evil, tries to escape an atrocious future, but is inevitably entangled in it. The director uses Oedipus, of a classic archetype, to tell the human condition, the inadequacy of those who know they must die, but are unable to accept it.

The Moroccan setting that hides a fantasy Greece, between desert and villages of shepherds, mountains, cities built with clay and destroyed by plagues, is wonderful. A film written in images, dialogues reduced to the essentials, use of captions as in the silent era, intense photography and - for the first time in a Pasolini film - use of color that renders the ocher chromatism of the desert well.

The film have some substantial flaws, especially the storytelling. But the great Pasolini-style shine's brightly throughout the film and Franco Citti is just amazing as Edipo himself.

Oedipus Rex: Oedipus Rex is a haunting experience. The final scene on the city streets is enchanting. The scene in which Oedipus kills three Roman guards is one of the finest tapestries of tension and viscera in cinema. The acting isn't worth mentioning; this film is Pasolini's triumph. It is mainly a triumph of striking and occasionally nauseating imagery. The shifts in time periods are rather tacky and simplistic in retrospect; they are done so gracefully though. The conclusion is pulled together with beautifully written dialogue that only Paolo Pasolini could deliver. The film is not one that is easily forgotten and is sure to be remembered for a long time.

Sophocles' Oedipus Rex is adapted well for the foreign screen. Pasolini, better known for the controversial Salo; 120 Days of Sodom, has kept the intensity level to a minimum while still presenting the perverse qualities for which he would be known for. If you don't know the story (like who doesn't) read the play before seeing the movie - there tends to be a shortage on literature freaks these days. Beautifully filmed, Oedipus Rex begins in modern times, continues sometime BC, and finally ends back in the 20th century; thus presenting a sociological thesis for the viewer. The acting is a bit hammy (seeing Oedipus with a mad streak can be over the top) although the characters are developed well and recite their lines as if on stage. My only complaint is the subtitles seem to blend in with the scenery --- white subtitles against a white background. Therefore, this flaw makes it difficult to enjoy some scenes, and Pasolini's poetry is usually superb. Nevertheless, it's still a great film and is worth a look, especially by people with preconceived hatred for Pasolini's later work -and there's definitely a lot out there.

one of films who remands. the rules of Greek tragedy. the limits of interpretation. the manner to use the myth as contemporary mirror. the art of Piero della Francesca. the conflict between past and present. a film of actors. because each trace of acting defines not the vision of Pasolini about the fate of king from Thebes but its search of truth. the truth - basis of all. Edipo re impress. for atmosphere, for costumes and the use of myth.the eyes of Franco Citti. the presence of Silvana Mangano. the first scenes who are parts from a possible Visconti. the end as warning about the price of fight against yourself. Edipo re is support for reflection. not a new version of well known myth because the important details of myth are insignificant. not example of high art. because it is far to be a show. it is only exploration of meanings. and the sketch about different forms of pride and sacrifice. looking for authenticity. precise definition of life.

Another marvelous film by Pasolini.

No one is as cinematically intense as this man, but it's not an ordinary intensity he affects. It does not result from the withholding of narrative or visual information, it is not primarily a dramatic intensity; Lean, Hitchcock, Kurosawa, all did some terrific work in that external mode where we see the struggling human being in the cleanly revealed world of choices and fates.

Pasolini works his way around all that, starting with one of the most archetypal stories. Here we have anticipation, foreknowledge as fate. And of course there is some dramatic intensity in this and others of his films, but that's not what makes him special. He can create heightened worlds that we experience with a real intensity. It goes back to that film movement called Neorealism which thrived in postwar Italy, where the utmost goal was to soak up a more human, more universal conflict as we staggered through broken pieces of the world.

Looking back now it seems stale, we have a much more refined sense of what is real, we can see the conceit of the camera. But two filmmakers emerged from out of this movement who did work in a more radical direction, moving the images closer to perception.

Antonioni is one of the greatest adventures in film. Pasolini is the other. The larger point with him is to have an intensely spiritual experience of a whole new storyworld, to that effect he selects myths that we have more or less fixed notions about how they should be (this, Medea, his Gospel film) and films them to have invigorating presence in the now.

Every artistic choice in the film reflects that; the dresses, the swords, the landscapes, the faces, it's all intensely unusual to what you'd expect from Greek myth, seemingly handcarved to be from a preconscious world outside maps and time. The camera also reflects that; he could have plainly asked of a fixed camera and smooth, fixed traveling shots from his crew, but evidently he wants that warm lull of the human hand. It's a different sort of beauty, not in some painted image but in our placement in evocative space.

When Oedipus visits the oracle at Delphii, we do not have sweeping shots of some ornate marble structure as you'd expect in a Hollywood film. A congregation of dustcaked villagers is gathered in a clearing before a group of trees, the oracle is a frightening old crone attended by slender boys in masks. The roads are dusty, interminable ribbons dropped by absent-minded gods. A Berber village in Morocco stands for ancient Thebes. Sudden dances. Silvana Mangano. And those headgear! It's all about extraordinariness in the sense of moving beyond inherited limits of truth.

It works. This is a world of divinity, causal belief, and blind seeing into truth that even though it was fated, we discover anew in the sands.

The sequence where a feverish Oedipus confronts his father at the crossroads will stay with me for a long time, the running, the sun, the distance where tethers are pulled taut.