It’s been 35 years since the release of Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom, the notorious final film of Italian director Paolo Pasolini. The passage of time has done little to change the movies reputation as one of the most depraved, gruesome and sickest projects ever committed to celluloid. A tonally faithful adaption of the Marquis de Sade’s novel, Salò, set in Fascist Italy is the story of a small group of libertine Italy aristocrats who kidnap 18 young men and women and subject them to various forms of sexual depravity.

SaloMany have praised Salò for its courageous bourgeois surrealism, disdaining class systems and mans power over others. Pasolini puts everything on the table, showing us some of the most despicable acts imaginable including bondage, forcing people to eat feces, body mutilation and of course lots of sodomy. While Pasolini may have been making a statement about class systems, one does wonder if he might have been exercising his personal fetishes on screen.

Salò doesn’t offer anything of consequence in terms of narrative or character development. Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the story is that the torturers never get their comeuppance. As such, you’re forced to wonder, what was the purpose of it all? I tend to believe Pasolini was just trying to see how far he could push the boundaries of art and cinema. The final moments of torture before the captives are executed are truly horrific. Thus the film becomes an extremely graphic metaphor for the degradation of man and civilization.

Setting aside the debauchery, Pasolini and cinematographer Tonino Delli Colli (Once Upon a Time in America), photograph the nudes with a surprising level of sophistication. The imagery throughout borders on the fascinating the site of the naked men and women on leashes crawling up the stairs is one you won’t soon forget. The more reserved photography and classical Roman art direction blend rather well together.

Salò is not the kind of kind of film to be enjoyed. For those who can stomach it, Pasolini surely meant to shock viewers with Salò. He doesn’t appear to take any pleasure from showing us these images. It’s different than another controversial director Lars Von Trier, who seems to enjoy punishing his characters. In Salò, there are no real characters to care about. The people are presented as little more than props to serve the films purpose, rather than real, emotional beings.

Never has a film left me so conflicted. Depraved, gruesome, lurid yet smart. Salò is one of the most difficult films in cinema history to sit through. Yet underneath all the filth, there’s a powerful message to be decoded.

A purposely ugly looking film, Criterion’s 1.85:1 aspect ratio, 1080p transfer looks appropriate despite some slight issues. Flesh tones are accurate, saturated tones come across without bleed, and black levels are consistent and deep. However, fine detail is lacking in some areas. In selected long shots, there’s a definite lack of clarity. Dirt and grime is also noticeable on a couple of occasions. Grain is handled well here though, giving the film an appropriately gray eerie look.

Salo’s Italian mono track is skillfully presented with this LPCM track. Dialogue is quite clear (for the period), and sound effects, foley, and music come through nicely. This is a perfectly fine mix.

An English Dolby Digital 1.0 track is included, as are English SDH subtitles.

The special features are ported over from the 2008 2-Disc DVD. All features are presented in 1080i.

  • Salò: Yesterday and Today (33:17): Shot on the set during the last day of filming, this documentary featuring interviews with director Pier Paolo Pasolini, actor-filmmaker Jean-Claude Biette, and Pasolini friend Nineto Davoli.
  • Fade to Black (23:23): Interviews with directors including Bernardo Bertolucci and John Maybury and film scholar David Forgacs as they discuss the film and their own reactions and interpretations of what it means.
  • The End of Salò (39:47): A documentary in which various participants discuss the writing of the script, the banning of the film in Italy, and the preparations for the French dubbing which went on despite Pasolini’s murder the preceding weekend.
  •  New interviews with set designer Dante Ferretti (11:28) and director and film scholar Jean-Pierre Gorin (27:06). Ferretti discusses what it was like working with Pasolini on four films, while Gorin analyzes Salò.
  • Theatrical trailer (3:30)
  • Booklet: 80 pages, featuring new essays by Neil Bartlett, Catherine Breillat, Naomi Greene, Sam Rohdie, Roberto Chiesi, and Gary Indiana, and excerpts from Gideon Bachmann’s on-set diary