The subtle misogyny of Oscar Wilde highlights this exotic but intimate retelling of one of his most scandalous plays as he is an audience of one in a production stage in his own house. Wilde's script has such thoughts as original sin came from woman, and the two female characters here (Salome and her mother, Queen Herodias) are certainly not representations of morality. But the misogyny presented here is a representation of Wilde himself, not the script of the film, and under the direction of Ken Russell, this art house film shows the immorality of humanity all together, not just one gender.
"I will kiss your mouth!" the young seductress played by Imogen Millais-Scott repeats over and over, getting more melodramatic each time she says it, giving indication that her own mouth represented another female body part, as well as an entrance to damnation. Salome's lust for John the Baptist (Douglas Hodge) causes her Roman lover to commit suicide, and King Herod (Stratford Johns) lusts after her as his wife Herodias (Glenda Jackson) quietly looks on and begins plotting.
The character of Herodias was the Hebrew version of Rome's Empress Livia, and Jackson is very subtle in her performance that builds even though her screen time isn't as much as I would have liked. She's certainly more subtle than Dame Judith Anderson in the 1953 Rita Hayworth movie, but certain aspects of this make me wonder if Jackson had viewed Dame Sian Phillips in "I Claudius" while preparing this.
The character of King Herod is obviously closer to Charles Laughton's rendition in the older film, and Johns seems to be playing a bit of Nero in him as well. A scene of Herod discussing wind has him constantly passing gas and seems rather unnecessary. The sets are very intimate, like something you'd see in a medium sized Off Broadway house, and the ensemble of characters surrounding the major characters seems like they could come out of any era of history.
As this is shown with Wilde (Nickolas Grace) viewing the play in his own home, the cast playing the various actors and prostitutes in the present tense as well as in the past in the structure of the play. This is the type of film that when revived has to be in an intimate movie theater. No large movie screen could really show the level of live theater that this represents. Twists that occur throughout the performance of the play (not shown in its entirety, but with the major highlights that make you feel as if you have seen the whole thing) have an ironic feel about them, and while this is not the type of film that would gain enough favor for awards stands the test of time because of its own bizarreness that never reduces itself to camp.
"I will kiss your mouth!" the young seductress played by Imogen Millais-Scott repeats over and over, getting more melodramatic each time she says it, giving indication that her own mouth represented another female body part, as well as an entrance to damnation. Salome's lust for John the Baptist (Douglas Hodge) causes her Roman lover to commit suicide, and King Herod (Stratford Johns) lusts after her as his wife Herodias (Glenda Jackson) quietly looks on and begins plotting.
The character of Herodias was the Hebrew version of Rome's Empress Livia, and Jackson is very subtle in her performance that builds even though her screen time isn't as much as I would have liked. She's certainly more subtle than Dame Judith Anderson in the 1953 Rita Hayworth movie, but certain aspects of this make me wonder if Jackson had viewed Dame Sian Phillips in "I Claudius" while preparing this.
The character of King Herod is obviously closer to Charles Laughton's rendition in the older film, and Johns seems to be playing a bit of Nero in him as well. A scene of Herod discussing wind has him constantly passing gas and seems rather unnecessary. The sets are very intimate, like something you'd see in a medium sized Off Broadway house, and the ensemble of characters surrounding the major characters seems like they could come out of any era of history.
As this is shown with Wilde (Nickolas Grace) viewing the play in his own home, the cast playing the various actors and prostitutes in the present tense as well as in the past in the structure of the play. This is the type of film that when revived has to be in an intimate movie theater. No large movie screen could really show the level of live theater that this represents. Twists that occur throughout the performance of the play (not shown in its entirety, but with the major highlights that make you feel as if you have seen the whole thing) have an ironic feel about them, and while this is not the type of film that would gain enough favor for awards stands the test of time because of its own bizarreness that never reduces itself to camp.