My twin brother had studied in college about a dozen "chants" from the "Inferno" section of Dante Alighieri's 3-part epic masterpiece "The Divine Comedy". Actually, the fantasy element of the whole – which sees the national Italian poet journey through Hell, Purgatory and Paradise has always intrigued me – even if one requires special knowledge (since it makes specific references to events and people in the author's life and times) to fully appreciate the text. That said, the "Inferno" is the most popular segment and, given my own predilection for Horror, it is just as well: this Silent production, then, running 68 minutes in the version I acquired (accompanied by a serviceable Tangerine Dream score which, however, comes with a handful of songs that not only merely reiterate what is already in the text but actively interfere with it!) is famous for being Italy's very first feature-length film – incidentally, it was being constantly projected over the walls of the main hall of the "Palazzo Del Cinema" during the 2004 Venice Film Festival to which my brother and I had been accredited to attend!
Before I go into the movie proper, I must say that I am always surprised to see nudity in early movies – but this one has easily the most extensive amount of this, since virtually all of the condemned are presented in their birthday suit (albeit either strategically positioned to obscure genitalia or else donning pieces of cloth over 'offensive' parts of the body)! Anyway, as I have often remarked about such 'museum pieces', it is hard in hindsight to properly evaluate the artistic quality of the film (which essentially hinges on its faithful recreation of the influential Gustav Dore' illustrations inspired by Dante's work). Mind you, if one had to compare it to what was emanating from the U.S. at the time, this obviously wins hands down on the basis of sheer ambition and scope alone (pioneer D.W. Griffith would be restricted to two-reelers until 1913) – but, then, the film-making approach here is in the, admittedly, then-prevalent vein of wildly (and relentlessly) gesticulating actors within tableaux-like scenes, with plot progression depicted not through the (eventually) natural expedient of editing but rather by having an intertitle describe the next 'moving image'!
In any case, Alighieri's muse Beatrice asks the poet Virgil to accompany Dante on his odyssey through the nine circles of Hell where the dead are eternally punished for having committed a variety of sins, each level representing a more heinous transgression than the one before (for instance, misers and spendthrifts are forever made to roll bags of gold and rebuke each other of their respective foible)! Along the way, they meet a number of well-known historical personages (Cleopatra for her lustiness, Ulysses for the bad advise he gave during the Trojan War{!} and, in a bit of poetic justice, Caiaphas is crucified to the ground for having hypocritically rejected his own Messiah: bafflingly, there is even a designated spot where all the good people born before the advent of Christ on Earth can 'reside', obviously without being castigated!) but also more obscure ones known by Virgil and Dante and whom the latter in particular verbally and physically lashes out at (recognizing one even if he is standing upside-down with his head in a hole), or they at him! Guarding the damned are a horde of demons who, again, either are not pleased to receive the poets' visit (though they can hardly protest since this tour is apparently being conducted through Divine will!) or they gleefully curse/torment their charges.
As I said earlier, we also get interjections in which the fates of a handful of tragic figures are shown: these include clandestine lovers Paolo and Francesca and Count Ugolino (betrayed, imprisoned and starved to death by his former friend, an Archbishop, in the netherworld he continually gnaws at the latter's head in an icy ambiance!) – interestingly, these accounts were eventually turned into films that I own but have yet to watch, coincidentally both dating from 1949 and directed by Raffaello Matarazzo and Riccardo Freda respectively (the latter title, unfortunately, only survives in a ragged print marked by a constant flurry of missing frames!). In the end, Dante and Virgil come face to face with a gigantic Lucifer gleefully feasting on the bodies of Cassius and Brutus, chief conspirators in the assassination of Julius Caesar (which rather exposes a bias towards his own country's turbulent past in the poet's notion of Hell), but they are allowed to re-enter the real world.
Before I go into the movie proper, I must say that I am always surprised to see nudity in early movies – but this one has easily the most extensive amount of this, since virtually all of the condemned are presented in their birthday suit (albeit either strategically positioned to obscure genitalia or else donning pieces of cloth over 'offensive' parts of the body)! Anyway, as I have often remarked about such 'museum pieces', it is hard in hindsight to properly evaluate the artistic quality of the film (which essentially hinges on its faithful recreation of the influential Gustav Dore' illustrations inspired by Dante's work). Mind you, if one had to compare it to what was emanating from the U.S. at the time, this obviously wins hands down on the basis of sheer ambition and scope alone (pioneer D.W. Griffith would be restricted to two-reelers until 1913) – but, then, the film-making approach here is in the, admittedly, then-prevalent vein of wildly (and relentlessly) gesticulating actors within tableaux-like scenes, with plot progression depicted not through the (eventually) natural expedient of editing but rather by having an intertitle describe the next 'moving image'!
In any case, Alighieri's muse Beatrice asks the poet Virgil to accompany Dante on his odyssey through the nine circles of Hell where the dead are eternally punished for having committed a variety of sins, each level representing a more heinous transgression than the one before (for instance, misers and spendthrifts are forever made to roll bags of gold and rebuke each other of their respective foible)! Along the way, they meet a number of well-known historical personages (Cleopatra for her lustiness, Ulysses for the bad advise he gave during the Trojan War{!} and, in a bit of poetic justice, Caiaphas is crucified to the ground for having hypocritically rejected his own Messiah: bafflingly, there is even a designated spot where all the good people born before the advent of Christ on Earth can 'reside', obviously without being castigated!) but also more obscure ones known by Virgil and Dante and whom the latter in particular verbally and physically lashes out at (recognizing one even if he is standing upside-down with his head in a hole), or they at him! Guarding the damned are a horde of demons who, again, either are not pleased to receive the poets' visit (though they can hardly protest since this tour is apparently being conducted through Divine will!) or they gleefully curse/torment their charges.
As I said earlier, we also get interjections in which the fates of a handful of tragic figures are shown: these include clandestine lovers Paolo and Francesca and Count Ugolino (betrayed, imprisoned and starved to death by his former friend, an Archbishop, in the netherworld he continually gnaws at the latter's head in an icy ambiance!) – interestingly, these accounts were eventually turned into films that I own but have yet to watch, coincidentally both dating from 1949 and directed by Raffaello Matarazzo and Riccardo Freda respectively (the latter title, unfortunately, only survives in a ragged print marked by a constant flurry of missing frames!). In the end, Dante and Virgil come face to face with a gigantic Lucifer gleefully feasting on the bodies of Cassius and Brutus, chief conspirators in the assassination of Julius Caesar (which rather exposes a bias towards his own country's turbulent past in the poet's notion of Hell), but they are allowed to re-enter the real world.