A predominantly female audience, apparently welded to their divans, drowse their way through a piano recital, but it’s Count Egano (Massimo Girotti), seated center-frame and the first to exit, who draws our attention. He’s followed by Teresa (Jennifer O’Neill), who interrupts her hostess to bid an early farewell, but not before shooting her lover’s wife Giuliana Hermil (Laura Antonelli) a dirty look. (Teresa refuses to share a man with another woman, even if she is his wife.) Next out, Tullio Hermil (Giancarlo Giannini), exemplar of male narcissism that he is, who ditches his wife to rush to his mistress’ side. This sets in motion what was to be the last Technicolor gasp of epic storyteller Luchino Visconti (The Leopard, Death in Venice), an emperor of style for whom opulence came second nature. (Note the miles of red flocked wallpaper with corresponding sheets and pillow cases.) It isn’t until a journey to the past — in the form of a trip to a summer home — that the Hermils have time to rethink their marriage. (It also marks a momentary moratorium on red.) When it came to the aristocracy, Visconti used his viewfinder as one would a wrecking ball attached to a jeweler’s eyepiece. (A great way to pass a rainy day is watching the director’s systematic defilement of Nazi Baroness Ingrid Thulin in The Damned.) After learning that she’s carrying another man’s child, one reason alone convinced Tullio to take Giuliana back: her last pregnancy ended in miscarriage. Tullio needs a constant reminder of his wife’s infidelity like he does an extra dollar; as such, he’s banking on a similar outcome. If not, there are other ways to deal with an unwanted child. Film Movement’s new-to-blu-ray restoration is nothing short of stunning. And don’t miss Ivo Blom’s video essay exaltation of Visconti’s use of flowers as ”depth cues.” (1976) — Scott Marks