It is a movie that people usually talk about in whispers, if they talk about it at all. Honestly, most film buffs have a "list." You know the one. It’s that mental catalog of movies they feel they should see to be considered a serious cinephile, but they keep pushing it to the bottom of the queue because, well, the reputation is terrifying. At the very top of that list usually sits Pier Paolo Pasolini’s final work. If you are looking to watch Salo: The 120 Days of Sodom, you aren't just looking for a Friday night popcorn flick. You’re looking for a confrontation.
This film isn't "fun." It’s not "disturbing" in the way a modern jump-scare horror movie is. It is a grueling, systemic, and deeply intellectual assault on the viewer's senses and moral compass. Pasolini, a Marxist, a poet, and a provocateur, didn't make this to entertain. He made it to scream about the state of the world.
What is this movie actually about?
Most people think it's just a 1970s version of Saw or Hostel. It isn't. Not even close. The film is loosely based on the unfinished 18th-century manuscript by the Marquis de Sade, but Pasolini makes a radical choice: he moves the setting to the Republic of Salò in 1944. This was a puppet state of Nazi Germany in Northern Italy during the final, desperate gasp of Mussolini’s reign.
The setup is deceptively simple. Four wealthy, powerful libertines—The Duke, The Bishop, The Magistrate, and The President—kidnap a group of eighteen teenagers. They take them to a secluded villa. There, protected by soldiers and collaborators, they subject these young people to months of systematic physical, mental, and sexual torture.
The structure follows Dante’s Divine Comedy, divided into four "circles": The Circle of Manias, The Circle of Shit, and The Circle of Blood. It is repetitive. It is clinical. And that is exactly why it’s so hard to sit through.
🔗 Read more: Love Island UK Who Is Still Together: The Reality of Romance After the Villa
The controversy that never quite died
You can't talk about this film without talking about what happened to its creator. Just weeks before the film was set to premiere in 1975, Pier Paolo Pasolini was brutally murdered. He was run over by his own car on a beach in Ostia. To this day, the circumstances remain a swamp of conspiracy theories. Was it a random act of violence by a young hustler, or was it a political assassination?
When the world finally got to watch Salo: The 120 Days of Sodom, the reaction was visceral. It was banned in dozens of countries. In the UK, the BBFC didn't give it an uncut release for decades. In Australia, it was banned, then unbanned, then banned again. The film became a legendary "video nasty" even though it had more in common with high-art philosophy than exploitation cinema.
Why would anyone actually want to watch this?
It sounds like a nightmare, right? So why does it still hold a 70%+ rating on Rotten Tomatoes? Why do the world's most prestigious film schools still study it?
Because it’s a masterpiece of political allegory.
💡 You might also like: Gwendoline Butler Dead in a Row: Why This 1957 Mystery Still Packs a Punch
Pasolini wasn't just obsessed with the 1940s. He was using the setting of Fascist Italy to talk about the "consumerist fascism" he saw emerging in the 1970s. He believed that modern capitalism treats the human body like a commodity—something to be used, consumed, and discarded. By showing the ultimate extremes of power and powerlessness, he forces the viewer to look at how power operates in the real world.
When the libertines create their "rules" in the villa, they are satirizing the way governments and corporations create laws to justify their own cruelty. It's basically a movie about the loss of human individuality. When you watch Salo: The 120 Days of Sodom, you are watching the death of the soul under the boot of absolute authority.
The aesthetic of the "Unwatchable"
The cinematography by Tonino Delli Colli is surprisingly beautiful. It uses a flat, classical style. There are no shaky cams or dramatic shadows. Everything is lit clearly. This makes the horror worse. You can’t look away into the shadows because there are no shadows. Everything is presented with a cold, detached indifference.
The acting is also strange. The four villains are often charismatic and intellectual. They quote Nietzsche and Klossowski while committing atrocities. It’s a jarring contrast that keeps you off balance. You're waiting for a hero to show up. You're waiting for a "Final Girl" or a rescue party. They never come.
📖 Related: Why ASAP Rocky F kin Problems Still Runs the Club Over a Decade Later
A warning for the curious
Look, let’s be real. If you decide to track this down—maybe through the Criterion Collection release, which is the gold standard for this film—you need to be prepared. This isn't a movie you "enjoy." It’s a movie you "survive."
There are scenes involving coprophagia (eating excrement) that are legendary for their ability to make even seasoned horror fans gag. There is a relentless bleakness that can hang over your head for days. If you have a history of trauma, or if you’re just in a bad headspace, honestly? Just skip it. You don't get a trophy for finishing it.
Common misconceptions
- It’s just porn: Absolutely not. It is intensely anti-erotic. It is designed to make the acts depicted look as miserable and unappealing as possible.
- It’s a horror movie: It’s a political drama that uses horror as its language.
- It’s poorly made: It’s actually one of the most technically precise films of its era. Every frame is composed like a Renaissance painting.
The legacy of Pasolini’s final testament
Decades later, the film’s influence is everywhere. You see echoes of it in the works of Michael Haneke, Catherine Breillat, and Lars von Trier. It pushed the boundaries of what was legally allowed to be shown on screen, not for the sake of a cheap thrill, but to test the limits of art itself.
If you choose to watch Salo: The 120 Days of Sodom, you are engaging with a piece of history that refused to be silenced by censors or critics. It remains one of the most polarizing artifacts in the history of the moving image.
Actionable steps for the brave
If you are determined to see this film, do it right. This isn't a "laptop in bed" movie.
- Context is King: Read up on the Republic of Salò and the Marquis de Sade before hitting play. Knowing the historical and literary roots makes the experience more of an intellectual exercise and less of a shock-fest.
- Seek the Criterion Edition: The restoration is vital. Older, grainy bootlegs lose the intentional "clinical" look that Pasolini worked so hard to achieve. Plus, the essays included help process what you've just seen.
- Watch with a Friend: You are going to want to talk about this afterward. Processing the themes of power and the commodification of the body is a lot easier when you have someone to bounce ideas off of.
- Know Your Limits: There is no shame in turning it off. The film is designed to be provocative, and it's perfectly valid to decide that the provocation has reached its limit for you.
- Reflect on the Message: After the credits roll, don't just move on to a sitcom. Think about Pasolini's critique of "consumerist fascism." Do you see those same patterns of dehumanization in the modern world? That's where the real value of the film lies.
The film is a mirror. It doesn't show us a monster under the bed; it shows us the monsters we are capable of becoming when we have total power over others and no moral guardrails to stop us. It’s a hard watch, but for those who can stomach it, it’s an unforgettable one.