Half a century after its release, Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom continues to provoke, disturb, and challenge viewers. Once banned around the world, the film — a brutal adaptation of the Marquis de Sade’s unfinished novel — is set to be screened at London’s Barbican cinema on November 11, marking a rare opportunity to witness Pasolini’s controversial masterpiece on the big screen.
A Tragic Context
Pasolini’s life ended violently and mysteriously on November 2, 1975, just weeks before Salò premiered at the Paris Film Festival. The 53-year-old Italian director’s mutilated body was discovered on the outskirts of Rome, run over by his own Alfa Romeo. His alleged killer, 17-year-old Giuseppe “Pino” Pelosi, initially claimed to have acted in self-defense during a sexual encounter with Pasolini, but later recanted.
Film historian Michelangelo Antonioni famously remarked that Pasolini was “the victim of his own characters,” a chilling reflection given the sadistic power dynamics explored in Salò. The director’s violent death cast a shadow over the film’s debut, entwining real-world tragedy with on-screen horrors.
A Controversial Cinematic Vision
Salò is set in the fascist puppet state of Northern Italy during World War II, where four powerful libertines abduct teenagers and subject them to escalating acts of sadistic abuse. Drawing on de Sade’s 18th-century novel, the film presents grotesque tableaux of torture, humiliation, and ritualized degradation — including one infamous scene in which the victims are forced to consume human excrement.
For Pasolini, a heterodox Marxist and outspoken critic of both fascism and consumerist culture, Salò was an anti-fascist allegory. He intended the film as a scathing critique of power, violence, and complicity. Marco Lucantoni, who acted in the film, described it as “the perfect depiction of the physical and moral violence endured under fascism,” and lauded Pasolini’s courage in bringing such a vision to the screen.
On-Set Atmosphere
Despite the film’s shocking content, cast members recall a surprisingly light atmosphere during filming. Paolo Bonacelli, who played the Duke — the ringleader of the fascist libertines — recounted that the notorious “Circle of S---” scene was performed with a Panettone-like pastry and candied fruit, turning an otherwise repulsive act into a somewhat humorous, staged performance.
Pasolini had a preference for casting non-professional actors, believing that they brought a “shred of reality” to the film. Young actors were often unaware of the day’s specific scenes until filming, allowing their reactions to appear spontaneous. Maurizio Valaguzza, cast at age 17, recalled, “Pasolini never talked about its meaning. On the first day, they just told us what to do.”
Despite the disturbing material, the director maintained a caring presence on set. Valaguzza and other surviving cast members remember him as a paternal figure who reassured nervous actors and treated them with respect — a stark contrast to the cruelty depicted on-screen.
Censorship and Legacy
Upon its release, Salò faced immediate backlash. It was banned in multiple countries, including the UK, where a private 1977 screening in London’s Old Compton Street was raided by police for being “grossly indecent.” An uncut version was only made available in the UK in 2000, and the film has rarely been shown in cinemas since.
Despite—or perhaps because of—its notoriety, Salò found an enduring audience. Director John Waters praised it as “elegantly beautiful… but at the same time you can barely watch it,” while Madonna reportedly told friends, “Watch this movie and if you don’t like it, we can’t be friends.”
Political Context and Pasolini’s Vision
Pasolini’s career was marked by political tension and controversy. A self-described Marxist, he was expelled from the Italian Communist Party over a gay scandal, and he often clashed with both leftist and rightist factions. His final film reflects his enduring concern with the abuse of power and the corruption of society.
Some have speculated that his murder was politically motivated, noting that Italy in the 1970s — the so-called Years of Lead — was rife with extremism and violence. In 2005, Pelosi retracted his confession, claiming that Pasolini was killed by three men, possibly with far-right affiliations, highlighting the ongoing mystery surrounding the director’s death.
The Film’s Enduring Shock
Salò is not simply a horror film; it is a critique of voyeurism, societal complicity, and the commodification of the human body. Its graphic violence and sexualized cruelty force audiences to confront the darker aspects of human nature and the consequences of unchecked authority. Richard Brody, writing for The New Yorker, described it as “essential to be seen but impossible to watch,” while James Ferman, former director of the British Board of Film Classification, argued that uncut screenings preserved the film’s intended shock and moral impact.
In hindsight, the film’s grotesque spectacles eerily foreshadow modern obsessions with power, voyeurism, and the exploitation of the vulnerable. Pasolini’s critique of consumerism and moral decay resonates even in today’s digital era, where spectacle often dominates reality.
Remembering Pasolini
Fifty years on, Pasolini’s Salò continues to challenge, provoke, and inspire. Cast members reflect on the director’s genius and his radical vision, acknowledging that the film’s horror is inseparable from its political and moral commentary. Bonacelli stated, “It’s a great movie. It was a mirror to the reality of the world. Pasolini was murdered because his ideas were revolutionary, but everything he said about society and modernity came true.”
The Barbican’s upcoming screening provides a rare opportunity to experience this controversial masterpiece as Pasolini intended: uncut, unflinching, and unforgettable.