The 1970s saw Visconti meditating a great deal on the downfall of privileged men with their best years behind them (see also: Death in Venice and Ludwig), though this, his third film in the decade, at least finds its outmoded protagonist retaining his mental faculties throughout the entire story. Critics were tempted to read the professor as some sort of cinematic surrogate for Visconti, though this becomes more debatable when one considers the director's far less orthodox personal lifestyle and appreciation for the overripe, sensual side of art. On the other hand, a bit of a personal investment seems to be present in the professor's reveries to his past relationships with his mother and wife, played in brief but tantalizing cameos by the wonderful Dominique Sanda and Claudia Cardinale respectively. For some reason Sanda has graced at least two DVD covers for this release, despite the fact that she appears in the film for only a few seconds. It's about as honest as putting Julia Roberts on the DVD cover for Robert Altman's The Player.
Few have cited this film as one of his top-tier efforts, but it actually has a great deal to offer and stands out particularly thanks to its surprising injections of dark comedy. Berger in particular is effective as a sneering Euro-trash hooligan with a vulnerable side, exploiting his richer compatriots and shoving his way into a lifestyle for which he ultimately proves ill prepared.
What certainly is typical of Visconti here is the cinematography, as this is once again a visually stunning film. Lenser Pasqualino De Santis was enjoying his third teaming with Visconti (after The Damned and Death in Venice), and this is easily the visual equal of its predecessors with the scope frame luxuriating in every opulent crevice and piece of décor within the sumptuous sets. No other team used darkness better, either, as the film's big kinky twist is delivered in a cavern of eerie darkness reminiscent of the haunting banquet scene from The Damned.
Without a major studio like Warner Bros. handling his titles by this point, Visconti found his films handled in America by independent distributors who sometimes hacked huge portions out of his films (a la Ludwig). Somehow this two-hour production managed to escape unscathed when it was picked up by New Line, keeping all of the raw language and flashes of full frontal Berger intact. Unfortunately this also meant that it languished in legal obscurity for many years after it passed back over to the European rights holders again, with its careful widescreen framing hacked to bits on a handful of VHS releases including a very murky one from HBO Video.
Eventually an anamorphic but bare bones DVD did surface in England in 2003 courtesy of Arrow, with the same transfer used again in 2006 for an Australian release from Madman. The Raro edition in 2012 marks the film's first widescreen availability on home video in America, with the original English track intact. (Lancaster, Mangano, and Berger all provide their own voices.) The transfer is also superior, now free from PAL speedup and clocking in accurately at 125 minutes. The Sanda shot appears on the DVD cardboard O-card sleeve once again, but at least the insert sleeve features a more accurate (albeit fuzzy) frame grab of the main cast. Extras include the Italian trailer (under its original title, Gruppo di famiglia In un interno) and a video interview with film writer Alessandro Bencivenni, who puts the film in context with the professional and personal circumstances of Visconti's life at the time. An illustrated insert booklet also contains fairly lengthy liner notes by Mark Reynolds, who makes a case for the film as a sort of final testament for Visconti and discusses the hostile critical reception in America to its more outré political aspects.
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by Nathaniel Thompson
