Satyricon was the first Fellini film I ever had the pleasure of viewing and, though I consider Fellini a true master, it has remained my favorite after repeated viewings. In fact, it easily tops my favorite films having spoken to me on so many levels about the importance of the cosmic fool, the charm of the scoundrel, the familiar sting of betrayal, and the importance of myth. I’ve witnessed many viewers daunted by the fragmented nature of the film, mirroring the incomplete shards of mythology provided by the classic Petronius epic. But I’m somewhat offended when I hear someone slag Satyricon off as pretentious because I connect to it so strongly. I recognize the questionable nature of making such a bold statement about a movie that basically follows the exploits of two degenerates in the age of Nero involved in an often literal tug of war over the affections of a teenage boy. But there are such colorfully melancholy truths beyond the details.

Science Fiction of the Past

The aesthetic of Satyricon was accurately described by Fellini as “science fiction of the past.” Shrill horns merge with atmospheric synths as unsettling gazes stare directly from the screen at you, constantly breaking the fourth wall as if you are some alien observer. Fellini’s depiction of Rome in the age of Nero flows like a casual nightmare with monolithic tenements jutting forth from ever-present shadows. The characters seem as disoriented as the viewer, falling from one absurd situation into another, asking disjointed questions such as “Do you know where I live?” Some characters speak undecipherable languages while the dubbed voices carry on strange conversations forcing the spectator into the role of the stranger in the strange land. My DVD offers dubbed and subtitled options but I find the dubbed version far superior, with lines such as “he sits down to piss as if he’d never been born a man” and a vicious fight between former friends ending with an exasperated “I’m sorry, love.” This unforgiving apocalyptic landscape is almost a character in itself yet serves as the lightbox that so gorgeously contrasts the archetypes I adore.