What an absolute bizarre film (or was it a documentary?). The version that I saw either had some really bad subtitles, or it had the kind of English that made absolute no sense to me. It was extremely poetic using words that just didn't make sense together. Given that the film is supposed to be a homoerotic journey through a modern day Caravaggio painting, I'd have to say the dialogues were meant to be artsy. Maybe they make more sense in local language, but in language I ket scratching my head on what really is this film trying to say.
The plot as per online resources is this. Set in three geographically distinct chapters that take place in Naples, Utrecht, and Rome, this drama follows the wanderings of a middle-aged man as he mopes his way through the sex clubs, concert halls, bars, and streets of Europe. Voice-over reflections on love, art, and death are abundant. In a cross between a diary and a baroque play the film reconstructs the fragments of a fateful journey against a Caravaggio backdrop. Painting, sensuality, losing oneself in a cityscape: this film forms an obscure fresco, a white-hot collage of trashy vanity.
Now if you were a mere mortal like me, I would not have an idea that this is what this film is about. I was confused as hell as to what am I even watching! It was that bad. Look, I will be the first to admit that I am probably the last person to know anything about art or poets or anything in that space. So maybe I am not the right audience for such a film. The film's distanced narration with its abstract poetic verbiage sucks out any real gains beyond the visual style. I will strongly advice to stay away from this one. It isn't even a sensual sexual scene that would have made me give this at least half a star. (0/10)
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