Bookended by the modern world, Pasolini then transplants classical drama to North Africa. The Sphinx and the Oracle at Delphi are portrayed as slightly ridiculous primitive figures and Oedipus, instead of being an upright individual who commits horrendous acts unknowingly, is a rather unsympathetic character. Sophocles' syuzhet is replaced with a more manageable chronological fabula yet the subtlety of the ancient drama is lost. Must-see bits of gore and sex are amplified yet in one interview Pasolini even admitted that he didn't understand what some of the original text was about - text which he leaves unattributed even if he helps himself to it once Oedipus gets to Thebes. Superficially arty and impressive, this is sadly a major disappointment from the hands of a great director.

The early and late sequences filmed within Italy are some of the best Pasolini has filmed. His confident and measured pace as well as his eye for composition and love of such basics as trees and sky and grass are a joy to behold. As for the rest, it can be very taxing. The Moroccan desert and mountain scenery is wondrous and the placing and movement of large numbers of peoples impressive but there is a lot of ponderous and somewhat languorous adherence to this titular tale. The associated screaming and passionate pondering as to the ins and outs of past events and just who did what with whom and for why become rather wearing.

I was very impressed, I really do think that this is a masterpiece! Pasolini used the original text of Sophocles' tragedy, so the story is tightly knotted, which gives the whole film a tangible urgency. There are, apart from the at times stunning amounts of extra's, only two main actors. Silvana Mangano as Giocasta only appears halfway through the movie and has hardly any lines, but she plays her part impressively by her facial expressions and her stature. Franco Citti as Oedipus is the absolute core of the movie, he dominates the screen with his rugged and fascinating face, he laughs and cries and screams, and all the time stays totally convincing as the self-assured ego-tripping hero, who gradually slips into the awareness that his whole life is based on unspeakable crimes and that he is toyed with by the gods and fate. Some reviewers opinioned he acted way over the top, but I assume it was all deliberately so orchestrated by Pasolini, emphasizing the origin of a Greek tragedy that had to be delivered from an open-air rostrum to a distant audience.

The locations are dazzlingly beautiful, Morocco in fact, not Greece, but it works wonderfully well, as do the weird costumes which look like they were sowed and tinkered by the crew or the many locals themselves, but with the amazing effect of something out of a dream (or nightmare). The musical score is extremely subtle, at many times just the soft bleak rhythmic blows of a single drumstick, with an almost haunting effect.

Strangely enough the prologue and epilogue are set in modern times, this doesn't add anything as far as I'm concerned, but as it was it gives us yet some other beautiful images, with the same vast green lawns and waving tree-tops in the opening and closing scene, completing a perfect circle.