The Canterbury Tales

Directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1972, 107 minutes

As pilgrims gather at the Tabard Inn at the start of their journey to Canterbury their host (George B Datch) suggests that they tell tales to pass the time. Pilgrims including a merchant (Peter McGregor), miller (Adrian Street), pardoner (Derek Deadman) and the Wife of Bath (Laura Betti) offer tales of life, death, lust and humour as author Geoffrey Chaucer (Pier Paolo Pasolini) listens.

‘The Canterbury Tales’ follows Pasolini’s ‘Decameron’ (1971) as the second instalment of his ‘Trilogy of Life’. Despite the stylistic continuity provided by the same creative team of Tonino Delli Colli (photography), Danilo Donati (costumes) and Dante Feretti (design) this film is visually and thematically darker than ‘Decameron’. Shot in England the difference in the quality of light is striking when the films are watched in sequence. Although some of these tales are set in summer it feels as if the year has turned. The autumnal colour palette stresses richer, darker colours, notably black and red; wintry mists and grey skies are more prevalent than the sunny and cerulean tones of the first film. Pasolini turns away from the bright, angelic works of Giotto and Raphael to the earthy physicality of Breughel and Bosch to populate Chaucer’s landscape with a host of eccentric characters.

Pasolini’s own role in the proceedings has also shifted. The fresco artist that he plays in ‘Decameron’ is cheerfully immersed in the beauties of the world which he celebrates in his painting. Pasolini’s Chaucer is a more complicated presence; after his appearance at the inn during the prologue he steps back from the action and spends most of the film sitting in his study; these shots of the writer at work echo Antonello da Messina’s painting of Saint Jerome and present the writer as aloof social critic rather than part of the community that he chronicles. As we watch Chaucer enjoying his own copy of Boccaccio’s tales in comfortable solitude, we are reminded that printed books and private reading were luxuries that most simple folk would never experience. In his Trilogy of Life Pasolini is attempting to reverse the translation of folk culture into classic literature and reclaim these tales for the people so his attitude to Chaucer remains ambivalent.

‘The Canterbury Tales’ retains the robust peasant humour of the first film but here the tone is harder and lurches occasionally into mordant cynicism. In ‘Decameron’ the authorities that govern the lives of the people are virtually invisible and the church is curiously non-judgmental in its attitudes to carnal pleasure. In ‘The Canterbury Tales’ the forces of church and state are more apparent; these hypocritical moral guardians are quick to punish any sinners who are not rich enough to bribe their way out of trouble. A gruesome public burning early in the film underlines the dangers of deviance in this authoritarian society. The devil wanders the lanes and alleys of Chaucer’s England in the suave, worldly presence of Franco Citti. He can be found cheerfully peddling griddle cakes as the hapless ‘criminal’ is roasted alive and accompanies a corrupt rent collector on his rounds. Pasolini presents a more realistic, less romantic picture of poverty here. The blank-eyed, drunken louts who kill each other for profit in the Pardoner’s Tale and the hopeless poor who cluster desperately around the feet of the wealthy are more recognisable to modern eyes than the cheery rustics of ‘Decameron’. In the first film the peasants seem primarily concerned with their immortal souls, here the concerns of the poor are more worldly and immediate.

‘Canterbury Tales’ is pacier and funnier than ‘Decameron’. Pasolini enjoys the notorious Miller’s Tale which overflows with crude sexual slapstick including an intimate red-hot poker and fart jokes. The Wife of Bath’s Tale captures all the double-edged misogyny found in the original text as it mocks gender stereotypes and gleefully debunks matrimony. It’s a pleasure to see the venerable Tom Baker as the object of the Wife of Bath’s voracious libido. It’s not every day that you get to see everyone’s favourite Time Lord with his sonic screwdriver on proud display. Even the Pardoner’s sombre tale is enlivened by a wonderfully vulgar brothel sequence where ‘cheeky’ seventies sex icon Robin Asquith urinates copiously on the assembled punters. The Summoner’s Tale features an irresistible torrent of sexual innuendo worthy of the ‘Carry On…’ series as two libidinous students wreak havoc on a sanctimonious miller’s household. The Reeve’s Tale finishes this rather rich banquet with an appropriately dyspeptic nightmare: A colourful trip to hell where cavorting demons vigorously torture the wicked as Satan expels a torrent of friars from his arse. This sequence presents a startling contrast the more serene vision of the last judgement which ends ‘Decameron’ and instead recreates the lurid frescoes of damnation found on medieval church walls to remind churchgoers of the wages of sin.

The soundtrack, collated by Pasolini and Ennio Morricone employs a fruity range of catchy English folk tunes to complement the film’s pungent atmospherics. English viewers of a certain age will have the extra fun of spotting 1970’s character and television actors in minor roles and trying to identify the historic locations. Not everyone will share Pasolini’s affection for silent comedy and here, as in ‘Decameron’ we are treated to Ninetto Davoli’s Chaplinesque clowning, this time accompanied by some mediaeval Keystone Cops. The tonal shift feels more strained in this darker film and shakes the film’s period ambience. Some viewers may be disappointed by Pasolini’s change to Chaucer’s cleverer and funnier resolution of the Merchant’s Tale; in the text the merchant’s wife explains her arboreal sexual shenanigans with considerable creativity and convoluted wit, persuading her cuckolded husband that he should be grateful for her saintly act of self-sacrifice.

Black humour and a dose of spicy social realism give this installation of Pasolini’s trilogy extra bite. In some ways ‘Canterbury Tales’ foreshadows the unremitting darkness of his final film ‘Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom’ (1975) but here Pasolini provides just enough joyful excess to keep the viewer pleasantly entertained. ‘Canterbury Tales’ is lewd, hilarious, and robust as a jug of real ale, but be warned, too much beer can cause flatulence.

Quotes:

“The peasecod who serves as a sacristan and thinks only of decking himself out and eyeing females? They say he minds his words and is squeamish about farting.” – The Carpenter (Michael Balfour)

“Rufus, go and piss on your whore’s head” – Reveller (Robin Asquith)

“You’ll die laughing…” – Alison (Jenny Runacre)

Connections

Film

‘A Canterbury Tale’ directed by Powell and Pressburger (1944)

‘The Decameron’ directed by Per Paolo Pasolini (1970)

‘The Arabian Nights’ directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini (1974)

‘Immoral Tales’ directed by Walerian Borowczyk (1974)

‘Jabberwocky’ directed by Terry Gilliam (1977)

‘Memoirs of a Sinner’ directed by Wojciech J Has (1985)

‘Faust’ directed by Jan Svankmajer (1994)

‘Pasolini’ directed by Abel Ferrara (2014)