Salome's Last Dance Page #2

Synopsis: Set in France Oscar Wilde (so it appears) visits a local theatre and is surprised by their retelling of his own work ""Salome'" the story line then digresses in to a VERY twisted portrayal of his work preformed by the local brothel and what can only be described as rejects from the local community theatre. Just when you think it's hit rock bottom it reaches for a new low you didn't think possible and begins to dig add and yet the music continues to dig this in to an ever deepening pit from which you will never get your time back.
Director(s): Ken Russell
Production: Lionsgate
 
IMDB:
6.7
Rotten Tomatoes:
50%
R
Year:
1988
89 min
341 Views


Gold!

I love gold!

And a third, which is a Sicilian wine,

that one is as red as blood!

The gods of my country love blood.

Twice a year, we sacrifice youths

and virgins to 'em..

50 youths and a 100 virgins.

But it seems we never give 'em enough!

because they still persecute us.

In my country, there aren't any gods

now! The Romans chased them out!

There are those who say they hid in the

mountains, but I don't believe it!

I spent three nights in the hills,

looking everywhere..

but I didn't find them!

Finally, I called upon each one by name!

But they didn't appear.

I think..

they are dead!

The Jews worship a god they can't see!

Really? - In fact, they only

worship things they can't see.

Ridiculous!

After me, will come one

even more mighty!

Sometimes, he says fearful things

but we never understand him!

Can we see him?

Nooooooo! The Tetrarch forbids it!

What a bizarre prison!

It's an old well.

An old well? It must be very unhealthy.

Take the brother of the

Tetrarch, his elder brother,

Queen Herodias' first husband.

He was incarcerated down there

for 12 years and he didn't die!

In the end he had to be strangled.

- Strangled? Who dare do that?

That one..

Naamn.

Wasn't he afraid?

- Oh, no!

The Tetrarch sent him the ring?

- What ring?

The ring of death!

That way he wasn't afraid!

Even so, it's terrible

to strangle a king! - Why?

Kings have only got one neck,

just like other men!

It seem terrible to me..

Now!

The princess is getting up!

She's leaving the table.

She seems bored.

She's coming over here.

Yes, she's coming towards us!

I'm not staying!

I can't stay..

Don't look at her.

I beg you don't look at her!

It is strange that my mother's

husband looks at me so!

I don't know what it means.

Actually, I do know!

Have you just left

the banquet, Princess?

Would you like to sit down, Princess?

Why look at her? Why speak to her?

Oh, something terrible

is going to happen!

How fresh the air is here!

At last, one can breathe!

Inside, there are Jews from

Jerusalem, tearing each other to pieces,

over their ridiculous ceremonies!

Barbarians drinking and

spilling wine everywhere..

And then there are the Romans

with their brutality,

their clumsiness, their swear words!

Ooh! How I detest the Romans!

Commoners! Giving themselves

the airs and graces of royalty!

Isn't it wonderful to see the moon?

She is cold and chaste, the moon.

I am sure that she is a virgin!

She's a virgin.

She has never sullied herself.

She has never given herself to men,

like the other goddesses.

The Lord has come!

The Son of Man has come!

The centaurs have hidden

themselves in the rivers..

and the mermaids have fled to sleep

beneath the leaves in the forest.

Who said that? - It's the voice

of the prophet, Princess.

Ah, the prophet!

The one that Tetrarch fears?

We know nothing of that, Princess!

It is the Prophet John.

- The Baptist.

Shall I order your litter, Princess?

It is very beautiful in the garden.

He has said monstrous things

about my mother, hasn't he?

We never understand

what he says, Princess.

Yes, he has said appalling

things about her!

Frightfully sorry, Princess! The Tetrarch

requests that you return to the banquet.

I'm not going back!

Pardon me, Princess.

But if you don't go back

something awful could happen to you.

Is he an old man, the Prophet?

Princess! It would be best if you went

back. Permit me to accompany you.

The Prophet! Is he an old man?

No, Princess. He's a very young man.

Well, we don't know!

There are those that say he is Elijah.

Who's Elijah? - A very old prophet,

Princess, from the provinces.

Sorry! What reply should I give to

the Tetrarch on behalf of the Princess?

Do not rejoice, land of Palestine,

because the rod of your

oppressor has been broken!

From the serpent's egg

will come the basilisk..

and he who is formed from it,

will devour the birds!

What a strange voice!

I would like to speak to him!

I'm afraid that's impossible, Princess! The

Tetrarch doesn't wish us to speak to him.

He has forbidden even

the High Priest to speak to him!

I want to speak to him.

It's impossible, Princess!

- I want to!

Indeed, Princess! It would be

better to return to the banquet.

Have the Prophet brought out!

I have always been nice to you!

You will do it, won't you?

I only want to look at him,

this strange prophet.

Everyone talks about him.

I've often heard the Tetrarch

talk about him.

I think the Tetrarch is afraid of him.

I am sure he is afraid of him!

And you, Narraboth?

Are you afraid of him too?

I'm not afraid of him, Princess.

I'm afraid of no one!

But the Tetrarch has officially

forbidden us to release him from the well.

You will do this for me, Narraboth!

and tomorrow, when I pass in my litter..

under the arch of the vendors of idols,

I will drop a little flower for you,

a little green flower.

Princess, I can't!

I can't!

You will do this for me, Narraboth!

You know, you will do this for me.

and tomorrow when I pass over the

bridge of the vendors of idols,

I will look..

at you!

Through my muslin veils..

I will look at you!

We dare not, Princess!

How dark it is down there!

He must be terrible,

to be in a place so black!

It's like a tomb!

Didn't you hear me?

Let him out!

I want to see him!

I beg you, Princess,

don't ask this of us!

Don't keep me waiting!

Princess, our lives belong to you,

but we cannot do what you ask!

In any case, um.. it's not

we who you must ask.

Oh, what is going to happen? I am sure

something terrible is going to happen!

You will do it for me,

won't you, Narraboth?

You will do it.. for me.

Narraboth!

I will smile at you.. perhaps..

Look at me, Narraboth, look at me!

You know full well you will

do what I ask of you!

You know it, don't you?

Me.. I know it.

Send up the Prophet..

the Princess wishes to see him!

Send up the Prophet!

Oh, how strange the moon looks tonight!

Through the clouds of muslin,

she smiles like a little princess..

like a princess with amber eyes!

Tell him to come out! So that he may hear the

voice of he who has shouted in the deserts!

And in the palaces of kings!

Whom does he mean?

- We never know, Princess!

Where is she..

who having seen naked men

painted on city walls..

pictures of Chaldeans etched in color..

gave way to lust and

sent envoys to Chaldea?

He is speaking about my mother!

- No, Princess!

Yes! It's about mother!

Where is she who gave herself

to the captains of the Assyrians?

Tell her to drag herself from

her bed of lasciviousness..

from her bed of incestuousness!

So that she may hear the words

of he who paves of the Lord..

So that she may repent her sins!

Although she will never expiate them..

but remain steadfast in her crimes!

Tell her to come!

For the Lord.. has his

scourge.. in his hands!

Oh, but he is horrible!

He is horrible!

Who is this woman who looks at me?

I do not want her to look at me.

Why is she looking at me with

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Oscar Wilde

Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde (16 October 1854 – 30 November 1900) was an Irish poet and playwright. After writing in different forms throughout the 1880s, he became one of London's most popular playwrights in the early 1890s. He is best remembered for his epigrams and plays, his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, and the circumstances of his imprisonment and early death. Wilde's parents were successful Anglo-Irish intellectuals in Dublin. Their son became fluent in French and German early in life. At university, Wilde read Greats; he proved himself to be an outstanding classicist, first at Dublin, then at Oxford. He became known for his involvement in the rising philosophy of aestheticism, led by two of his tutors, Walter Pater and John Ruskin. After university, Wilde moved to London into fashionable cultural and social circles. As a spokesman for aestheticism, he tried his hand at various literary activities: he published a book of poems, lectured in the United States and Canada on the new "English Renaissance in Art" and interior decoration, and then returned to London where he worked prolifically as a journalist. Known for his biting wit, flamboyant dress and glittering conversational skill, Wilde became one of the best-known personalities of his day. At the turn of the 1890s, he refined his ideas about the supremacy of art in a series of dialogues and essays, and incorporated themes of decadence, duplicity, and beauty into what would be his only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890). The opportunity to construct aesthetic details precisely, and combine them with larger social themes, drew Wilde to write drama. He wrote Salome (1891) in French while in Paris but it was refused a licence for England due to an absolute prohibition on the portrayal of Biblical subjects on the English stage. Unperturbed, Wilde produced four society comedies in the early 1890s, which made him one of the most successful playwrights of late-Victorian London. At the height of his fame and success, while The Importance of Being Earnest (1895) was still being performed in London, Wilde had the Marquess of Queensberry prosecuted for criminal libel. The Marquess was the father of Wilde's lover, Lord Alfred Douglas. The libel trial unearthed evidence that caused Wilde to drop his charges and led to his own arrest and trial for gross indecency with men. After two more trials he was convicted and sentenced to two years' hard labour, the maximum penalty, and was jailed from 1895 to 1897. During his last year in prison, he wrote De Profundis (published posthumously in 1905), a long letter which discusses his spiritual journey through his trials, forming a dark counterpoint to his earlier philosophy of pleasure. On his release, he left immediately for France, never to return to Ireland or Britain. There he wrote his last work, The Ballad of Reading Gaol (1898), a long poem commemorating the harsh rhythms of prison life. He died destitute in Paris at the age of 46. more…

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