Sebastiane

Derek Jarman looks at Sebastian and sees what Botticelli (and Perugino and Reni and Mishima) saw, the lambent space between spiritual and carnal longing. The bacchanalian opening (a painted Lindsay Kemp writhing in the center of a mock-circle jerk) gets Fellini out of the way, the better to switch to Pasolini in rocky Sardinian expanses, where Roman soldiers are stationed in codpieces. Sebastian (Leonardo Treviglio) rises from bed "like dew in a spider's web" and pours water over himself in a jubilant queer version of a gratuitous shower scene, Severus the smitten centurion (Barney James) marvels at the sight and storm away, frustrated. The warriors spend their hours fondling their swords until the young Christian outcast refuses to take part in gladiatorial games, then the martyrdom (out of Billy Budd, Un Chant d'Amour, Querelle) commences. His body is flogged, doused with milk, tied in the sand, yet Sebastian stays cool, off in his own reverie mingling faith and narcissism. ("The doors have been opened," he tells his liquid reflection.) Jarman relaxes and drinks in the spectacle, employing earthy Latin humorously ("You're worse than a Greek," goes one taunt) and painterly effects fluently (the handheld camera adopts the bound martyr's POV under the blasting sun, and suddenly gets a Mantegna). Above all, he candidly summons forth the gay spirits submerged in Hollywood epics, contrasting the mockery of the first tableau with dance-like caresses by the river. Each man kills the thing he loves, though Severus ordering Sebastian's execution also suggests the consummation of his desire for the blessed tease—penetration finally takes place via arrows, Jarman sends his saint into religious and erotic iconography in a wide-angle vista. With Neil Kennedy, Richard Warwick, Donald Dunham, Ken Hicks, and Janusz Romanov.