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Memorable, crazy movie

This movie was so-so. It had it's moments, but wasn't the greatest.

The film makes a home in your brain and the only cure is to see it again.

This is a small, humorous movie in some ways, but it has a huge heart. What a nice experience.

The last scene of Pasolini's wondrous Canterbury Tales emphasizes the narrative as an end in itself - "here end the Canterbury tales, told only for the pleasure of telling them" - and this reflects the film's sense of joyous tumble, one narrative often almost subliminally moving into another. But there's also something relentless about it, a feeling of people lacking in any real agency over themselves, as puppets of their own desires, as tools of those whose desires are stronger than their own, of the corrupt authorities, of the angels and devils which the film occasionally depicts as walking among the living. There's carnal overdrive and naturalistic nudity galore, and of course the film carries an erotic charge, but one that leads time and again to humiliation, misery, betrayal, pain, or death, and ultimately even beyond that, to one of the most tangible visions of hell ever put on film. The film is a triumph not so much of casting in the usual sense, but of human placement - an astonishing canvas of flesh and faces, suggesting people torn directly from the Medieval earth (the matchless English-language soundtrack, if you choose that option, adds considerably to this sense, when not evoking Monty Python, not that I'm saying that's a bad thing); and whether or not the various settings are historically accurate, they likewise feel discovered rather than created. At the same time, there's no doubt we're watching a work of extreme stylization, and not just in the episode that happily channels Charlie Chaplin; characters generally seem to be addressing the camera, or the void beyond it, more than each other. Which leads back to the movie's sense of desperation, that few of its possessed characters expects more from their compulsive screwing than the most fleeting of releases. The classification of the film as part of a "trilogy of life" seems, to say the least, ironic.

Uneven, with some mildly interesting stories and some pointless ones.Based on Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales, Pier Paulo Pasolini's adaptation doesn't do the book much justice. Many of the stories are plain dull and pointless. Some are interesting, but then end anti-climatically. (This is worse, in a way, as you get your hopes up of a decent story, and then it doesn't really go anywhere). Quite similar to Pasolini's previous work, The Decameron, in many respects. Also doesn't have anything that ties the stories together (although The Decameron did at least have a summarising statement at the end, which was reasonably profound).Performances here are better than the The Decameron, though there are some absolute shockers again. The lead character in the Chaplinesque scene involving the egg salesman takes the cake in terms of hammy acting.

I'm rather bemused by some of the negative comments above. This film - in my humble opinion - is one of the greatest ever made, and my personal favourite of all P.P. Pasolini's. Pasolini brings life to Chaucer in a way my poor teachers at school could never have dared. In the film, Pasolini casts himself as Chaucer; daydreaming, laughing at his own tales, being berated by his wife. And therein lies the clue to this film. It's not just an interpretation of the Canterbury Tales, it's a portrayal of its author. For all claims of "smut" (see above), I can honestly say that your imagination must be pretty dull not to laugh at certain earthy, dream-like scenes. Absolutely non of the scenes in this movie can be branded as bad-taste. They're absolutely accurate. Pasolini showed deep understanding of the English psyche throughout; the examples are too numerous to mention. If you're looking for an explanation of The Canterbury Tales, you won't find it in this film. But if you're looking for how to go about interpreting it for yourself, you'll find no better. This movie is one that I will keep, and you can bet my kids are going to see it when they get a little older too.

If you watched this movie in order to get a crib of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, you'd be out of luck, and missing the point. Chaucer's underlying anti-clerical and pro-love-and-life philosophy may be there, but the substance is very different. Pasolini's 14th century England lives and dresses more like 16th Century Italy.The Miller's Tale is much grimmer when brought to the screen than Chaucer would have intended. "And Nicholas is branded on the bum, And God bring all of us to Kingdom Come" in Coghill's cheerful popular translation, becomes something more like the execution of Edward II. Not just on, but in. And the execution of a sodomite too poor to bribe his way off the griddle seems drawn out just to make a bad joke about the seller of "griddle cakes" (frittelli) plying his trade in the crowd.He is one of the more than fair share of handsome young men in the film, and there's more than a fair share of closeups of their middle regions, front and back, in tight-fitting breeches (not that I'm complaining).One feature that is almost entirely absent is any sense of pilgrimage. The storytellers appear only at the beginning and end of the tale. Instead we cut back to Chaucer himself (Pasolini himself, and very handsome he is too), writing the tales at a snail's pace. There are also long (by 2006 standards) tracking shots over indifferent scenery. Yet other scenes jump disconcertingly, the start of one tale used to mark the end of the previous one.