Caravaggio (1986)

As the title immediately suggests, this is the story of the great painter Caravaggio, although told in the distinctive style of director Derek Jarman. Working, as always, on a relatively low budget, Jarman creatively tackles his lack of resources by producing an abstract and highly stylised world in which the characters live and work, often in a stylised manner. 'Caravaggio', however, perhaps provided the highest budget for Jarman and as a result we see several 'names' in the cast, giving this a bit more star appeal and and easier introduction for those not yet familiar with Jarman's work.

Caravaggio is seen in adolescence and adulthood, played by Dexter Fletcher (Elephant Man) and Nigel Terry (Excalibur), respectively. We witness his evolution from talented street urchin to the pope's favourite, and his obsession with the roguish Ranuccio (Sean Bean), who becomes the subject of many of his paintings. Around this relationship there forms an awkward love triangle, with Ranuccio's lover, Lena (Tilda Swinton), originally jealous of the two men but becoming more involved with Caravaggio herself and upsetting Ranuccio, before attracting the attention of the Pope's nephew, Scipione Borghese (Robbie Coltrane). Like many artist films we do see Caravaggio in the act of painting but the focus is always on the subject rather than his craft meaning we don't get any subjective, transcendent moments of creation which can always cheapen such films. Instead, Jarman has invented a relationship with a real figure (we have no way of knowing exactly how involved Caravaggio was with Ranuccio) in order to examine Caravaggio's interaction with his subjects, his ambiguous sexuality and his relationship with the period in which he lived.

As with many Jarman films the action takes place on minimalist sets, deliberately stylised to resemble but not recreate reality. Even though the budget would have allowed them to shoot in Italy, it was much easier to control the environment by working on soundstages and we are also provided with sets that distinctively reflect the mood of the story and the mind of the subject - just as 'Wittgenstein' featured props isolated in darkness, 'Caravaggio' takes place against a dusty stone backdrop against which the tableaux from which the artist paints achieve a hyper-reality, whilst matching the emptiness of Caravaggio's paintings. Indeed, like Jarman's contemporary, Peter Greenaway, many of the shots have a highly constructed painterly quality to them, and the film accurately produces a Caravaggio 'look'. Another example of such alliance with an artist's vision can be seen in John Maybury's portrait of Francis Bacon in 'Love is the Devil'.

The acting is fine but the majority of the mood and story is achieved through the poetic voiceover of Caravaggio on his deathbed, which also serves to stylise the film further and remove it from a typical historic biopic. Due to the use of Nigel Terry in both films, the voiceover strongly resembles 'Blue', which marked Jarman own gradual decline from AIDS before his death, creating a powerful parallel between the two artists in their last moments. Obviously, Jarman identified with and chose to focus on the homosexuality of Caravaggio, which may have been overlooked by heterosexual directors, and this also provided the more controversial elements of the film. Boldly, for a 'artist film', Jarman does not use the paintings to construct the character, but his own fictional relationships. The adolescent Caravaggio feels no responsibility to his talent and churns out paintings as payment, specifically to win back his highly prized knife which reoccurs throughout the film (a symbol of Caravaggio's more violent, uncultured side). It is only later, when he has Ranuccio and Lena as his subjects, does Caravaggio begin to feel the urge to create masterpieces that capture their characters on canvas. It is only through his motivations that we then learn about the artist, although perhaps we learn more about the director through his decisions in filming his subject.

I heard of this film a long time ago and always wanted to see it, undertanding it to be Jarman's finest achievement and also his most accesible. I find myself always impressed by the highly distinctive and creative Jarman, who achieved a definite identity within his films, and remained distinctly English with his many films examining contemporary Britain. I can't quite decide which is my favourite, or even really if I like his films, as they are so stylistically different to most other cinema and the viewer always has to adapt his expectations and way of watching to become a part of a Jarman film, but I can't escape that this is a powerful skill and worthy of much attention as usually, even the greatest directors tend to follow the rules of how films are made. Just as nowadays silent films can be difficult to watch because we're so used to a modern style, Jarman's films need a certain frame of mind to understand on their own terms. 'Caravaggio' is probably the easiest film to do this with and I would definitely recommend it as a starting point.

British cinema is much better off for figures like Jarman, Greenaway, or the rarely seen but often quoted Bill Douglas who demonstrated a great understanding of cinematic language. But with Jarman and Douglas passed away and Greenaway increasingly impenetrable, it really is time for a new wave of distinctive filmmakers with something to say and an original way of saying it. Unfortunately we don't have programmes such as the BFI's Experimental Film Fund, which helped set these directors on their way, or the burgeoning Channel 4, keen to commission unique works of film art, but now video technology has made filmmaking so much more accessible there's only the lack of ideas (and subsequent distribution) that stand in our way. 'Caravaggio' took seven years to get made and we need to see a similar level of commitment amongst modern directors. I've said it many times before...