CLEOPATRA: 50th Anniversary Edition Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox 1963) Fox Home Video
For decades
the infamy of Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s Cleopatra
(1963) has effectively obscured the virtues of its storytelling. By design
it was a celebration of the aspirations of its production designer, ‘master
builder’ John DeCuir (whose Roman forum set was actually one and a half times
grander in scope and scale because DeCuir felt that the real forum was just not
as impressive). But Cleopatra also
spoke to Mankiewicz’s inspiration to make a damn fine film. The director toiled
night and day, exhausting his own resources as well as those of 2oth
Century-Fox; the latter nearly bankrupted by the time the film reached theaters
where it could never be expected to recoup its initial outlay of $40 million. Even
before cameras began rolling in Rome Cleopatra
had already become an epic three times more expensive than William Wyler’s Ben-Hur (1959). Rounded up for today’s
inflation, Cleopatra cost roughly
$440 million of which less than half it earned back for Fox.
Even if the
final cut had not veered wildly off course, Cleopatra
quickly acquired a reputation for the perversity of its expenditures; cast and
crew remaining on salary even when they were not working; chauffeur-driven cars
supplied to supporting cast; a mineral water bill that could bankroll
a third world revolution and daily balance sheets left quietly unchecked;
an utter lack of budgetary supervision and costly delays due to weather,
Elizabeth Taylor’s failing health, but also in order to satisfy crabby cameraman Leon
Shamroy…etc., etc. Still, it might have
all worked out in the film’s favor had Mankiewicz been allowed to release two
separate movies following the model of playwright George Bernard Shaw; the
first, ‘Caesar and Cleopatra’, the
second, ‘Anthony and Cleopatra’. At
just a little under eight hours there was enough usable footage to achieve the
director’s goal. But Spyros P. Skouras, then head of Fox, was leery of this
high concept for several reasons, not the least of which was the studio’s
desperate need for a hit movie in theaters to rebuild their ailing coffers.
The torrid extramarital
affair between costars Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor had been tabloid
fodder for months and Skouras was eager to capitalize on this before the public
fascination cooled. However, two books chronicling the turbulent
behind-the-scenes chaos, The Cleopatra Papers and My
Life with Cleopatra, released just prior to the world premiere did much
to dampen the movie’s reputation. It quickly degenerated into an easy target
for pop camp and rank parody. But even these assaults paled in comparison to Taylor’s
own outspoken condemnation, openly admitting to the press that “the final humiliation was having to go and
see it.” Taylor, who had initially refused
to do the movie, had profited handsomely by the arrangement; reaping overdraft
in the hundreds of thousands in addition to her already agreed upon million
dollar salary (the highest ever then paid to a star for a single picture).
Yet, the movie
had been an arduous affair for all concerned. Production Chief Johnny Johnston
– a main staple in Mankiewicz’s employ died from a heart attack just as
production at Rome’s Cinecitta Studios was getting underway. During the movie’s
false start at Pinewood Studios in England, Elizabeth Taylor had almost
succumbed to a virulent bout of pneumonia and had to have an emergency
tracheotomy to save her life. In transitioning from England to Italy the
production gave up its Edie Plan tax breaks, jettisoned most of its cast and
crew, and, had to begin anew constructing sets on the back lot in Italy. Under
such duress, Mankiewicz cobbled together his truncated masterpiece. Yet even at 320
min. Cleopatra occasionally seems
bloated and meandering. Variety’s snap assessment of the film as “a series of coming attractions for something
that will never come” did little to quell the initial giddy anxiety inside Fox’s
corporate boardroom; a nervous friction easily rivaled by the film’s catastrophic
box office.
Mankiewicz had
committed body and soul to the point of physical collapse and the strain had
taken everything out of him. Now, it all seemed hardly worth the effort. “Perhaps you know something I don’t,”
Mankiewicz quipped to Burt Parks, MC at the New York World Premiere after being
afforded a glowing accolade about the general importance and overall stature of
his movie. It was a prophetic epitaph. For although the careers of costars Rex
Harrison, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton would emerge from this financial
debacle virtually unscathed, the reputations of producer Walter Wanger and
Mankiewicz would never recover: neither worked in movies again. The irony, of course is that in re-viewing
Cleopatra today - some fifty years
removed from all the gossip and hype - there is a great deal to admire and
absorb; much more than either the critics or audiences of its day gave the film
or Mankiewicz credit. Despite the studio’s additional tampering, whittling down
the run time even further to accommodate multiple showings, Cleopatra is perhaps ‘the most influential film of the sixties’;
an assessment first offered by eminent commercial artist Andy Warhol.
To his dying
day Mankiewicz pleaded with Fox – unsuccessfully - to reassemble the story into
two separate films. Mankiewicz did not live to see the day (he died on February
5, 1993). But in 1995 Fox launched a worldwide search for Cleopatra’s missing footage – nearly three hours in all, long since
excised and now – regrettably – presumed to have been discarded by the studio.
What a thrill it would have been to have the opportunity to re-judge Cleopatra on those terms as the movie
masterpiece(s) Mankiewicz had envisioned; a super colossus instead of the lavish
claptrap it ultimately is.
Cleopatra had been a great 1917 silent movie for Fox vamp Theda
Bara and a lavish 1934 Cecil B. DeMille epic starring the sultry Claudette
Colbert. Yet the decision to remake Cleopatra
on such a titanic scale had followed a very insidious run of bad luck at Fox.
The studio needed a hit; ‘mega’, if possible, but sizable success either way if
Fox was to continue making movies at all. With television uniformly cutting
theater attendance by nearly forty percent and the added stress of divestiture from
its once prominent theater chain, Skouras compounded the exodus of talent and
real estate by liquidating Fox’s back lot of free standing sets to a high-rise
developer – considered by many to be second only to MGM’s. But this financial
reprieve was temporary at best.
In its initial
phase, Cleopatra seemed destined to be
made as a modestly budgeted (under two million) sword and sandal quickie
starring Fox contract player, Joan Collins. Two overriding factors prevented
the project from proceeding as planned; one - Walter Wanger’s driving ambition
and two; a gross naivetĂ© on the part of Skouras in his belief in Wanger’s claim
that their hefty investment would yield equally impressive box office returns. As Cleopatra’s
budget swelled to $5 million Wanger pursued Elizabeth Taylor for its star, a
proposition Taylor thought ludicrous until Wanger agreed to her casual
deterrent of a million dollar salary. Taylor was shocked; even more so when her
additional demands to shoot the picture abroad, in Todd A-O and with her own
choice of director were willingly approved. Regrettably, England’s shoot was
anything but smooth. Perpetual rainfall took its toll on the paper mache sets
and Taylor’s health. Unable to distill clarity from the chaos, director Rouben
Mamoulian was fired, the film’s cast – except for Taylor – dismissed, and
Joseph L. Mankiewicz brought in. Shifting locales from London to Rome generated
heat of a different kind when Taylor began carrying on with co-star Richard
Burton.
While
Mankiewicz directed by day and wrote his script by night Cleopatra slowly began to spiral out of control. Falling behind
schedule and going way over budget, Mankiewicz endured constant threats from
the studio to either cancel the movie or fire him. These added strain to the
already unwieldy production. The extras grumbled even more – about their skimpy
costumes and the hot sun. At one point Skouras asked Mankiewicz for a final
budget; the monumental figure quoted by the director only a ballpark of where
the movies was headed. Unable to go to the Fox shareholders with this princely
sum, Skouras instead indulged in a bit of his own creative book-keeping that
eventually would get him broomed out of the executive suite.
Cleopatra is basically the story of three formidable titans
doomed to the notorious quagmire of history. We first meet Julius Caesar (Rex
Harrison) in his final military campaign against the forces of Pompey. Having secured
another victory for Rome Caesar journeys to the port city of Alexandria Egypt
for an audience with the joint rulers of the land: Pharaoh Ptolemy XIII (Richard
O’Sullivan) and his sister Cleopatra (Elizabeth Taylor). Caesar quickly
discovers that Ptolemy has already launched a palace coup forcing Cleopatra
into exile. Ptolemy makes Caesar a gift of Pompey’s severed head; a gruesome
reward that does not gain Caesar’s favor.
Later,
Cleopatra reenters the palace, disguised in a rug slung over the shoulder of
her trusted protector, Apollodorus (Cesare Danova). She warns Caesar that her
brother’s forces have surrounded the palace and intend to murder him. In
response, Caesar orders his Centurions to burn the Egyptian fleet. The fire
spreads to the city, destroying the library where many sacred documents,
including the original remnants of the Bible are stored. Cleopatra is outraged, but her distemper is
quelled by a passionate embrace. Ptolemy’s forces attack. Yet Caesar’s
brilliant military strategies keeps them at bay. Ptolemy and his lord
chamberlain, Theodotos (Herbert Berghof) are brought to justice and sentenced
to death for their assassination attempt on Cleopatra who is shortly thereafter
crowned the undisputed Queen of Egypt.
Cleopatra’s
happiness is tied up with Caesar; a bond made more precarious for the Romans
when their illegitimate son, Caesarion (Loris Loddi) is born. Caesar’s pride
and acceptance of the child as his heir apparent becomes a scandal for Rome
heatedly debated in the Senate. Two years pass. Caesar is made dictator of Rome
– a ceremonial post that falls short of his expectations to be king; an
anathema to his people. Nevertheless, Caesar sends for Cleopatra who arrives
resplendent in a lavish processional that instantly garners the adulation of
the Roman people. Despite symbols of foreboding from both his wife Calpurnia
(Gwen Watford) and Cleopatra, Caesar enters the Senate where he is brutally
murdered.
Caesar’s
nephew Octavian Caesar Augustus (Roddy McDowell) is appointed heir apparent, tendering
Cleopatra’s position in Rome tentative at best and highly volatile at its
worst. Marc Antony (Richard Burton) spirits the queen and her young son away on
a barge, promising to avenge Caesar. Two years later Antony’s mission is
accomplished. He has caught and put to death all the senators responsible for
Caesar’s murder and established a second triumvirate with Octavian. The empire
is divided. Antony takes control of the eastern provinces and, like Caesar
before him, makes his pilgrimage to Egypt where he too finds passion in the
queen’s arms. Cleopatra is consumed by her love for Antony and equally devoured
by a venomous rage when she learns he has returned to his wife Octavia (Jean
Marsh). Hence, when Antony returns to Egypt many months later, on a military
campaign in Parthia, Cleopatra coolly denies him her audience; eventually agreeing
to a détente in Tarsus aboard her royal barge.
There Antony
becomes a piteous and slovenly drunk. Cleopatra exploits the moment to make a
fool of him in public. Bursting into her bedchamber for a night of violent
love-making, news of Antony’s seduction reaches Octavian who uses the affair to
smear Antony’s good name back in Rome. Antony is forced to grovel at the queen’s
behest; an acquiescence that includes a divorce from his wife, Octavia. Branded
‘the Egyptian whore’ by Octavian, who
uses the circumstances of Antony’s will – that he should be buried in Egypt/not
Rome – for his own campaign of war against Egypt, Rome’s forces begin their preparations
to march on Alexandria; a decision stirred into near religious fervor when Octavian
publicly murders the ever-loyal Egyptian Ambassador, Sosigenes (Hume Cronyn) on
the Senate steps.
The naval
Battle at Actium decimates Antony's legions. His devoted second in command,
Ruffio (Martin Landau) commits suicide. Cleopatra stirs Antony to challenge
Octavian’s forces on Egyptian soil – a battle already lost in Antony’s mind and
affirmed when the Romans refuse to fight Antony, but instead regard him as a pathetic
figure of fun. Disgraced Antony returns to the palace where Apollodorus -
believing him unworthy of the queen - convinces Antony that Cleopatra has died,
whereupon Antony falls on his own sword. Octavian conquers the city without
bloodshed. But his plans to return to Rome in triumph with Cleopatra as his
slave are thwarted when she arranges to be bitten by a poisonous asp.
Infuriated, Octavian asks Cleopatra’s devoted servant, Charmian (Isabelle
Cooley), who has also been bitten by the asp and lays dying at her queen’s feet,
if the deed was done ‘well’ to which
Charmian replies, “Extremely well, as
befitting of the last of so many noble rulers.”
Cleopatra is an undeniably resplendent epic – perhaps the last
of its kind. Yet, it is not like other epics of its vintage, rather something
of an impressively overwrought and overproduced soap opera; its central appeal
still the rumored backstage badinage between Elizabeth Taylor and Richard
Burton. The acting throughout is very fine; the production values finer still,
and Mankiewicz’s direction, although curiously uncustomary from his usual,
nevertheless is more than serviceable with the material at hand. Yet, Cleopatra never seems to attain the
sort of immortality afforded epics like The
Ten Commandments (1956) or Ben-Hur
(1959). Perhaps the absence of a religious subtext is to blame. The 1934
version of Cleopatra had done more
than merely hint at Paganism. But this 1963 remake never concerns itself with
anything more, or perhaps better, than this romantic ménage a trois.
Rex Harrison’s
formidable display in the first half of the movie is weakened by his absence
immediately following the intermission. Richard Burton is an impressive actor
to be sure, and arguably a successor to Harrison. But his Marc Antony is a
lumbering, heart sore and very weak-kneed sister to Harrison’s towering
figurehead. Also, it remains one of the movie’s many curiosities that the
smoldering heat so obviously generated by the Burton/Taylor affair behind the
scenes never escalates to anything greater than embers on the expansive Todd
A-O screen; the couple’s slinky embraces and tender pas deux bested by their
backstage reputations as red-hot lovers. Without question, the real star of Cleopatra is John DeCuir’s production
design; utterly lavish, regal and meticulously researched down to the last
detail. Regrettably, here too the spectacle is distilled into a sort of absurd
fashion parade with the antiquity spilling over into the then contemporary
high-trend fashion marketplace; endlessly aped and exploited by clothing
designers and makeup companies.
To say that
Mankiewicz’s involvement on Cleopatra
instantly elevated the film’s potential from B-grade quickie to A-list colossus
is a bit much, but there’s no denying that the buzz in Hollywood then was that Cleopatra would be one of the greatest
movie epics of all time. Tragically, this never happened. What began as a ten
week scheduled shoot in Rome quickly escalated into a ten month ordeal buffered
by bad timing and ill-planning. At one point, it was estimated that the delays were
adding $70,000 of debt to the movie’s bottom line per day, with Elizabeth
Taylor’s overtime alone costing the studio $50,000 a week. Hence, the obvious
virtues of the production were being submarined by its grotesque budgetary
mismanagement; a sentiment echoed elsewhere in the corporate boardroom and
slowly trickling out to the press. The oppressiveness of this exercise entirely
rests on Mankiewicz’s shoulders and, unfortunately, is occasionally apparent in
the finished film.
At times
Taylor seems bored or at the very least visibly displeased with herself, while
Burton infrequently appears to have found his lines merely amusing. This leaves
Rex Harrison as the standout performer – delivering a peerless and very stately
Caesar indeed. But he’s only a third of the show and featured in less than half.
Without him, the narrative waffles – badly at times – in a sort of ‘what’s to become of me?’ limbo,
infrequently resurrected by Mankiewicz’s attempts to seize the reigns and steer
his production back on course. Undeniably, the last act is hampered by a final
insult – the cutting off of purse strings from Fox’s front office after Darryl
F. Zanuck’s triumphant takeover and ousting of Spiros Skouras; the latter a
middling executive at best who blindly believed he could ride out the maelstrom.
But then, there are the ramifications of Zanuck’s own tampering to ponder.
In its late
stages, Zanuck began to tinker with Cleopatra’s
continuity without Mankiewicz’s approval or input. Zanuck did eventually recall
the director into the editor’s chair, but by then even Mankiewicz had had quite
enough of the doomed Egyptian queen. At 320 min. the movie’s theatrical cut is
elephantine without ever achieving its trajectory as a truly epic masterpiece.
In the final analysis, Cleopatra
remains ‘the monumental mouse’ the
New York Times so declared in 1963. It is a fascinating catastrophe; a
magnificent flop and a marvelous spectacle all at once; a collaborative misfire
the likes of which Hollywood had never seen before and is unlikely to ever
witness again.
Does this mean
Cleopatra is a clunker? Arguably,
no. The artistic merits of the movie are as gargantuan as its mistakes. This
keeps the movie in a sort of precarious ‘checks and balances’; impossible to
dismiss outright. Real failure is easy to spot and label. But Cleopatra isn’t the genuine article. It
rises to the occasion as an enthralling entertainment periodically, but just
enough to salvage the enterprise from being a total waste of time. The threat
of absolute implosion never fully materializes and this keeps our fascination
perennially above the water line. We wait for that moment when our patience is
pushed over the edge, to completely bash the movie as nothing better than
over-produced tripe, yet are pleasantly surprised when this seemingly
inevitable moment is denied us. Is the manipulation deliberate? Hardly - more
likely just some unhappy, or very lucky chance; the staving off of our
collective ennui making the movie more impressive as a topic of discussion all
these many years later. Cleopatra
therefore holds a very dubious distinction. It isn’t a bad movie. Haplessly, it
isn’t a great one either.
Fox has
outdone itself on this hi-def Blu-ray. First up, Cleopatra is offered in a bare-bones two-pack or an exquisitely produced
digi-book. My opinion is that you invest in the digi-book; handsomely, yet
succinctly produced with good linear notes and a spectacular array of vintage
photographs reproduced in full color. Wow! The disc content for both releases is
virtually identical. For starters, we get the movie looking absolutely
fabulous; the spectacle all the more vibrant and pronounced for having been
re-scanned in full 1080p. Colors pop off the screen. Fine detail is superbly
realized. Contrast is exceptional. Age related artifacts are not an issue and
film grain looks very natural indeed. You will be amazed – decidedly so – and perhaps
even more by the gorgeous DTS 5.1 audio that reveals subtle nuances in Alex North’s score. Dialogue
sounds better than ever. Honestly, this is really good stuff.
Extras are
also very impressive. For starters, we get ‘Cleopatra: The Film That Changed
Hollywood’ – a 2 hr. plus chronicle of the movie’s debacle and
resurrection as a pop-u-tainment with an abundance of archival footage and
interviews. Truly, it’s one of the best documentaries I have ever seen on the
making of a movie. I dare say I think I like it better than the movie itself!
We also get a vintage featurette ‘The Fourth Star of Cleopatra’, and,
a lengthy audio commentary from Martin Landau and others. These were all extras
jam-packed onto Fox’s Five Star DVD from
2000. But this Blu-ray has also given us several newly produced gems; Cleopatra Through the Ages gives us a
look and insight into the real queen and the ‘reel’ pretenders who have long
since deposed her memory. There’s also, Cleopatra’s
Missing Footage – a featurette that explains how short-sightedness on Fox’s
part back in the 1970s led to virtually all of Mankiewicz’s extemporaneous archival
material being junked. There’s also ‘The
Cleopatra Papers’ a private correspondence that is fascinating. Fox pads
out the extras with vintage ‘Movietone’ news reels and snippets taken at the
Hollywood premiere. Yep folks, if you’re a fan of Cleopatra then Fox’s new Blu-ray is a must own experience; very
classily put together. For Fox – it’s nice to see, for a change!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
3
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
5
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