After a few popcorn movies in a row, I felt that I owed it to my brain to give it a little workout and Visconti's meditation on mortality and beauty and decay is designed for exactly that purpose. This film is beautifully shot and artfully constructed, languorous and melancholic- the deliberate pace compels the viewer to consider the subtext carefully. The first five minutes, more or less, is dedicated to wordless shots of Dirk Bogarde sat uncomfortably and clearly troubled on a steamboat. Five minutes! It is a beautiful, elegiac composition and to see Bogarde in the condition that he is already opens up the suggestion of the withering influence of time. My first thought upon seeing him looks more like Ronnie Corbett dressed as a rather shabby Hercule Poirot than the handsome movie star I'm accustomed to seeing. The fact that, at this point, my only knowledge of the film was its title did serve to disconcert me a little- for all I knew I may be about to watch a broad farce in the vein of Without A Clue. Of course, broad farces do not tend to begin with a contemplative stretches of silence and so the misapprehension was pretty swiftly dismissed.
In fact, I worked through several theories during the watching of this film. Following this opening, Bogarde is taken on to his final destination by a gondolier who refuses all requests and instructions to change course and is later described as a criminal who only goes one way. Immediately I was put in mind of Charon, the mythological ferryman who transports the newly deceased from the world of the living unto the world of the dead (again, the title Death in Veniceis resonant here). The film also appears to show Bogarde developing a homo-erotic infatuation with a pretty long-haired boy, Tadzio (Björn Andrésen), who is dressed throughout in sailor outfits or period- 1912- swimming outfits. Through flashbacks we gradually learn of the circumstances leading to Bogarde's arrival. What I liked about this- and had never actually occurred to me until I considered it watching this film- is that the memories are haphazardly presented, jumbled in order almost non-sequiturs in themselves until the context is revealed during the course of the film. Isn't that exactly what memories are like? Where else but in the movies do your inner reflections follow a chronological pattern?
And so we come to understand that Bogarde's character Professor Gustav von Aschenbach (I'm not typing all that again!) arrives in Venice in failing health for rehabilitation. He has been married with a child who died. His reputation as a composer is tarnished by recent failings and his creative and personal standing is at a low ebb. A broken man who appears lost in the world of his choosing as he questions the validity of his existence of his works. He dissects his art and the nature of creativity (is beauty the result of labour or inspiration? Is it discovered or developed?) without conclusion. He seems unconvinced by his own assertion that "reality distracts and degrades us" and unconvinced by the counter-arguments in equal measure.
With this in mind the film is revealed to not be about homo-erotic, generation-defying infatuation but about a deeper admiration for , actually an infatuation with, youth itself and with pure beauty. And then I return to the idea of Charon the Ferryman, transferring the dead from the world of the living. As Bogarde feels the crushing realisation that his vapid emotionless world of intellect is dead he moves on to a world of natural beauty which renders everything else contrived and worthless. Bogarde's infatuation is not so much with Tadzio himself but with that which he represents. The inspired beauty that Bogarde longed to create but could not is natural and real, neither the product of inspiration nor perspiration. Dirk Bogarde conveys this beautifully. His performance, increasing in intensity and overt angst is measured and balanced. His flappable frustration giving way to confusion, then to fear, then realisation and finally to impotent surrender are rendered with very few words and no grand physical gestures but with, for example, an expression of horror as he learns the truth about the cholera epidemic or the way in which he grabs his arms around himself to chastise himself for daring to smile as Tadzio. Tremendous performance
Even more than Bogarde who dominates the film to the extent that he is in every scene and almost every shot, however, the film is a magnificent achievement by the director/cinematographer team of Luchino Visconti and Pasqualino De Santis. The slow and largely wordless nature of the film place a heavy burden upon the pair. The use of Mahler's music (is there meant to be a link between Gustav Mahler and Gustav von Aschenbach? I don't know anything about the composer and may be clutching a very tenuous straw) beautifully complements the stunning visual feast of the film- and it is a feast. One of the themes running through the film is of decay and the corrupting effect of time and this is beautifully demonstrated in a city which is presented as a deteriorating before our eyes. The whole thing is quite stunning and nothing is left unsaid.
This is a marvellous picture, high art indeed. And, while I would prefer to watch Carry On Don't Lose Your Head nine times out of ten, when I feel the need to challenge myself then Death In Venice would be an excellent choice. 9/10
