Maciste in der Hölle

What an odd confection of Roman mythology and Christian fairy tale in this underworld battle, "Maciste in Hell." The film may also be illustrative of the development of a cinema with a target audience of largely boys, with an emphasis on juvenile fantasy and visual effects that extends all the way to the mainstream of "Star Wars" (1977) and, by extension, the comic-book movies that dominate today's market.

First, there are two ports of entry here that I'm familiar with, of which this film is a consequence. Directly, there's the 1914 epic "Cabiria," which introduced the Maciste character, a popular personality of Italian silent cinema. Reportedly, strongman Bartolomeo Pagano (actually, he was a stevedore before entering the movie business) starred in thirteen films as this character between 1915 and 1926, and the giant would continue past the silent era with his revival in the 1960s. "Cabiria" was also the pinnacle of the early feature-length spectacle pictures made in Italy in the early 1910s. The sets and sheer grandeur of it had a direct influence on D. W. Griffith's productions of "The Birth of a Nation" (1915) and "Intolerance" (1916).

The other influence on this is the féeries (fairy films) of Georges Méliès, the original cine-magician who practically invented children's movies, as well as popularizing the early cinema trick effects that still largely comprise the visual effects of "Maciste in Hell," namely multiple-exposure photography and stop-substitution splicing. Méliès also had a flair for theatrical set design, and the production design overall in "Maciste in Hell" is arguably more Méliès than it is "Cabiria," not least because it's simply not that big of an epic.

What the cavernous hellscape here especially reminds me of, though, is the original 1936 "Flash Gordon" serial (although it was a comic first). I could certainly see Flash riding around on a dragon, wrestling demons and trying to rescue damsels whilst often not displaying any outward sexual interest in them. As many I'm sure know, "Flash Gordon" was a major influence on "Star Wars," and this should be quite apparent to anyone who has seen both series. They're both basically chapter-play shoot-'em-up Westerns in outer space--to a large extent, what the Marvel Cinematic Universe is for today's generation.

This is otherwise what I found most dull about "Maciste in Hell." It's a simplistic battle of good and evil. Childishly so. Maciste's spell in Hell best illustrates this point. Being a living being from Earth, he can't spend more than three days in the underworld (because decrees, or something--Hades apparently having its own constitutional monarchy and government institutions). That is unless he commit the gravest sin: kissing a woman. A lot of emphasis in this picture on the dangers of female sexuality. I guess it's one way to get pre-adolescent male audiences invested in the suspense of romantic kissing. When Maciste inevitably surrenders to their feminine wiles, he's punished--now, get this--by hair growing in all sorts of odd places on his body. What a laughable puberty metaphor. He also becomes stronger, or super-strong. Essentially, he's a hairy X-Men mutant or that werewolf from the "Twilight" series, which are all silly adolescent allegories, too. I mean, c'mon, what did you think the teenage Spiderman ejaculating silk from his wrists was supposed to represent?

This isn't "Faust," as Maciste unnecessarily points out--and unflatteringly considering that F. W. Murnau's vastly superior devil-themed film, "Faust" (1926), was released around the same time. Neither is this, regardless of its Italian origins, Dante's "Inferno," which was made into one of Italy's first longer films in 1911. This is also despite the Pordenone Silent Film Festival screening what constitutes a warhorse print by comparison to the other new restorations they program ("Maciste in Hell" being restored back in 2009, as based on one from 1993, and the film already being fairly accessible, including existing in various shapes on YouTube) ostensibly in celebration of the 700th anniversary of the death of Dante Alighieri. No, this is kiddie stuff.

That's not to say it's not well made and sometimes entertaining, lackadaisical though the plot may be. Although the trick effects aren't much of anything new, some of them are pretty good and sometimes used as scene transitions. A bit with a dismembered head when Mastice first enters Hades looks good. I especially like the film-within-film visions for the underworld to watch life on Earth, although such visions, too, are a multiple-exposure trick extending back to early cinema. Their use as surveillance is relatively novel, though. The editing, especially early on, is choppy, but that's kind of refreshing compared to the snail pace of little to no scene dissection in the early Italian epics such as "Cabiria." Plus, it's evident the print is pretty beat up, with scratches and cuts and other marks flashing on screen here and there. For obvious reasons, there's considerable red tinting and pyrotechnics.

As for the underworld battle, there's the Lucifer devil trying to usurp King Pluto, although why the devil brought Maciste down there to fight on the opposing side before starting this civil war seems an enormous blunder. So, it's the old gods versus the new, the two major religions to spring from Rome (albeit both by way of the Levant). Granted, I've read that the film went through some censorship issues over its religious depictions, which reportedly delayed its release in Italy, but I'm just going off the restoration that I saw. Interesting that Roman mythology reigns supreme in Hades here, including guest appearances by the likes of Charon (not just a concierge from the "John Wick" franchise) and Minos, while Christianity seems to have decidedly taken control above, as indicated by the Christmas-theme denouement. Maciste is also decidedly a Hercules figure. Yet, in the end, "Maciste in Hell" specifically frames itself as a fairy tale, alluding to its true origins in those Méliès féeries--the worship of visions on a wall, the church of cinema.