Death in Venice

An Italian production about the death of not just someone but their entire life's meaning. Based on the book by Thomas Mann it focuses on a music composer Gustav Von Auschenbach. He's stricken by ennui. After arriving in the city of Italy he finds new passion for his work. But after a failed performance he starts to doubt his ability. That all changes when he sees a young boy with his mother. There is a lot of meandering shots in this whole thing; the two main leads don't even interact for most of the time. The real character that stands out next to the fantastic scenery is the score. Gives it enough of a dramatic edge. It's a bit empty when it comes to emotional heft though. But it does remind us there's almost no escape from the passage of time catching up to us all.

A magnificent film, and one which I never tire of rewatching. It's best on a large screen because of the magnificent visuals. Some describe the movie as too slow, or even boring. Despite my tendency towards impatience, I did not find the film tedious in any way.

Slow and boring without an output.

Luchino Visconti's Death in Venice: I had heard of this movie for years and saw that it was, being offered on TCM and I had time to watch it, or so I thought. I will cut to the chase, it was too long, yes, parts of it were stunning to watch, to see the recreation of the early 20th century hotel, the "hats" (seemed over the top, if you will and extravagant) but I will move on. Everything was slow, you could read a chapter of a book as the camera time and again slowly pans a room, a street, a beach, a family walking to and from somewhere (no reason given, they just walk) as if we needed lots of time in nearly every scene to get the idea. Long. Long boat rides, long walks, distant camera shots of people crossing the sand, the walkways, the piazzas, etc., then in one excruciating scene of entertainers at the hotel on the veranda, I thought I would go mad, it went on and on, there was nothing great about it, it was dull, and as if to make some of us even more crazy, it was brought back as an encore! The combo of musicians featured a near toothless guitar player and other players, I assume it was for comic relief (NOT!) and was a dreadful annoying scene within this slow-paced film. All of it moved nothing forward it added nothing in my opinion to the beautiful boy Tadzio, standing at the rail while the closeted Count Aschenbach stares at him from a nearby table. In fact, there is a lot of starring. The beautiful boy and the Count Aschenbach never speak, they just look longingly at each other for dozens if not more times, they meet, nearly head on a few times, they do not speak, no one speaks, never. I watched half of the film one evening and finished it (growing ever restless with each scene) the next evening, resuming watching it with some deep stomach stabbing dread. When Count Aschenbach dies on the beach while sweating his hair color down his cheeks, while watching the beautiful boy grow distant into the smooth ocean water, I was glad he was dead, I was glad the movie was finally over. TMI in this film, it is spoiled due to a director who couldn't bring himself to throw away half of the film to make a good film. Every word written is not sacred (that's why we have editors) and every scene in a movie is not worth making an audience sit through it and watch the ego trip that it becomes.

people saying this is art and a masterpiece....did we watch the same thing? all i saw was a boring movie about a pedophile stalking a teenage boy. story was slow and confusing at times. some of the interactions(staring at each other) of the man and the pretty boy were uncomfortable to watch. it was hard to distinguish what was reality vs memory/imagination of the man. overall i do not recommend this movie. came for the beautiful boy, left with creeper vibes.

A beautiful and thought provoking film.

This film, undoubtedly one of the most noteworthy on the subject of queer representation, showcases Visconti's brilliance in image storytelling, comparable to that of Mann in literature.

Ugly unpleasant predatory movie thin on story.

Is art the province of the mind or of the heart? To our protagonist it is the former, achievable solely by the artist's methodical construction. But his view is challenged first by the rejection of his discordant, experimental musical composition, and then, while convalescing in Venice from a nervous breakdown, by the irrational attraction he feels toward a youth whose beauty could never be quantified, and yet utterly captures him. This tragic story is also one of redemption, and director Visconti tells it to us through the misty veil of fin de siècle Venice, with haunting soundtrack by Mahler. In the best Italian expressionist tradition, every scene is a work of art. So many reviewers, Roger Ebert among them, got this movie completely wrong. They perceive the protagonist's obsession with an adolescent as sexual, whereas the author, Thomas Mann, intended it to represent the pursuit of unattainable beauty. And thus we witness the protagonist's dilemma: He must choose either to be consistent with his blinkered definition of art, or through his potentially transformative experience, learn to accept art's consequence, beauty, as both irrational and yet convincing without a heartbeat of rationalization. Either way, his choice will require that he pay a heavy price.

I thought this movie was awful, I wanted so badly to like it. There were shots that were definitely breathtaking but all in all it was a boring movie, that didn't really feel like it had a solid plot, and in which it exploited a minor. He didn't even have a single conversation with the boy that he claimed to love, yet the relationship he had with him was so inherently sexual and uncomfortable. It was very painful watch, truly.