Marcello (Jean Luis Trintignant) is a young man in Fascist Italy trying his best to fit the square peg that is his psyche into the round hole that is totalitarian society. “I don‘t understand you . Everybody wants to be different, and you want to be the same as everybody”, his friend and party apparatchik Italo (Jose Quaglio) says to him. For reasons that become more evident as the film progresses, Marcello is pursuing what he views as a straight (in more ways than one) , bourgeois life: marrying a vibrant, yet vacuous woman (Stefania Sandrelli), and obtaining a respectable civil servant position. In Marcello’s case, the position is one where he can ingratiate himself into the company of an ideological enemy of the state (Enzo Tarascio), who lives in self-imposed exile in Paris, and reporting his activities back to the government. On his way to begin his mission, which coincides with his Parisian honeymoon, he is told that its parameters have changed. Instead of merely spying on his former professor, he must now assassinate him.

Entire books could be devoted to deconstructing and interpreting this sort of movie. Directed when Bertolucci was only 29, The Conformist still stands as one of his greatest cinematic achievements; one that will outlive his more famous (The Last Emperor) and more infamous (Last Tango in Paris) films. Nearly flawless in its presentation, the story unfolds in medias res, with its flashbacks (and flashbacks within flashbacks), and the sexual tension of blatant and latent homoeroticism, combining to create an experience that is frequently disorienting. There is a lot going on here including themes of guilt, repression, and obedience.

Bertolucci’s actors are no less impressive than the story: Trintignant displays convincingly chilling indifference to anything that deviates from his character’s pursuit, while his female co-stars, especially Dominique Sanda, are at once vibrant, erotic and nuanced.

If these proceeding aspects make The Conformist an amazing film, then Vittorio Storaro’s cinematography elevates it to masterpiece status. Storaro creates a sumptuous and intoxicating mis en scene. From the cool, fascist chic of the ministry interiors, to the windswept views of Paris, to the claustrophic and impressionistic scene of the newlyweds on a train, The Conformist is a hyper-stylized visual feast of light, shadow and color.

Presentation
The only previous home video release of The Conformist was a very poorly dubbed VHS edition with a full screen transfer that butchered every gorgeous frame of this film. Unless you have the good fortune to see it projected onto the big screen, this remastered release from Paramount is probably the best you will ever see. Presented in 1.78 (1:69) anamorphic, the image is a bit soft but the colors are vibrant and rich. For a film of its age, there are surprisingly few signs of wear or degradation evident.

There are quite a few audio options: Italian, English, Spanish and Portuguese. Since all of these languages - except Italian - are also available as subtitles, do yourself a favor and watch it in Italian with the subtitles of your choice. The dubbing is decent, but stilted as most dubs are. Best to go right to the native tongue, especially when the acting is so superlative. All of the audio options are in Dolby Digital 2.0 Mono.

Extras
As the title promises, this is an extended edition. A scene that was missing from previous screenings and home video releases, Marcello’s wedding, has been restored. Not merely added as a deleted scene, this has been re-inserted into the film. It’s only about four or five minutes long, but it has a tremendous impact on the narrative. Without wanting to give too much away, this scene adds a strange, almost Fellinniesque element to the film and frankly, it’s difficult to imagine why Bertolucci agreed to cut it in the first place.

There are three featurettes: The Rise of The Conformist: The Story, The Cast, The Conformist: Breaking New Ground and Shadow and Light: Filming The Conformist. All of these futurities are insightful and illuminating, especially whenever Vittorio Storaro has an opportunity to speak. While Bertolucci likes to talk about himself and his career trajectory, Storaro spends much more time discussing the craft of filmmaking and his goals in making the film.

While these featurettes are good, it would have been even better if the studio could have rounded up some of the actors and recorded their recollections of working with this unique and unorthodox project. And would it have killed them to put a trailer or two on the disc? Since you already get so much for less than twenty bucks, I guess beggars can’t be choosers.

Conclusion
Long unavailable, The Conformist has been given the royal treatment on DVD. While the greedy bastard in me wishes there were a few more extras, at the end of the day, I can’t complain. The fact that this film has been released on disc at all is a miracle. This is truly a landmark film and it has been respectfully restored and lovingly presented. This is a film worth owning and watching again and again, as repeat viewings yield new and pleasant surprises.