It is often the case that an artist who creates a lifetime of strong work will be known for a single piece. One of the shorthand images that denote surrealism is a fur teacup. More people know this image than the name of the artist who made it (Meret Oppenheim). In the early to mid-1970s a series of films pushed the envelope of eros. Bertolucci accomplished this with a stick of butter. Pasolini’s Salo usually emptied theaters during the scatological scenes. Oshima ended an orgy of rutting with castration. But it was Liliana Cavani who created something shocking enough to scare off the most transgressive critic champions. The Night Porter (1974) explores the sadomasochistic bond between a former Nazi guard and one of his camp victims a decade after the war. Despite its horrible critical reception, it remains a classic of that genre. It is also one of her few films to remain reliably in print. 

The Night Porter might strike one as less sensational in the context of her whole career. Her first films were documentaries about the Nazis and Stalin. Her original intent was to become an archeologist, and her filmography shows an ongoing interest in historical subjects. Among the subjects of her films were Galileo, St. Francis (she made two films about him) Einstein and Nietzsche. Due to the vagaries of film finance, she made most of her movies for television. Between 1993 and 2002 she left film to direct operas. Ironically, most of the films she has in print are of the operas she directed.

Five years before she made The Night Porter she adapted Sophocles’ Antigone to modern day Italy. Starring Britt Eckland and Pierre Clemente (as a slightly feral entity who speaks an unknown language),
I cannibali (1970) is set in a modern day Milan. There is a revolution of some sort taking place, and it is illegal to bury any rebels who have been killed. Signs in multiple languages warn against the removal of bodies, and once a day a truck that resembles a street sweeper follows a priest around the streets spraying holy water (or perhaps disinfectant) on the rotting bodies. The decay is signaled by people holding handkerchiefs daintily over their noses, so the bodies are all intact. The scene is peaceful and gives the appearance of a town lulled to sleep wherever the bodies fell. It is easy to look at images of student unrest during the era (1968–9) and to imagine these scenes as the actual aftermath. Her documentary past serves her well in creating this illusion of veracity.

This is one of those films that have been changing hands among cinema collectors since the advent of home video; usually without subtitles. Raro Video has just released a crisp new print that includes a very insightful interview with Cavani about the circumstances that caused her to combine the politics of the ’60s with the drama of Sophocles. It is nice to think that while she is still with us, that more of her work might come back into print. One can imagine that the maker of The Night Porter might have some fun insights on Beyond Good and Evil.