Carmelo Bene
Salomè

For years, Carmelo Bene's cinema has been unjustly ignored by the media, and until recently, no DVD existed that showcased his eccentric work. Fortunately, Rarovideo took the initiative by publishing a nice product, complete with a book, featuring "Nostra Signora dei Turchi" and the short "Hermitage." Following this, the "rediscovery" of Bene continues, with readings of Dante, the CD of "Pinocchio," and the long-awaited DVD edition of "Salomè," a work dated 1972, one of the author's most accessible and entertaining pieces.

The plot is predictable, as it revisits the biblical theme: Herod Antipas (played by Bene himself) marries his sister-in-law Herodias (Mancinelli-Vincenti) and becomes infatuated with her daughter, Salome, from a previous marriage. Meanwhile, John the Baptist, disliked by Herodias, is imprisoned in the palace. Persuaded by her mother, Salome succumbs to Herod's charms, performing the famous dance for him and in return, receives the saint’s beheading. Forcefully passing through Oscar Wilde's text, so decadent and dazzling with gold, silver, and filthy, vile, yet fascinating characters, Bene chews and spits out Wilde's work, making it his own. The influences of Beardsley’s elegant and erotic drawings must not be underestimated. To the decadent and refined taste, the director substitutes the shimmer of psychedelic lights and extraordinary sets that recreate a twilight palace, filled with basins, fruits, foods of all kinds, and theatrical, exaggerated costumes. Unlike in "Un Amleto di Meno," here Bene does not delight in destroying the work but merely takes possession of it. The film progresses through images, showing the tetrarch's delusions (who obsessively repeats phrases and concepts, including "Salome, dance for me.."), dwelling on Herodias's chants (which benefit from a dual interpretation), lingering on the characters' nudities, on close-ups of feasting mouths, on hands dirty with food and details of objects. Occasionally, a shout is heard, "Whore, whore!" is the Baptist (an unlikely old man) who addresses the queen. Amusing, if you can say so, is the sequence where a martyr tries to crucify himself but, after piercing his feet with a nail and then one hand, fails to complete the task. The film is full of brilliant or interesting insights, and given Bene's erudition, it's not always easy to catch the references and citations. Surely, the well-known plot helps the viewer, and the film's not-too-long duration (around 70 minutes) makes for a lighter and more enjoyable experience compared, for example, to "Nostra Signora dei Turchi."

When watching a film (or any theatrical work) by Bene, it is essential to remember that he cannot be overlooked: Bene is not only the core of the work, but he is "Salomè" in its entirety, he is "Salomè DI Carmelo Bene," a creature that cannot live without its creator, who took the liberty of subjugating a myth for his own use and pleasure. Suffice it to say that the role of Salome was entrusted to an actress-model who barely utters words in forced Italian. Bene never goes beyond Bene, but in this case, his ego is more than enough to offer us a particular, lavish, interesting, and, thankfully, comprehensible film.