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Among the many pleasures nestled in Joseph Losey’s late triumph Roads to the South (Yves Montand saying the name “Walter Benjamin” is the purest delight) is a scene where father and son communists, Montand and Laurent Malet, play Russian roulette. Montand is a screenwriter whom Malet believes has lost his revolutionary nerve and sold out. Their mother, who linked the firebrands, has died, and they seem to have nothing left binding them. How could a young agitator respect this lapsed whore of a Marxist, selling movies and living vicariously through real activists as he grows old and dies in his cozy estate? How can one be a Marxist and still respect the cinema? Pasolini spent his too-short life investigating this question with every movie he made, never arriving at an answer beyond the mere fact of having done so, thus demonstrating its possibility. Have we need of further proof?...