I never watched the original 1979 release of Caligula, but I’d seen parts of it, and I was familiar with it’s history: Bob Guccione (the guy who did Penthouse magazine) hired a bunch of well-known actors and crew to make a version of the story that told a good story without holding back on the sexual aspects, then decided to fire the director and throw in some extra hardcore sex and violence, leading to a movie that most people who worked on it didn’t want to have associated with them.
This is a recut that cuts out the bonus porn and violence, and uses formerly lost footage to make a more cohesive story that includes more acting and less schtupping. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make a good movie. And even without the bonus porn, there’s so much background sex that it loses all meaning. The whole thing is long (about three hours!) and boring. I kept thinking “it must be almost over,” then looking at my watch and seeing only ten minutes had passed.
I realized something about two thirds of the way in: Caligula is the story of a deranged leader of a country that’s gaudy, loud, pointlessly expensive, ponderous, and around for too long. It’s the Donald Trump of art house movies.