Born in 1948, writer/director Claudio Sestieri has only eight movie and tv productions (1980-2005) listed on IMDb. The Salome film is a modernization of the Oscar Wilde play. Sestieri is creative but restrained, limiting the impact that prolific composer Luigi Ceccarelli (43 titles on IMDb, 1982-2005) might have added to the film, especially in The Dance.
Herod is a bantam-sized criminal supremo. Herodias is a lanky worn fashion-model type. Salome is thin, unembellished pretty, with a 20-year-old face and the budding chest of a 13-year-old. The combination set is laid out on one sound stage, and is mostly un-ostentatious, except for a swimming pool with colored lights. Notably, the major entrance to this "club" complex is spanned by an English name: The Last Emperor. (In the dialog, America is besmirched a few times as a criminal paradise.)
Though the Wilde play, and the Strauss opera therefrom, are usually obligated to be lurid, psychotic, shocking, actually there's considerable text to be traversed to delay climactic segments: (1) Salome seductively torments the maddened John the Baptist. (2) Salome seductively dances for Herod, then asks for the head of John on a silver platter. (3) Salome rapaciously addresses and kisses the mouth of the severed head. (4) Disgusted Herod suddenly orders his forces "Kill that woman!"
Director Sestieri, however, exercises restraint. John is unkempt and dirty, and shouts like a madman, so he does not convey that he is The Prophet, inspired by God. Salome's dance is NOT danced, but is a tossed salad of rolling and dragging on the ground amidst diaphanous drapes, with many camera angles and double exposures. Considerably better: Salome enters the yellow-green pool and places the head-bearing platter on a float, and up to her neck in the water she taunts the mute prize and, yes, kisses his mouth. But Herod has already fled, and on her back Salome floats calmly in the water and through a rent in the high roof watches the clouds pass over the Moon so darkness descends.
DVDs of Strauss's opera hardly ever achieve full impact. Best is Teresa Stratas, with Karl Bohm and the Vienna Philharmonic, staged by Gotz Friedrich (1975).