Pier Paolo Pasolini is a fascinating, if challenging filmmaker, who I have only fairly recently begun to fully appreciate. As is probably the case with numerous other critics of my generation, my entry point to the Italian’s canon was his final film, the depraved Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom. Since then I have also caught Theorem, which stars Terrence Stamp as an almost messianic lodger, who proceeds to seduce the various members of a bourgeois household and now I find myself in possession of a copy of Masters of Cinema recent release of Oedipus Rex (I also have Criterion’s Trilogy of Life boxset, so may be diving further into his back catalogue in the near future).

Using Sophocles’ famous story as its jumping off point, Pasolini’s film is by his own admission an autobiographical exploration of the Oedipal Complex. It begins in pre-war Italy, with a young man succumbing to jealousy after the birth of his son and ditching the baby in the desert. At this point we are transported into the classical ancient era, where the baby Oedipus is found and raised by the King & Queen of Corinth as their own. However, once he reaches adulthood, Oedipus (Franco Citti) learns of a prophesy that he is destined to kill his own father and seduce his mother. Unaware that he is adopted, Oedipus heads off into the desert, only to inadvertently meet and murder his real father. He then heads to Thebes, bests the sphinx and is rewarded by marrying the Queen – none other than his own mother, Jocasta (Silvana Mangano).

Pasolini is never an easy director to watch. His films are politically charged, deliberately paced, but with patience, offer a rich and vibrant viewing experience. They often blend realism with fantasy in challenging yet rewarding ways. As Salo took the writings of the Marquis de Sade and transplanted them into Fascist-occupied Italy circa 1944, in Oedipus Rex, the classical Greek tragedy of Oedipus the King is bookended by an introduction and conclusion set in the pre-war era.

Shot in the deserts of Morocco, Oedipus Rex looks fantastic and boasts some incredibly outlandish costumes. Pasolini has a wonderful ability to accentuate the beauty of his actors, while also highlight the grotesquery of his supporting cast, almost in the same way Leone does. The result is a bold and vivid interpretation of the enduring Greek classic, which while not one of Pasolini’s best, is still an intriguing and rewarding piece of work.