Caravaggio

Derek Jarman has crafted a beautiful and unique work of art in "Caravaggio". Perhaps the fact that I have a great love for the work of the real Michelangelo Caravaggio, influences my judgment just a bit; It was quite enjoyable to see the paintings come to life, and to witness how they might have actually been created. In fact, much of Jarmans poetic film has the look of a lush, living painting. There is much to admire here besides the aesthetics; the talented and beautiful cast, led by Nigel Terry, the intense-looking Sean Bean, as Ranuccio, and the elegant Tilda Swinton, as Lena; the woman loved by two very passionate, and tormented men. The acting is all around excellent, but Nigel Terry as Michelangelo really stands out. He is great to watch, and brings life to a man the world knows not so much about. Also actor Dexter Fletcher was quite funny and likable in his portrayal of the younger Caravaggio. More than a historical, biographical account of the painter, this is more the study of a classic love triangle. Caravaggio's models were mostly street people, many of them also criminals, and it seemed that he often became personally involved with his subjects. His love for 'Lena' seems to be as strong, if not stronger, than his love for 'Ranuccio'. And this divided love has tragic consequences, for all involved. I didn't find "Caravaggio" an overly gay film, as the subject wasn't focused on obsessively, like other films of this nature tend to do. The love affair between Lena and Michelangelo was given as much attention as the relationship between him and Ranuccio. Therefore those who might feel a little uncomfortable with the subject matter, need not be, as it is actually quite accessible. Recommended, especially for admirers of the painter Caravaggio. As mentioned earlier, there are scenes that are modeled exactly on the paintings. To see these come alive is really something to behold. There is a new region 2 DVD from Germany that features the most beautiful transfer I have ever seen of any film. It comes close to "High Definition" quality, I recommend this as well.

This is not a mainstream movie. You may be very distracted by the presence of jokey 20th century anachronisms in this otherwise grave movie about the artistic genius, Caravaggio. 17th century merchants use hand-held calculators, modern instruments play at the parties, local scribes use typewriters, servants dress in modern dinner jackets. I sure don't know what it all means. I guess you can impute many meanings to it.

You may also be irritated by the director in his insistence that everyone is motivated by homoerotic impulses. This facet of the presentation is really more about Derek Jarman than Caravaggio.

Well, I'm not sure that the movie has much to say about Caravaggio at all. After all, Caravaggio shocked his era with his revisionist hagiography - saints with peasant faces, torn clothes and dirty fingernails - probably realistic but iconoclastic in its time, and contrary to a century of previous tradition. Moreover, Caravaggio almost invented the modern system of a consistently represented light source, showing the actual impact of light on his subjects. These key points are barely touched by the script.

But I think you probably should just let those irritations wash over you, and accept the movie for what it is. It uses the style and mood of his paintings to reflect his life, and it incorporates that precise aesthetic into the movie's own visuals. The movie looks like what Caravaggio's own moving pictures might have looked like if he could have created them in 1600.

Is it a good movie? Who knows? It's not so well remembered after a decade or so, but it exhibits a memorable gift for creating and sustaining a mood, and for breathing life into Caravaggio's canvases. It also speculates about the everyday life that must have circulated around the creation of those masterpieces.

I was willing to forgive a lot of artistic pretension and rhetorical dialogue for the superb visuals and atmosphere, and I took vivid memories away from the film. You may feel the same way.

I tend to define myself as an artist and I consider my mind broad enough to welcome any artistic license coming from a director whom I also consider an artist... but when a historical biopic supposedly tells you the story of an artist of the caliber of Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio and by some burst of inspiration, the director Derek Jarman decides to insert anachronistic details that go from people wearing suits, tuxedos or sights as incongruous as a bike or a typewriter... I can help but feel a certain resistance to whatever should appeal to me at that moment. To put it simply, that turned me off.

We're speaking of a few random scenes that didn't affect the story in a way or another, and their needlessness made me even angrier... I know there's a way to interpret everything, maybe some iconoclastic approach to a man who himself was a revolutionary painter and initiator of the Baroque school, with its high contrast of lights and dark shadows and very expressive style, maybe it was Jarman's ambition to pay tribute to the painter and the project took him so long and underwent so many incidents he didn't care for realism, using the 'Italy of his memory' according to his photographer, but there are so many magnificent shots in the film that recreate the texture of the latest years of the Renaissance and even the color of the initial painting that my mind kept wondering Why? What was the purpose to all that?

Now, I've said it... and having said that, I can say that I enjoyed the look of the film and its recreation of some of Caravaggio's paintings, not that I could recall them all, in fact, I'm not familiar with his work but that didn't matter at all, any scene could have been painting material and last films to made me feel that were "Barry Lyndon" and "Cries and Whispers" (with its long contemplative monologues told in voice-over, the film did have a Bergmanian quality of its own). The use of contrast, the dust and even the dirt looked somewhat appealing creating a sort of shadowy texture that enriched the skin complexion, it's a marvel of recreation and the first twenty minutes had me literally hooked. The part with Dexter Fletcher playing young Caravaggio (the one who impersonated Bacchus in a famous painting) with the ambiguous strange relationship going with a Cardinal (Michael Gough) was my favorite.

The second part is more of a ptachwrok of scenes where it's difficult to keep a certain feeling of continuity but we get the attraction between the painter (now older, played by Nigel Terry) and two models (Sean Bean who's way too good looking not to be distracting ) and Tilda Swinton. The scenes works so well visually but the narration keeps us in the shadow, and maybe it betrays the fact that Jarman was so immersed in his character that he only left us a few breeches to wriggle through, as a character study, I didn't find the passionate artist or whatever wood made the fire of his creativity burn, the passion was there but it was diluted in that feeling of detachment, of randomness that made it very hard to follow... it's hard to make movies about painters, to understand their painting, you've got to see their vision, to hear their mind and I guess I simply couldn't connect myself and my mind was stubbornly sticking to these iconoclasts details that they gave me the feeling tat Jackman didn't care for authenticity, only for mood.

In my prime as a movie watcher, I would have given the film another 'chance' (or myself) but I don't think I would get it any better, anyway, it is a good film but looks more like an art-house for which the word 'pretentious' was invented, a picture meant for students, rather than a biopic for the average watcher. I didn't like the film for several reasons and perhaps the most vivid one is that it makes me feel like a conventional schmuck who can't enjoy art or understand it. I wouldn't call it pretentious but there's something rather vain in the way one appropriate himself a character and twists his life like that, even for the sake of art. Or maybe to use a hackneyed version, I didn't get it and now, I'm among the users who rated the film low enough to earn it a rating above 7...

Quite simply unlike any other biographical film you will ever see, Derek Jarman's acclaimed production of Caravaggio (1986) is a lovingly constructed, highly personal cross-reference of tormented sixteenth century genius, twentieth century iconography and a somewhat satire on the shallowness of the burgeoning eighties' art scene of which Jarman was very much part of. Exploring Caravaggio's life through his work, the film distinctively merges fact, fiction, legend and imagination in a bold and confident approach that will probably leave serious art enthusiasts and casual viewers outraged by the complete disregard for accurate, historical storytelling.

Shot with a typically avant-garde approach, director/writer Jarman doesn't so much fashion a biography of the artist, but rather, creates a personal reflection of the man using intimate characteristics that appeal to his film-making sensibilities. This makes Caravaggio more of an interpretation of the filmmaker than the artist himself; somewhat self-indulgently focusing on Caravaggio's struggle with bisexuality, perfectionism and wanton obsession; perhaps even glossing over the more intricate workings of the character, for instance, his own passion for art and his battles with the various religious and creative constraints of the period.

It's a shame some of these ideas aren't further elaborated upon, because, at its heart, Caravaggio is really an exceptional film. As I commented earlier, it's perhaps unlike any other film you will ever see; an iconoclastic vision with a cinematic imagination that knows no bounds. Caravaggio is a film in which a 16th century setting gives way to the various anachronisms of passing trains, tuxedos, motorbikes, typewriters and chic nightclub settings. It is a film in which every frame is rendered in reference to the artist's work, composed with rich, shadowy colours that bring to mind the contrast between fresh and rotting fruit, and an unrivalled interplay between sound and production design that is reminiscent in its intense savagery of two dogs angrily ripping each other to pieces.

There is no other 'based on fact film' that has demonstrated such a wild and evocative recreation of real-life hysteria and events, with the possible exception of Peter Jackson's masterful Heavenly Creatures (1994) or even some of Jarman's subsequent projects like Edward II (1991) and Wittgenstein (1994). With a cast of now very well known faces, such as Nigel Terry, Sean Bean, Tilda Swinton, Michael Gough, Dexter Fletcher and Robbie Coltrane - not to mention some of the most beautiful photography ever committed to film - Caravaggio represents an impressive and enjoyable combination of art and cinema that is now, twenty years on, ripe for rediscovery.

Caravaggio (1986)

It's easy to be frustrated by movie that seems by its title to be one thing but is so clearly something else. This is no bio-pic of the great artist. It doesn't even create (to me) a more abstract sense of what it might have meant to be such an artist, or to be creative and tormented and a scrappy, sometimes ill man.

Instead it's a movie that uses some themes, and some paintings, of Caravaggio and builds a completely invented (to my knowledge) story line. For one thing, it's set in some fairly recent time--the 1920s or 30s, perhaps? And it's highly highly British, which is no flaw, but it feels part of a 1980s London underground in the expressions and vocabulary. If you can open up to all that, you've made a first step. If you can't, forget it. Run to another version (like the terrific new Italian one from 2007).

The second step is key, too, however, for many of you. This is an overtly homo-erotic, or at least homosexually charged fantasy. It has no overt sex (though there is lots of kissing all around) and it does includes some female actors (including a fabulous Tilda Swinton), but there are lots of "pretty boy" scenes and a sensibility that is just frankly different than the usual film world mainstream.

That's a great thing. That doesn't however make the movie completely work. It's worth watching if you are prepared for its tone, and it's brilliant in some sense, utterly original, a kind of high production value, high culture flip side to the films of Andy Warhol (if that makes any sense at all). There are excesses in violence, bloody, death, love, corporal pleasure and corporal torture--but these are exactly what the 1980s were all about. Think of Robert Mapplethorpe.

It's not my own world at all, but I found it a kind of thrill to see made so rich and colorful, so unexpected every turn. And so photographically beautiful. It is at times disturbing and moving, but mostly it is pretty and fascinating. It lacks a more usual structure, but you get used to that and learn to like it.