Luchino Visconti was one of the greatest filmmakers in history. His bold narrative, his constant questionings and philosophical reflections easily surpass the work of most directors. "Death in Venice", based in Thomas Mann's novel, is arguably one of his best films. Many could disagree, but one has to wonder, how many film directors are able to summarize the entire Western philosophical and historical approach to beauty in one single, elegant, stroke of inspiration? Only one: Luchino Visconti.
What happens when a man is obsessed with beauty? As unpredictable as it may seem, what happens is that beauty is redefined in ways the man could not have anticipated. In a society enslaved to the heterosexual normative, a man should only find beauty in women. And yet, in this passionate story beauty lies in the body of a young boy.
However, one should first define what kind of beauty this Phoebus reveals. Could one find some sort of connection to Plato's thoughts in "The Banquet"? Certainly not. Here a beautiful spirit does not equal a beautiful subject, far from it, the mind and the intellect are worthless when the body is the only substance we can dare to grab; the Platonic Ideal world has no meddling with this world, the only world we know. In Visconti's film beauty answers, without a doubt, to the Apollonian concept of beauty as Nietzsche would understand it: Clean lines, symmetry and harmonic design that serve but one purpose: to conceal the true horror of existence, to veil and cover the real (it's only symptomatic then that the official discourse, which belongs to the symbolic order and the reality of the luxurious Venetian hotel brings the irreconcilable real to light, id est, the subversive discourse of the people who tell Achenbach the truth about the plague and the high count of bodies, and advise him to leave before it's too late). Kant would also elaborate beauty as the intrinsic relationship between life and death, and in this correlation beauty would be that which reminds people of death, which makes people accept the possibility of death; beauty could only be found in humanity's own mortality, as so many artistic masterworks convey so extraordinarily.
One could venture to affirm that Mr. Achenbach can discern young Tadzio's beauty in two different ways. First, he is the embodiment of Classic Greek Male Beauty because his body responds to Apollonian guidelines. Second, he reminds Achenbach of his own age, therefore his own mortality. Nietzsche's and Kant's understanding of beauty can come to terms in this riveting character.
According to Lacan's theories, Tadzio also places himself as a phantasmatic recipient for Achenbach's desire. In many ways, the young boy resides only in the imaginary order, he's first and foremost an image, an image full of erotic power and seductive force, but only an image at last. It's through sheer power of desire, that Achenbach seemingly vanquishes an entire life of repressed homosexual urges. Nonetheless, this is not a love story. There is neither a single conversation between Achenbach and Tadzio nor the briefest or faintest contact between them. There is only fantasy. Fantasy driven by desire. Fantasy that encapsulates and idolizes the nubile male body more than anything else.
Achenbach soon finds himself immersed in a tortuous experience. He can never reach the boy, he can only glance at him from a distance. He can never talk to him, only listen to his name when it's pronounced by his mother. He can never touch him, only envy the other boys who manhandle him during boyish roughhousing. He can never know him, only imagine him. And as Slavoj Zizek would explain, fantasy becomes more powerful than reality, fantasy becomes the fundamental support of reality. Because here Achenbach's desire is not only supported by the phantasmatic Tadzio, it depends and relies entirely on this phantom.
Perhaps Tadzio is transformed in the Lacanian phallus. The adolescent is the phallus Achenbach has long lost. Because it's made clear in the beginning of the book as well as in the first scenes of the movie, that Achenbach is a man deprived of joy, of happiness, of hope. The phallic jouissance has eluded him for so long that one as a reader or viewer starts to doubt if he could ever regain the phallus. But can the phallus be recuperated in homosexual dynamics? Lacan does not concentrate his theory in homosexuality. Sometimes it would appear as if the Lacanian concept of homosexuality is an uncomfortable byproduct of people's inability to reclaim a symbolic masculine or feminine position. Nonetheless, "Death in Venice" greatest accomplishment is to surmount these theory limitations as it ascertains a new way to understand beauty, a way to understand beauty beyond the materialistic limitations of the male and the female body.
Michele Foucault wrote in "Histoire de la Sexualite" about "bodies and pleasures" as well as poli-sexuality in Ancient Greece. Wouldn't life be healthier and better if one could concern only about bodies and pleasures, without worrying about the exact labeling imposed by social constraints, without worrying about finding the right prefix to confine one's sexual desire to a hetero-, bi-, homo-, or trans- sexuality? That question may go unanswered, but one thing is evident in Visconti's film: Art and beauty share one immortal truth: the ability to move men and women hearts in unforeseen ways; the ability to destabilize society's strict and rigid laws, the ability to find its way regardless of prohibitions or dire outcomes. "Death in Venice" as the title announces, it's not a story about love, it's rather a story about death and loss, about the possibility of beauty and the failure of desire.
