Pasolini (Abel Ferrara, 2014) (Patreon)

Never not interesting, Ferrara's take on the final days of Pier Paolo Pasolini (Willem Dafoe) nevertheless falls squarely into the "interesting failure" column. It's mainly, I think, a problem of reverence. Ferrara seems to be trying to tamp down his usual from-the-hip style of directing in favor of something more stately. But that often leads to trouble; his idea of "stately" equals the Roman statuary silhouetted against the sky, and the stark de Chirico colonnades, that Godard already relegated to parody in Contempt.

And why is the whole film so damned dark? Is Ferrara trying to show us the world through PPP's ever-present European shades? At times, this obscura approach betrays a degree of squeamishness on the part of the filmmaker. Sure, it's tasteful not to show Pasolini getting beaten to death. But Ferrara uses the same non-lighting early on during a cocksucking scene, as if the director's genuine openmindedness butted up against his unconscious aversion to gay sex.

And, well, I think Dafoe turns in a strong performance, but it was too difficult to tell because of the dubbing. I realize this is not only necessary but conceptually correct, given the film is both of and about the Italian film industry. But I've never not found it distracting, and here, when I know the voice I should be hearing and am getting something utterly, well, foreign, it's just too much.

Then again, Pasolini does a whole lot right. By narrowing its focus on a few days toward the end, Ferrara shows us Pasolini as an artist and, more importantly, as a worker. He is writing, editing Salo, giving interviews, picking up boys, and as we see in the perfect final shot, there was a lot left in his day planner. He wasn't finished. And the partially imagined final film Pasolini was starting, which of course gave Ferrara a chance to work with the incomparable Ninetto Davoli, was an exquisite tribute-within-a-tribute, just as the short story Pasolini was reading had its own internal reader. (This relates to Pasolini's theory of free indirect discourse, having embedded characters who quote others characters.)

So in the end, I can see why it took five years for a distributor to bite on this, regardless of Abel's customarily rocky relationships with distribs. But I am quite glad it exists.