BMCR 2009.07.63: Pomeroy on Berti, Hellas on Screen: Cinematic Receptions of Ancient History, Literature and Myth. Heidelberger althistorische Beitraege und epigraphische Studien; Bd. 45

Irene Berti, Marta Garcia Morcillo (ed.), Hellas on Screen: Cinematic
Receptions of Ancient History, Literature and Myth. Heidelberger
althistorische Beitraege und epigraphische Studien; Bd. 45.  Stuttgart:
Franz Steiner Verlag, 2008.  Pp. 266; 16 p. of plates.  ISBN
97835150092234.  EUR 48.00 (pb).

Reviewed by Arthur J. Pomeroy, Victoria University of Wellington
([email protected])
Word count:  2409 words
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[Authors and titles are listed at the end of the review.]

Anglophone scholarship sometimes seems to pay scant attention to
research published in other languages. For reception studies of films
depicting the ancient world, the effect is doubled: Mankiewicz's
Cleopatra (1963) has almost completely obscured Cottafavi's Le legioni
di Cleopatra (1959) and Kubrick's Spartacus (1960) overshadows Vidali's
Spartaco (1913) and Freda's 1952 depiction of the great slave uprising
(Spartaco, also known in English as Sins of Rome). Only in the case of
peplum films involving Hercules do English-speaking scholars display
close attention to Italian publications on the subject, while
continuing to ignore other forms of philology from that country, as
Luigi Spina laments in his contribution to the volume under review. The
collection of articles in Hellas on screen appears intended to remedy
both forms of neglect: it is the work of thirteen scholars of
continental origin, and many of the papers analyse films that had only
limited distribution in English-speaking countries and are sometimes
only available in original language editions. All the papers, however,
are in English, thus providing accessible material for study in classes
on film and the classics that are burgeoning in North America and
elsewhere in the Anglophone world. Perhaps because the enterprise
originated in a course at the University of Heidelberg in 2005, Oliver
Stone's then recently released Alexander (2004) looms large. The
historical advisor for, as well as occasional actor in that film, Robin
Lane Fox, contributes a preface (pp. 5-8) that portrays his
participation in Stone's enterprise as his road to Damascus: he now
enthusiastically embraces 'history films' for the light they may shed
on the methods of classical authors. He may be a late convert (film
studies have been using his example of Plato's cave as a philosophical
underpinning for its investigations for decades), but his participation
shows that not all encounters between the film world and classicists
need end in tears.

Berti and Morcillo offer a brief introduction (pp. 9-20) that, in
addition to the customary summary of the papers in the collection,
raises the question of whether 'films about ancient Greece' are a
unified corpus for study. Their answer in the affirmative, however,
seems to confuse Siclier's initial rather limited definition of the
peplum genre as a recent style of European action film set in the
ancient world, designed to compete with Tarzan and other superhero
movies being produced by Hollywood with Aziza's more recent extension
of the term to all films depicting events prior to the fall of
Constantinople in 1453.[[1]] Here scholars will need to examine more
closely the use of the term 'genre' (or perhaps better,  filoni --
'trends') to label cinematic styles in contrast with more traditional
literary genres (e.g. mythological or historical) to which classicists
are accustomed. A further question is what is 'Greek' (in particular,
in relation to 'Roman') in films about ancient Greece. The answer that
Greece is epic and mythological in contrast with 'historical' Rome may
offer a rough guide and is supported by some of the papers in this
volume. But, as Gideon Nisbet has shown,[[2]] the nature of
'Greek-ness' deserves continued investigation.

Nacho Garci/a offers one solution to the question by investigating the
mise-en-sce\ne of a number of films from the last fifty years
portraying the Trojan War, the Odyssey, mythology (Jason and the
Argonauts and Clash of the Titans), Greek drama, and various
'historical' themes, from La battaglia di Maratona by Tourneur and Bava
to 300 (pp. 21-38). The sets of these films, generally built in the
great studios of London and Rome (a significant Spanish contribution is
also noted) show some common features, such as unpainted marble as an
indicator of antiquity, and a fusion of Bronze Age, Near Eastern, and
Greek styles. This is a valuable start on this topic: Garci/a notes
that a similar study is needed for costuming. An investigation of the
soundscapes of such films may also be very revealing and is an area
that is presently almost untouched.

Martin Lindner, who has done valuable work on films set in the Roman
world,[[3]] turns his attention to versions of the deeds of Hercules
and Odysseus in children's animation films (pp. 39-55). Here, the term
'film' embraces television and direct-to-dvd product, indicative of the
growing hybridity of visual material with which those studying the
ancient world in popular culture need to come to terms. Lindner
catalogues a number of examples originating from studios in various
countries, noting variation from traditional mythology and suggesting
reasons for these modifications based on production style or
rearrangement of the story to fit more familiar narratives (e.g.
fantasy adventures involving magic or simple romances). While some
changes may be attributed to the youthful target audience, in other
cases (e.g. Disney's Hercules) attempts are made to please two
different audiences  simultaneously, namely adult parents and their
children. Here, in a reception studies perspective, it would be
interesting to expand the investigation to see if there was any
difference between the adaptation of classical material and that of
other literary sources in such productions.

Comic depictions of Heracles in satyr plays and Hercules in Italian
sandaloni of the 1950s and 1960s are Luigi Spina's topic (pp. 57-64).
While only touching on aspects of a large subject, Spina suggests that
peplum films were initially essentially serious, intended for an
audience expecting a populist hero, but became more fantastic and
parodic as time went by. The gentle giant characters played by Bud
Spencer (Carlo Pedersoli) in Italian westerns may be Hercules'
descendants, as Spina suggests, but only as a parody of the mainly
American body-builders that starred in the peplums. Here there is much
work to be done, as also in tracing the depiction of Odysseus, whose
development Herbert Verreth follows by looking at portrayals of
Odysseus both in a supporting role to mythological stars, such as
Hercules, and as leading man in various versions of the Odyssey (pp.
65-73). Although this paper draws our attention to the popularity of
the hero, the question of what makes Hercules such a cinematic
attraction (yet less popular than Nero or Cleopatra) remains open.

The 1912 silent film, The Legend of Oedipus, is reconstructed by
Pantelis Michelakis from stills, posters, and a brief film extract (pp.
75-87). The author's combination of archival research and analysis that
takes into account film theory should serve as a model for future
efforts. Michelakis concentrates on a still that shows Oedipus' and the
palace maids' reaction to discovering the hanging corpse of Jocasta:
the actual depiction of the queen's death, in contrast with Sophocles'
narration of her suicide off-stage, would have been shocking for the
audience then (and did in fact draw the ire of the censors in Germany
and Austria), and it still remains disturbing today. Mounet-Sully's
performance as Oedipus, while often described as excessively
'theatrical', is shown to be intended to discomfort the audience
through a process that shows the growing confidence of film-makers in
their new art.

Half a century later, Pier Paolo Pasolini would again use ancient Greek
drama for purposes of shock and awe. Filippo Carla\ explicates
Pasolini's ideology in exemplary fashion, showing how Aeschylus'
depiction of the change of the Erinyes into the Eumenides is treated by
the Italian writer as a myth describing the necessity of reconciling
the life in accord with nature of pre-industrial societies and the
rationalism of modern capitalism (pp. 89-115). Pasolini deliberately
sets his Greek tragedies in the third world to underline the conflicts
that will arise in post-colonial settings, but he combines this with
Freudian psychology. By adding harrowing images of violence and cruelty
to produce Aristotelian fear and pity, he produces a very heady brew
indeed. Carla\'s examination of the complex interfaces between cinema
and classical drama requires careful reading, but deserves a wide
audience as a model of interdisciplinary research at its best.

Before 300, The 300 Spartans (1961) provided a cold war myth that
inspired Frank Miller to create his graphic novel. Fernando Lillo
Redonet sets the film in its historical context--the 'intellectual'
Athenians are played by English actors, the Spartans by Americans who
provide the film's actual muscle--and notes considerable borrowings
from Diodorus and Plutarch to add clear moral themes to Herodotus'
narrative (pp. 117-130). The didactic message of the film was
reinforced by the accompanying pressbook for North America, that, among
other things, suggested discussing whether 'the adoption of more
Spartan customs' might be a solution to America's domestic problems. A
comparison with Miller's 300, with its own peculiar ideological agenda,
would be instructive.

The perfect friendship of Damon and Pythias as shown by the readiness
of each to die for the other is recounted in various moralising ancient
sources (for instance, Cicero's Tusculan Disputations). Irene Berti
traces the tale through the Renaissance (where it becomes a model for
homoerotic relationships) to Schiller's ballad of 1799 and more recent
adaptations (pp. 131-145). In 1914, Universal produced a highly
successful six-reel film version of the myth. A 1962 joint
American-Italian version, starring Guy Williams (of Zorro fame) as
Damon and combining action scenes typical of action adventures, with
persecuted Pythagoreans standing in for Christians, is the story's
latest cinematic reincarnation. I am not persuaded by Berti's
suggestions that the story appealed first to a cultivated audience in
1914, then to the counter-culture of the 1960s. Nevertheless, her
observation that the portrayal of a homosocial, but definitely not
homosexual, relationship between the leading male characters now seems
dated is well made.

Oliver Stone's Alexander features in no less than three papers. Anja
Wieber offers an overview of Alexander films from Rossen's post-HUAC
version in 1956 to Stone's Alexander of 2004, where Colin Farrell's
Macedonian monarch channels the Lizard King from the director's biopic
of Jim Morrison; the discussion includes Angelopoulos's Megalexandros
(1980), although the director has publicly stated that his film is
definitely not about Alexander the Great, and the Indian national epic,
Sikandar (1941) (pp. 147-162). Ivana Petrovic highlights the
considerable influence of Plutarch's exemplary biography on Stone's
character-driven treatment of the Macedonian king (pp. 163-183). Stone,
unlike Plutarch, seeks to create coherency in Alexander's actions via a
mixture of Freudian psychology and Greek mythology imported into the
historical narrative. This cinematic necessity unfortunately also
failed to satisfy wide sections of a global audience. Finally, Angelos
Chaniotis explores the distancing provided by using Ptolemy as the
film's unreliable narrator, the necessity of strong emotional themes to
unify such a lengthy story, and the impossibility of avoiding
contemporary parallels between Macedonian and American power (pp.
185-201). For all this, the cinematic Alexander on the whole lacks
convincing qualities as a great leader. All these papers make good
points, but, just like Stone's film, fail to offer an entirely
satisfying interpretation. Perhaps time will provide the distancing
necessary for the evaluation of Stone's work or confirm that the
enterprise was simply too disparate for a coherent viewpoint to emerge.

Eleonora Cavallini carefully analyses the ancient evidence for the life
of the 4th-century Greek courtesan Phryne, and traces the reception of
Hyperides' famous courtroom stunt when he tore his client's tunic and
exposed her breasts to the judges, changing their indignation at a
foreign woman's brazen actions into pity and an acquittal (pp.
203-218). In modern times, neo-classicist painters found a congenial
subject in the model for Praxiteles' Venus, culminating in Ge/ro^me's
Phryne before the Areopagus (1861), where the courtesan's action in
hiding her face as her body is uncovered produces an effect that is
more erotic than designed to invoke sympathy. While Mario Bonnard, with
the assistance of a youthful Sergio Leone, created a romantic revenge
drama about a wronged woman in his 1953 film Frine, cortigiana
d'Oriente, the strongest modern recreations of Phryne's sexuality are
provided by Gina Lollobrigida--playing the defendant to Vittorio De
Sica's Hyperides in Blasetti's Altri Tempi (1952)--and by Laura
Antonelli in Claude Chabrol's Docteur Popaul (1976).

The collection concludes with the twilight of the Hellenic world, as
Marta Garci/a Morcillo considers Greeks in Roman cinematic settings
(pp. 219-235). While the Romans saw themselves as heirs to the cultural
glories of classical Greece, modern cinema prefers to establish a
contrast between Roman military might and Greek intellectualism (that
will in turn be replaced by Christian thought), as in the depiction of
Timagenes in Anthony Mann's Fall of the Roman Empire (1964). When
Greeks attempt to usurp the Roman skill of ruling in Francisci's
L'assedio di Siracusa (Archimede) (1960) and Costa's Il conquistatore
di Corinto (1961), an account of Mummius' victory over the Achaean
League in 146 BC, their leaders are shown as fickle or even villainous,
unable to come to terms with the new world order. As with The 300
Spartans, the Cold War subtext is obvious.

Over the last decade, the general parameters of films (and television
productions) set in the ancient world have been laid out in a growing
number of individual and collaborative studies. This collection adds to
our knowledge of the frequency of certain themes and brings some
less-known films back into the limelight. In the future, however,
treatments of such cinema should become more sophisticated, moving from
general description to complex investigations of the creation of the
wide-screen past. Here, in particular, Carla\'s and Michelakis's papers
show the way.

The volume includes 29 black and white plates, mainly film stills,
ranging from essential support to textual arguments to generic
indications of cinematic style.

Various small flaws in the text (e.g., superscripts for edition numbers
being added to the publication dates) and some oddities of English
expression occur, but are unlikely to distract the reader.

Robin Lane Fox, Preface

Irene Berti and Marta Garci/a Morcillo, 'Does Greece--and the
Cinema--need another Alexander?'

Nacho Garci/a, 'Classic Sceneries: Setting Ancient Greece in Film
Architecture'

Martin Lindner, 'Colourful Heroes: Ancient Greece and the Children's
Animation Film'

Luigi Spina, 'By Heracles! From Satyr-Play to Peplum'

Herbert Verreth, 'Odysseus' Journey Through Film'

Pantelis Michelakis, 'The Legend of Oedipus: Silent Cinema, Theatre,
Photography'

Filippo Carla\, 'Pasolini, Aristotle and Freud: Filmed Drama between
Psychoanalysis and "Neoclassicism"'

Fernando Lillo Redonet, 'Sparta and Ancient Greece in The 300 Spartans'

Irene Berti, '"A rare ensample of Friendship true": the story of Damon
and Pythias'

Anja Wieber, 'Celluloid Alexander(s): A Hero from the Past as Role
Model for the Present?'

Ivana Petrovic, 'Plutarch's and Stone's Alexander'

Angelos Chaniotis, 'Making Alexander Fit for the Twenty-first Century:
Oliver Stone's Alexander'

Eleonora Cavallini, 'Phryne: from Knidian Venus to Movie Star'

Marta Garci/a Morcillo, 'Graeca capta? Depictions of Greeks and Hellas
in "Roman films"'


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Notes:


1.   J. Siclier, 'L'a^ge du peplum', Cahiers du cine/ma 131 (1962)
26-38; C. Aziza, ed. Le pe/plum. L'antiquite/ au cine/ma (Paris, 1998).

2.   G. Nisbet, Ancient Greece in Film and Popular Culture (Exeter
2006; 2nd ed. 2008).

3.   M. Lindner, Rom und seiner Kaiser in Historienfilm (Frankfurt am
Main, 2007).