Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1967
The interesting thing about this movie is that uses a contemporary setting as a framing device. Oedipus' birth and childhood and his abandonment all occur in what Wikipedia describes as "pre-war Italy" (it does look vaguely '30s to me, now that I think about it) and a final scene of Oedipus as a blind beggar before a church exists in a scene that could feasibly be as late as '67. (I guess that would make chronological sense, if we assume grown Oedipus is in his '30s..maybe I'm reading too much into this.)
The modern introduction really intrigued me. (It also contained one of the most technically interesting shots, where a baby Oedipus lays down in a field and we see a baby's-eye-view of the world.) It really left me wondering whether a totally modern version of this would work, and I kept wondering what that would look like and felt a little disappointed when we reverted to an ancient setting. But the really important thing is that the prophecy Laius receives never occurs, or perhaps it does only in his own head. He has the thought -- expressed, like all other thoughts in the film, via intertitles, an interesting innovation that works more powerfully here than voice-over might -- that this child has come to replace him and rush him into the void; that he has come here to steal from him. And the first thing the child will steal -- has already stolen -- is the love of the mother. And this is the other side of parenting and if the only thing Pasolini did with this film was illuminating it and naming it, then he achieved a great success.
I don't know how you even go about defining an ancient setting as "believable," but Pasolini basically does that by maintaining a certain starkness and adding certain stylized flourishes, such as big hats, which also appear in The Gospel According to St. Matthew, Oedipus's large false beard (which symbolizes his false authority in Thebes), an interesting looking (and interestingly riddle-free) sphinx.
Pasolini here, as often, takes a neorealistic approach -- everyday (if in this case era-appropriate) sets, minimalist filmic technique, and non-professional actors. Of course, the film does feature the splendidly warm Alida Valli (she later appeared in Suspiria) as Merope Queen of Corinth and Silvana Mangano, who was also wonderful in Teorema, makes Jocasta both aloof and human. (Just look at that picture of her before the jump...so evocative!) But generally, watching the cast here you're reminded how people in epic films, especially the American ones, look so fucking British and distinguished. Franco Citti as Oedipus looks so contemporary and ordinary that it really makes you realize that this story could (and if we believe Freud, does) happen to everybody.
The problem with this story is that it is defined by its major plot twist, you're expecting what's coming and that's the big thing that the story has going for it. I was impressed how Pasolini managed to evoke the word "hubris" without ever mentioning it; it's amazing how little these people think will suffice to thwart fate. Oedipus's refusal to believe the truth feels both laughable and relatable. Though it's not gory or violent, I found the blinding scene very disturbing.
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