Depraved Films for the Soul (movies to make you question everything)

Well, look who it is, back again. Hello everybody, welcome back to my channel, or welcome if you're new here. We talked about books a few weeks ago, and now we're going to be talking about film. Because knowing me and how I talk, there's no way I could fit all of that into one video. So I decided to make two different videos. And, uh, for this video, we're going to be talking about films that are depraved.

Depraved means, uh, morally corrupt or wicked. And it's interesting to talk about depraved films, uh, because, of course, if you know anything about film at all, you would know that there was like the Hays Code, right? So it was this, uh, imparting of a moral structure to films. The femme fatale could no longer live on with her life, she had to be transformed. For example, she could not, the bad guy couldn't win. There could not be an ambiguous ending to a film, or a, uh, especially a morally ambiguous one. Because, they thought that it would influence the viewer to also be morally corrupt, or that these films were endorsing bad behavior, advocating for wayward behavior.

And now, I think that that takes a lot away from the viewer. It can be useful, but I think that there is a lot to learn from depraved films. There's a lot to learn about depraved behavior in general, to witness those things, and to know that not everything is a happy ending, and that there are people out there that are bad. There is evil out there. And I think it's important to know what that looks like, and to know its many forms, and to ask questions.

So I want to talk about some of my favorite depraved films with you guys, uh, talk about their plots a little bit, and, uh, why I think they're important, and why I think they ask important questions. But I say "depraved films for the soul" because the soul needs room to grow, and the soul needs boundaries. And I think that these, these types of films definitely, uh, provide hard boundaries. But I think it's important to know also, the soul needs to explore and, and to know what, what is out there, what reality, what life entails, uh, what is hidden in the dark, shadowy corners of, uh, experience and existence.

So the first film that I'm going to talk about, hopefully I don't get too crazy talking about all of these, is going to be Hannibal. And I'm talking about the film named Hannibal from 2001. I, I just recently watched this film, fell in love with it. I cried, I was touched, um, by a film about a man who eats people, and the relationship between someone like Hannibal and, uh, Clarice Starling, somebody who is an opposite, a foil to him, right? Now, if you, I'm sure you guys are familiar with the Hannibal Lecter films. They are also books. And, uh, I did not know that until I did some research, uh, because I was very interested in the relationship between Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling. Uh, but most of you guys are probably have watched Silence of the Lambs, that's the first one, and then Hannibal is the one that succeeds that.

So the film Hannibal, I don't, I'm not going to like give to, there's going to be spoilers. Yeah, there's going to be spoilers. I'm sorry. So I'm not going to get too much into the nitpicky. I'm not going to be too into the plots of each of these. I'm going to speak about certain parts of these films that move me, and and why those specific parts, or how a character is built, or anything like that. I'm going to be speaking why those, those raise questions, and why I think they're important questions.

And all that, when you watch Hannibal, people loved Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs because he's extremely charismatic, he's intelligent. But in Hannibal, in the second film, we get to really, we see it's more about him, uh, and Starling, and the forces behind them, what they symbolize. Hannibal is clearly outside of the law. He clearly has his own sense of morality and a code of conduct, which is what is so fascinating about Hannibal Lecter. He is an aesthete. It's obvious in the second film, he lives in Florence, um, the way that he, uh, he works for a library, you know, an ancient library, and is just living among beautiful objects, and learning every day, and just, uh, living among some of the most beautiful, uh, living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, right? And Hannibal clearly has an appreciation for aesthetics. It's well known that Hannibal's almost sense of like, who, who he chooses to, to hurt, to maim, to eat, has a lot to do with, um, his aversion to rudeness, and, uh, somebody's lack of politeness. And, uh, I think that Hannibal has an extreme sense of chivalry, and, uh, he has his own code. Even, even though Hannibal is the most monstrous criminal that any person can probably imagine, which is what I find so interesting, because he is outside of the law, and yet he still has, uh, he is on the 10 most wanted list, yet he still has a sense of, he has a code of conduct, he has a code of ethics. He says he prefers to eat the rude, right? Um, and there's, there's a point where Clarice Starling is, is talking about how Hannibal Lecter, uh, murders somebody in the philharmonic or orchestra because they were out of tune or something like that, um, because he wanted to make the, the orchestra sound better, so they would replace that person with somebody else. Which I think is very interesting. It's the most extreme way of doing it, but to him, he thinks he's doing it as a public service, almost. And that's said in the film, right?

And I think that Clarice Starling empathizes with him. And in the books, they, they fall in love. I don't know if anybody's read the books, but him and Clarice become lovers for years in the books. I think the reason why is because both of them do have very strong senses of, uh, ethics, but they are on opposite ends of that. Clarice Starling is an FBI agent, while Hannibal Lecter is somebody that the FBI tries to find and contain and possibly execute, right? But they come together in the center because Clarice, in Hannibal, in this film, in the 2001 film, she is, she is changed immediately because she thinks she's doing her job, right? She's being told to do her job the way that she's supposed to do it, and then she gets stabbed in the back. She becomes a pariah. She, no, she loses faith in the system, in the governmental system, right? And Hannibal sees this, and he pulls this out of her, that she has this kind of, she now rejects the very kind of like father figure, right, of of the government. And and now she's gone rogue. Uh, and this is where they come together, and they find a common ground. And I think that's fascinating.

Now, the reason why I talk, I'm going to, I can talk about Hannibal all day long. I think Hannibal is a, is a phenomenal character, especially since he is an aesthete, especially since on top of all this, he, he finds, uh, he goes out of his way to live a life of beauty. Uh, I do not, I am not aware of any other serial killer murderer, uh, in the public eye like this, that is also an aesthete and that prioritizes beauty, and actually will murder for beauty. Rudeness, or, uh, lack of wit, or lack of education, or whatever, is is something to be extinguished through murder. I think is is absolutely fascinating. And that's, that's a very Oscar Wilde, you know, theory, you know, that beauty, uh, in order to maintain beauty, you can, you can do absolutely anything to maintain that order. You're acting on a different code. But I think that this, so this is the reason why, obviously, Hannibal is like the epitome of what is depraved. Yet, this, this film, because he is juxtaposed with Clarice Starling, who is, who is law and order, right? We, we now pose this question of what is right and wrong. Who is doing the public service here? Is it Hannibal, the way he thinks it is, or is it Clarice? And they, uh, how do they come together? You know, what is this gray area in between that they now inhabit? So I think that's important to ask, you know, it's, it's questioning authority, it's questioning alternative ways of, of life, alternative, uh, life philosophies, moral philosophies, and virtues. That is why Hannibal is number one on the, the depraved films for the soul list.

The second movie on the list for depraved films for the soul is going to be Black Narcissus. This is an old film, it's from 1947. Visually a stunning film. There are lots of depraved films that are visually stunning. And one of them, I will, is probably the most horri, it is probably the most horrific film on this list, which I will talk about later, that is also the most beautiful. Save that one, one for last. But Black Narcissus is about a group of nuns that are sent to the Himalayas to actually stay in a temple in, in the Himalayas. They are in a completely different, which I find this so interesting, right? You have somebody of a certain faith being displaced and to do their work in a space that is not their own. It's the ultimate test, you know, to be put in a foreign and opposing environment to what you believe. There's not too much going on in the, there is a character that questions her vow of celibacy, and she loses her absolute mind, and she's almost pushed towards murder towards the end. Again, spoilers alert. There are other nuns trying to do their work, and they, and they find it more and more difficult, uh, throughout the film, and they question their faith, and they, and they question their vows, and their austere lifestyle, and their aesthetic lifestyle, because they're in, uh, such a naturally beautiful place. Um, and I believe that there is a part of the film where one of the nuns says that she needs to leave, that she cannot work and do God's work in this area anymore, in the, uh, in the temple, because, uh, she can't concentrate because the surrounding area is so beautiful to look at, and because, uh, the wind blows in a certain way, and the smell, you know, it excites too much in her. It reminds me a lot of monks too, that, uh, certain monks do not even eat things like, uh, garlic, because it excites the spirits too much. Which I, I totally understand as somebody that is very passionate, and I get, uh, I'm absorbed in in my surroundings a lot, and I, and I get, I'm very energetic. I totally understand how something like as silly as garlic, and, and the something tasting phenomenal, can just take you out of a plateau-like state, or a meditative-like state of calm and peace and serenity. So I totally understand how this woman is trying to live a life that is so fixated on God, and live a life that's, uh, very aesthetic, disciplined. A nun's life is filled with, often times, like torture. It's really not like, it's not the most fun you can have. And it's not meant to be, uh, it's meant to be a struggle every day, from what I've read about it. And to witness something so, so, so beautiful, to be on the top of a mountain, and to smell the air, and to see the, the changing clouds, you know, moving over top of the peaks, and of course, it would make you think about something grander than your, than your little plot on this Earth, to think about what God needs of you, right? It makes you think in a more broad way.

I think that's so interesting that when your world is small, it's so much easier to control everything. And that's, and that's what discipline is. That's what, uh, vows of celibacy are, are any kind of any kind of restriction that we, that we have as human beings, that's making the world smaller and less chaotic. The, the woman, the woman that ends up like, not falling in love, I think she has a lot of lust for one of the men that, uh, frequents the, the temple, and she is driven to a kind of madness. And then she ends up, uh, wanting to push another nun off of, off of the cliff. So this is depraved in that way, that that woman becomes depraved, and she, she is the ultimate form of breaking free. The wind, beauty, and earthly delights, and all this have affected her to the point where she, she falls from grace, quite literally. She actually dies, um, but she's the one that falls. She's the one that falls off of the, the edge of the cliff, rather than than the woman she tries to push. If you, if you are a pious person, if you are a Christian or a Catholic or anything, that woman would, would be considered depraved to you, which is why I'm talking about it. Yes, I think that this, this film asks the question of whether or not faith, let's say, or discipline, or morals, or ethics are strong enough to keep you from chaos, from lust, from sins, from, from doing bad things, you know? One day, that something can be so beautiful, you can have such lust for somebody, and, and all of your morals, everything is out the window. It's like, is that how fragile, how fragile our beliefs are? It's actually funny because White Oleander talks about this very much too, uh, someone like Ingrid Magnussen, who, who holds her, her belief so strong, as soon as she falls in love with somebody, it's all out the window, right? Chaos reigns. That's the, that's the question. It's like, how strong are our, our attempts to combat nature and chaos? That's what this film, I think, asks us.

The third film is going to be Under the Skin. Under the Skin is from 2013. I waited for this film to come out. I was so, so excited for this film. Under the Skin is based off of a book by Michael Faber. And I just want to say this because in Under the Skin, if you've never watched it, is a very quiet film. And thank God, I love it. I love it for that reason. There's not a lot of dialogue going on, so you wouldn't even know what Scarlett Johansson's name is. You don't even know she's an alien. I should probably say that, right? Under the Skin is about an alien who takes the form of a woman, and wears, wears a female's body like a suit in order to prey on men, so that she can, uh, seduce them. The, the men's bodies, their organs, their flesh, everything is harvested, okay? Now, that's all you would know from the film. It's, it's, it's clear that there's some kind of, they're taking the blood and, and guts and, and everything from these men. But if you read the book, one, Scarlett Johansson's name is, is Isserley, which I think is a beautiful name. I would name my kid that. I think it's an awesome name. Isserley, or Isserley One, that's her name. Two, the reason why she, uh, is seducing these men is to, uh, their organs and their meat. The meat of human beings is a delicacy from the planet that she's from. The rich on her planet eat people. And that's all cool. That's interesting to know. But you don't need to know that to watch the film.

But the way that the film is, uh, done, the score by, uh, Mica Levi is unnerving and perfect. Halfway, halfway music, and halfway noise, perfect for that kind of film. But when you watch the film, I love that there is not a lot of dialogue, because it is, it is a kind of surrealistic in some points, feminine film. And feminine, feminine films don't need a lot of words. A lot of it is seen through shots, through action. Like, uh, when I, when I say this movie is depraved, there's, there's a very uncomfortable moment, I'm sure for most people who don't even watch films like this, maybe this is your first time watching it, a, watching a film of this nature. There is a point in the film where Isserley is dragging a dead body of, of a man that she had been hunting on the beach. He drowns, and she's dragging this body across the screen. And this man's child is on a blanket and crying because it's cold, and because it's alone. This baby's father is no longer there. And it just gets darker, and you just keep, you keep, you are hearing this baby crying for a long time, longer than necessary. It's drawn out on purpose, because you don't need words. She doesn't need to look over at the baby. She doesn't need to do anything but ignore the baby, right? Which is the, the absolute impulse. That's the most human, feminine impulse is to, you hear a crying baby, what do we do? Let's go and take it. Let's, let's, let's make sure that it has food. Let's love it. Let's take care of it. Where are its parents? Its parents are dead. Let's do something about that, right? And of course, because she is an alien, she does not have those human impulses, instincts. There is no maternal instinct in her. And for this reason, right, you have a depraved film. You have the classic feminine archetypal instincts are inverted and changed. You have the idea that like a man chases a woman, and it's the other way around, or a man preys on a woman. This is a woman preying on men, because they are pieces of meat, literal pieces of meat, like a delicacy to be eaten.

And this film, towards the end, which it's clear that this happens to pretty much every alien that goes through this, this job, this type of occupation, that they eventually gain a conscience. They, they witness some kind of kindness, or even something very trivial, and they, they find that they relate to human beings, even if in the beginning they do not. Because early in the book, in Michael Faber's book, is early thinks human beings are like disgusting. She thinks they're horrible. She doesn't like them. But she eventually empathizes with them throughout the book, and finds herself in them. I, I like this film because of, because it's making statements about the reversal, uh, when it comes to men and women. It's, it's known because Scarlett Johansson is, uh, very attractive, and she's meant to look very appealing to men. Is, uh, Isserley in the book talks all the time about her appearance, and talks all the time about how, how this man might perceive her, in various scenarios, which is something that women think about all the time. It's like the male gaze, right? When we're alone, or otherwise, we're thinking about how we're being perceived all the time. But in the book, uh, or in the film, in Under the Skin, this is, this is done not to be loved and to be taken care of, but it's done as a tool. How do I look? How am I posed up? How is this going to attract this person to me so that I can, can use them? It's not done to be, it's not done in a, a human, empathetic, I want to fall in love, I want to, it's not done in a social way, in a practical, objective way.

And then, of course, once Isserley gets to the point where she empathizes with human beings, the worst, I'm not going to say it here. If you've watched the film, if you know what I'm talking about, then you'll know what I'm going to say. The worst possible thing happens to her at the end, and then she's murdered. She's set on fire in the end. So you come full circle. There's like this, this, uh, lack of empathy for human beings, and then there's empathy, like the highest form of that, which she, she kind of, uh, maybe not falls in love, but she really likes, uh, somebody who, who she meets. So it comes to this point where there's like intimacy and almost love, right? And then she's, right after that, comes in direct contact with the physical opposite of that in the same scenario, and then she dies. So it poses a question about, uh, regarding, uh, humanity, you know? As soon as you empathize, and you, you gain this almost like feminine type of social empathy, and you know, love and care, and for, it seems like for Isserley, for, like, the whole planet, there is this, this, uh, beautiful scene, right? Where she is witnessing all these different people, and they're, they're superimposed on top of each other, and over and over again, and it's this physical representation of this worldly love, of loving everything, falling in love with, with life and people and being alive. You have this, and then, and then the worst imaginable thing can happen to you. A crime against your absolute, your body, your nature, everything. The worst possible thing about humanity happens. Is seeing this in film discourage us as, as human beings? Are you going into the world with empathy and love? Is that naive? Are you being vulnerable doing that? I like those questions.

The next one I'm going to be talking about is probably one of the most up ones ever. Uh, trigger warning, it's about, it's about, uh, uh. So this book, this film is called Festen, which is the Danish translation. It is the 1998 film Celebration by, uh, Thomas Vinterberg. Which, if you know who Lars von Trier is, if you've ever watched like Antichrist, Melancholia, Nymphomaniac, all that, Lars von Trier, Thomas Vinterberg, they're part of like the Dogme movement. They're all kind of related. So I knew about Thomas Vinterberg and this film because of Lars von Trier.

So Celebration is fascinating because it is a family reunion in which the son, uh, eventually makes a speech, where they confront the fact that their father has abused them. Abused, okay? In the most severe way. So what happens? So he, he makes this speech, and it starts out really cheerful and great, and then he ends it with, "He did this to me." Me. And there is just this silence. And then there isn't silence. The rest of the film is a blatant denial of the fact that this man just went out to tell everybody about his abuse. His entire family, that his father's a monster, and everyone ignores it. The party, the party, the reunion goes on as normal. Which, everything, you know, things slowly start to degrade, okay, over time. And eventually, the children confront the father altogether, and he apologizes for whatever that's worth, or whatever. So all of these things are going on. This entire setup, this, this dinner party, this kind of, uh, this formal, polite gathering is poisoned by the fact that this, this son has brought to light the most horrific thing that a dad can do, right? It degrades over time, but you can see how hard the denial is. The denial is potent, personified by the party, right? The denial, people, people ignoring what he had said, the party going on as normal, people shifting around, moving around, nobody asking questions, conversations going on as normal, that the, uh, the children are just going on and, and, and not talking about it further. They're having normal conversations after the fact, after this, this thing had been put out into the air.

I think this film is depraved for obvious reasons, but I think it, it goes to show how strong our illusions are, how strong our, some structures that we have put in place are, in order to not only battle chaos and things like that, but also to inhibit us from dealing with uncomfortable things like emotions, to deal, to, uh, that are in that realm of chaos, right? Propriety and manners and all of these micro structures that we have in place too, have in certain circles made it impossible for a person to be themselves, to speak truth. And they will even be denied and put down because they do not fall within, uh, within the realm of respectable behavior. Because apparently, speaking out about something, something horrific, a crime, even, right? That's just not polite. That's not kosher for you to be saying that at this family reunion right now, okay? But it's exactly the kind of thing that needs to happen. It needed to be said in front of all of these people. It's supposed to stun because it's so horrific. But sometimes crimes, or horrific things, disturbing things, are so horrific, they cannot be believed. They are denied on the spot. Our, our illusions can be so, so ingrained, so strong, that we will deny reality, truth. And this is coming from somebody that loves illusion. Illusion is an agent of beauty. I myself have have chosen, chosen illusion over reality because I found that it suited me more, or maybe I just can't handle reality sometimes. I think it poses that question, you know, how strong are those illusions that we have? How will they affect our conduct, our behavior, our morals, our ethics? What, what will that do to somebody, to their personality, to their life? How will truth pushing through somebody's illusions and false perceptions of oneself, will that hurt them? You know, some people are driven, their illusions are so strong that they are driven to, to off themselves, to kill themselves, because they can't deal with the reality. They can't believe that something like that could ever happen. That's how strong some of those things are.

So I think that that, I mean, this also, this also is in the same vein, I think, as as people who think they're doing right, but are actually doing wrong, because their illusion of greatness has drifted so far from its original intent, right? That they, they still have this, this perceived idea that they are moral and ethical, and yet they can, let's say, cause famine, they can massacre people. You know, we see this all the time. But it, but it comes from an idea that's all the way over here, and we're still talking about this, but we're also murdering people. We're also denying this crime. Where we're saying it's in the sake of this or that. And there's so much disillusionment, cognitive dissonance, so much that happens from here to there. Those are the things that I think of when I watch, when I watch Celebration. When I watch that film, I think, I think that's a fantastic way. You, you say something horrific at a dinner party, and everybody just goes on as normal because they can't face it. It's too intense. It's too much. Everybody's got their own level of illusion that needs to be dissolved throughout the, throughout the rest of the film. And this, this poison, to use like the words of The Virgin Suicides, you know, spreading the poison in the air, and slowly, slowly, over time, over the evening, it's dissolved. But yeah, great film, very cool.

Another depraved film we can talk about that is that's also in the realm of, uh, is The Cement Garden. Now, if you like Charlotte Gainsbourg, I certainly do, then you'll, you'll probably like any of her films, really. Charlotte is known for taking roles that are transgressive, that are irreverent, and of course, because of that, they make us ask questions. She often times is a character that would be described as depraved. The Cement Garden is simple. It was in 1993, by the way. The Cement Garden is about a family where the mother and father die very quickly, like one after after another. And so the children, the children, like they're not children, but they're in their teens, and they are basically left to fend for themselves. And so the film ends with the ultimate regressive act of the brother and sister having intimacy together. And I think this is a fascinating film because of that ending, because you have the, the official, the parents, the structure of these children's lives, which which maintain order, law and order in their lives, right, is now gone. Their foundation has been taken away from them. And so they regress. They regress back. And the ultimate form of regression is that it's a, it's a eating of oneself, right? And because they can't, they can't handle one being alone and, and like living a normal life. The house becomes an absolute pigsty after the parents die over time, you know, they just, they cannot take care of themselves, they don't know how. And the reason why it's called The Cement Garden is because the parents are buried in cement. They bury them in like these lockers, and they pour cement over top of them. And because bodies bloat whenever they decompose, and all kinds of nasty stuff comes out of them, the cement cracks open. And one of the other lovers of Charlotte's character, I can't remember her name, uh, actually while they're having their intimate act at the end, the boyfriend sees the state of the place, sees that the brother and sister, the family is like too far gone, and he goes to, to, uh, pick away at the concrete, to take the dead body out of the cement while these, these two are having an intimate act. Obviously a depraved film, but I think it's, it's more like a mythology to me. It's more symbolism, obviously, than just clearly depraved behavior. It's, it's about, it's about regression. It's about what happens when all of those structures that I've been talking about, like that I talk about all the time, all your sources of morality, of good and bad, of, of things that that make the world seem stable and normal to you, when those things are taken away from you at such a, a fast pace, you kind of go into this panic, or you implode. And the after the parents die, the rest of the film is a visual of what regression looks like, what it looks like to see imploding, what it looks like to see somebody clearly say, I don't care anymore. Anything that would have kept me in place is now gone. Anything that would keep me as a moral person is gone. So especially when it comes to trauma, there are so many different ways that people deal with trauma. Some of them being depraved behavior. Some of them are, depending on the trauma, completely, uh, relinquishing all of their original ethics. You know, you have people who are sociopaths, right? People who are made into monsters, right? Because those kinds of things happen to them, because of trauma, because they see the very fabric of what they think is right and wrong is tested and destroyed, right in front of them. So what does that make a person? How does, how is a murderer made? How is somebody like Hannibal made? What, what do you do whenever your, your beliefs are, are tested, and everything, you know, is actually wrong? The Cement Garden asks those questions.

Depraved films, films that show depravity, are allowing us to feel, feel the very tender nerve of the things that we call morality, illusion, truth. It's not to say those things are subjective. I think that these films make you ask the questions, and, uh, they reaffirm, I think, moral or ethical behavior, weirdly enough. They provide an explanation for the course of events, why something happens, what, what makes a murderer, what causes somebody to, to do something depraved, right? They're not excuses, but they are explanations.

Now, I saved the best for last, which is Salo, or 120 Days of Sodom. This is an Italian, and the only version of the Marquis de Sade's 120 Days of Sodom. If you don't know who the Marquis de Sade is, he's truly, uh, he wrote some incredibly depraved things. I can't really remember if there's anything that was actually convicted of the Marquis in his lifetime, if he actually ever did anything, but, um, I'm pretty sure that's a no. But he wrote some pretty, in some of the most disgusting, depraved things, disturbing an art form of disturbing things, an entire breath, body of work of disturbing things. The, uh, Marquis de Sade is from whom the sadist tradition comes from. Sadism comes from, which even modern-day sadists, look like Polly Pockets in comparison to some of the writings of the Marquis de Sade.

So Salo is an incredibly disgusting, disturbing, horrific, depraved film, but it's also an incredibly beautiful film. It is filmed in a gorgeous mansion in Italy. It is a villa, actually, a villa, which has some of the most breathtaking sets, makeup, dress, wallpaper, scenes, scenic scenes, some of the most beautiful people I've ever seen, um, beautiful physical bodies. The, the movie Salo, uh, it is a group of fascist libertines in Italy, which round up a group of young teenagers, young people, men and women, and abuse them, and physically abuse them, and murder them, physical, mental, all of it, you know, over the course of 120 days. This is done truly in the most perverse manner imaginable. I'm not going to go into what happens in the film, because that's pretty much it. It's torture, it's abuse, all of it in the most foul, foul stresses of, of either end of any of those things you can imagine. But what I do want to talk about, which I, which I will discuss, is the only part of the film, and that is the end of the film. It is the, it is the, the pinnacle of what I think this film says.

So you have one of the libertines sitting in, funny enough, you know, like this film is so well, well, uh, the set designs and the prop design, it's like crazy. I'm pretty sure he's sitting in like a Mac chair. He's looking out with a very gorgeous telescope through a window out into a courtyard where all kinds of violence and abuse is happening, and torture is happening. And, uh, there is no music. There's no music. There's no talking. It's like a completely silent part of the film, ending to the film. But this man looks upon torture, violence, abuse that he causes, that he is a part of this organized chaos and pain and suffering. But he looks at it from afar. He looks at it from a beautiful bedroom, master bedroom, with fresco baby blue frescos on the wall, and an abstract silk bedding, and perfectly plush carpet, sitting in a Macintosh chair. If that's not the most symbolic thing ever, when it comes to, um, certain stretches of beauty, illusion, lack of empathy, the separateness that one can feel from themselves, from the pain, the from the crimes that they commit, from the vastness of their depravity, says it all in that scene. A man sitting watching violence from afar. You can't hear it, that's the thing. You know, you're, you're seeing these, these, uh, men, men and women crying and screaming, you know, and there's all, all these really awful, gross scenes of torture are happening, and you don't hear them scream. You just see it from afar, from a beautiful room, from a beautiful villa, among luxury and opulence. I just think that says it all. And, and I think it's important, even for someone like me, for, for the channel that I have, to make this kind of comment, right? Like beauty, in, in its elitist domain, at its, at the peak of it, is that, is being able to be separate, is that detached perspective, right? Being able to look from your, from your shiny little throne, the things which plague us, but to look at, to look at it from a, from a seat of privilege, or a place of illusion, or delusion. Very difficult to read the Marquis de Sade. But from what I have read about the Marquis de Sade's work, I don't know if there is a particular fixation on the aesthetics of the space. I'm pretty sure that there is a hell of a lot of talking, uh, as far as I'm concerned in the film, there is. But like in the books, it's all talk while the acts are being committed. How they're thinking about it, how they're talking about it, how detailed they get into it. Don't you miss a single, single detail about any of these traumas or abuses or whatever? It's all being just dissolved by words, to the point where it, it makes you feel detached from the violence and from the horrific things that you're reading, because there's so much chat about it, right? And in the movie, it's this is done through this, uh, this verbal, this discussion and dissection of literally everything that's happening, um, but it's also shown through beauty in the film, which I really love. I, I really commend this film for that reason, that all of these horrible things are happening within, within this arena, this beautiful arena. Very symbolic, very cool. Highly recommend it if you can stomach it. It's not a fun film to watch. I, I am like, kind of used to horrific, gross, disturbing things. But there is, there is a particular part in Salo that I will never watch again. I just don't want to. I would watch it again, just not one certain part. But yeah, if you can stomach it, I would suggest watching it. But, uh, yeah.

Ah, those are all those depraved films that I've seen that I really enjoy. That I love. Some of my favorite films ever are on this list. Some of my favorite characters are on this list, fictional characters. I love depraved films because I like to ask questions. I like to think about things. I don't look at them as an exe, as an example to follow, which is what the Hays Code in film was all about, right? You don't want people to watch a film and say, "Oh, oh, like that's how I should behave. That's encouraging me to be this way." I don't, I'm, I, and I don't think you are an idiot. So watch the film and ask yourself what that film means, what that kind of behavior has to say about your place on this planet, in the cosmos, and all that. It asks a more metaphysical question, even though it's rooted in very physical behavior. Yeah.

Let me know if you guys have ever watched any of these films. If you like any of them, let me know what your depraved films are. Ooh, I'll be on that. So quick, so many questions to be asked. Please let me know if you've watched these films. Give me your recommendations. Leave a comment, like, subscribe, share this video. Let people know. Hope you watch these films if you haven't seen them. Read the books if there's a book associated, uh, with it. And have a lovely weekend. Enjoy your weekend. Okay, bye.

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