DEMETRIUS AND THE GLADIATORS: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox 1954) Twilight Time
1953 was a
banner year for 2oth Century-Fox; the inauguration of the studio’s patented
Cinemascope widescreen process and feature debut of The Robe ushering a new era in motion picture entertainment. It
isn’t entirely correct to suggest that The
Robe resurrected the Bible-fiction epic. That accomplishment was made two
years earlier with MGM’s mind-bogglingly lavish, Quo Vadis (1951). However, unlike Quo Vadis, The Robe had
Cinemascope’s expansive 2.35:1 aspect ratio to recommend it. Bigger doesn’t
necessary equate to better, but audiences did not seem to notice in The Robe’s case; having been primed for
more gargantuan thrills after the release of This is Cinerama (1952). Both Cinemascope and The Robe were immediate sensations and Darryl F. Zanuck, not about
to let a good thing go to waste, invested everything in a sequel; Demetrius and the Gladiators (1954). In
point of fact, this sequel was already well into production by the time The Robe hit theaters, Zanuck having
the foresight to see a new dawn creeping over the horizon; one where ‘bigger is better’ would serve as a lure to
those who had since forsaken their glittering movie palaces virtually overnight
to stay home and watch more modest diversions on television.
In many ways, Demetrius and the Gladiators is a more
accomplished movie than its predecessor; Philip Dunne and Lloyd C. Douglas’
screenplay intricately balanced; Delmer Daves’ direction more sure-footed than
Henry Koster’s on The Robe, as
exemplified by the fluidity of Milton R. Krasner’s camera setups. Douglas had,
of course, written the novel ‘The Robe’ and had also worked on the
movie’s screenplay during its infancy. But in these early days of Cinemascope
there was something of a misunderstanding as to how best utilize its vast
proportions. The purer of faith and truer still to their craft were nonetheless
dragged kicking and screaming into Cinemascope’s foray; ordered to fill its
vast mailbox-shaped screen with spectacle and a lot of sparkle to boot. The
early Bausch and Lomb lenses tended to inwardly warp any vertical objects
situated near either the right or left edges of the screen while panning too
quickly in either direction created an unusual anomaly mimicking gate
weave. Close-ups were virtually
impossible, the so-called Cinemascope ‘mumps’ – a horizontal stretching grotesquely
elongating actors’ faces, making them look pudgy in anything more intimate than
the proverbial medium two-shot. And Cinemascope’s vast horizontal expanse
needed to be filled, if not with star presence, then decidedly with action. Too
little movement and the scene, however delicately framed and filled with
bric-a-brac, tended to look flat and empty. Too much and it simply became
chaotic and distracting; the audience not knowing where to concentrate their
attention span. In retrospect, the Bible/fiction epic was the magic elixir for
Cinemascope; its thronging masses and Pagan pageantry ideally compensating for
these forgivable photographic sins.
Demetrius and the Gladiators has plenty of
the aforementioned to titillate and enthrall; George W. Davis and Lyle R.
Wheeler’s superb art direction staggering in glossy, gorgeous Eastman-color,
befitting the decadence of ancient Rome. At $1.9 million, Demetrius and the Gladiators was not nearly as costly to produce,
coming as it did on the heels of The
Robe; Fox getting even more bang for its buck by utilizing many of the
free-standing outdoor and indoor sets built for its predecessor – including the
absolutely spectacular throne room and amphitheater for key sequences, plus virtually
all the beaded diaphanous gowns and Centurion guard breastplates already
assembled for The Robe. Once again,
the robe worn by the crucified Jesus of Nazareth proved a pivotal plot point in
this reconstituted tale about a slave forced into the gladiatorial arena by
fate; freed to pursue his destiny, willed by the hand of God: powerful stuff,
to say the least, and given the A-list treatment from top to bottom. Demetrius and the Gladiators plays to
two very predominant themes in American cinema from the mid to late 1950’s; sex
and religion – very strange bedfellows, indeed. The former is mostly implied –
the stringency of Hollywood’s self-governing code of ethics willing to look
the other way only so far - mostly with regards to costuming, per say (women in
cleavage-revealing translucent gowns and shirtless muscle men in their
thigh-high toga wraps, hairy calves exposed); all of it done for the sake of
historical accuracy. But Roman orgies were decidedly forbidden – or rather,
transformed into lavish house and garden parties where the wine nevertheless
liberally flowed and everyone – even the Emperor – was occasionally left
laughing. In a curious way, the innate absurdity in all this socially cleansed
extravagance actually lent itself to more imaginative interpretations of what ‘ye ole’ antiquity’ must have been; the
cultural aspects of Roman life meticulously researched down to the very last
detail, but with mostly British actors assuming key roles to play their more
lusty Mediterranean brethren.
As for
religion…while nobody in America at this time would have referred to their
nation as ‘an empire’ in the classical Roman sense – America’s ‘e pluribus unum’ pride was firmly aligned to an even more fervent
adherence to those Judeo-Christian principles; ‘in God we trust’ more than just a catchy shibboleth emblazoned
across its legal tender. And Hollywood,
and the Catholic League of Decency saw to it Bible-fiction stories like Demetrius and the Gladiators were as
educational – if slightly top-heavy in their moralization as parables, or
rather, blueprints for how one should aspire to live his/her life. Movies like this were perhaps more readily
worshiped by the audiences for their scope and spectacle than their sermonized
storytelling. But at their core, each remained the self-appointed custodian of
America’s collective ideology imparted on the general populace; promoting
virtue as its own reward and condemning the folly of excess, even as the movies
themselves reveled in graphically illustrated pageantry and implied
debaucheries in glorious color by DeLuxe.
Looking back,
one has to sincerely admire the machinery behind the exercise; the mammoth
undertaking alone – mostly done on studio back lots and full scale, with an
army of extras cheering, raising the bar very high in historical accuracy. When
we reflect upon movies like Demetrius
and the Gladiators today, they tend to take on a quaintly
intelligent/quasi-historical methodology for critiquing humanity in the
present; the ancient world’s woes strangely running parallel to our own. Have
we really moved so little beyond this struggling Pagan ancestry that it could
continue to ring so true? For this time, the conquering of society’s worst
vices through a stringent adherence to one’s faith was seen as a noble pursuit
vastly promoted in America’s houses of both religion and politics. If only it
were so today! But Bible/fiction epics serve another purpose too; to promote a
unified, unquestioning devotion to a singularly higher authority, accepted in the 1950’s, though all too readily ignored,
questioned or even crucified (pun intended) by our cultural mandarins today as
myopic anti-everyone else. In case you haven’t noticed, it is not ‘fashionable’
(and in some places, even permissible) to take a sense of personal pride in
Christianity any more.
Demetrius and the Gladiators is perhaps an
easier epic to swallow than The Robe
precisely because it leaves Jesus Christ and the crucifixion in the not so
distant past. Apart from the movie’s prologue (picking up exactly where The Robe left off, with the public
execution of Marcellus (Richard Burton) and Diana (Jean Simmons), Demetrius and the Gladiators
concentrates almost exclusively on the story of one man driven to question his
faith – bitterly forsaking it for a brief time – before rectifying his devotion
to the Almighty by appealing to his better half. Setting aside its more obvious religious
pretext, one can still admire Demetrius
and the Gladiators as a triumph of the human spirit over seemingly
insurmountable odds and the mad Emperor, Caligula (played again with demonic
clarity by Jay Robinson). Sin itself is
deliciously reincarnated herein as the sultry Messalina (Susan Hayward, vamping
as the devious minx). To counterbalance Demetrius’ fall from grace (Victor
Mature reprising his role as the liberated slave from The Robe), we get Barry Jones as Caligula’s benevolent uncle,
Claudius: a true nobleman, granting mercy and pledging tolerance to an
unfaithful spouse with outstretched hands – professing, at least in the final
moments – to a new and enlightened era in modern Rome.
Our story
begins with Caligula’s vitriol, condemning Marcellus Gallio and Diana to death
– the finale from The Robe, though
interestingly, shown to us from slightly different angles, suggesting the scene
was either photographed two different ways while shooting The Robe or cast and crew were reassembled at a later date to
reshoot the finale in anticipation of this sequel. Diana gives the robe worn by
Christ to Marcellus’ devoted servant, Marcipor (David Leonard), instructing him
to pass it on to ‘the Big Fisherman’ –
meaning Peter (Michael Rennie). The robe is then placed in Demetrius’ care, the
loyal slave given his freedom by Marcellus, before the pair is led away to
their execution. Observing from the galleries are Caligula’s uncle, Claudius
and his much younger wife, Messalina, whose penchant for seducing virile Roman
warriors is well-known at court. Afterward, the thoroughly mad Caligula places
an inordinate emphasis on reacquiring the robe, believing it alone has
bewitched his courtiers and, in fact, holds the secrets to ‘eternal life’. The
skies over Rome thunder with God’s wrath, Caligula pacing the cavernous halls
of his throne room before intruding upon Messalina’s slumber and Claudius, who
has been toiling all night in an adjacent study over several reports from
Galilee about the crucifixion of the Messiah. Caligula, however is far more
interested in the couple’s sleeping arrangements, suggesting Messalina is using
Claudius to manipulate and overthrow his government.
Later, at
Marcellus and Diana’s tomb, Peter offers a solemn prayer to their loyal
followers. Unable to bring himself to accept their deaths Demetrius offers
Peter the robe. Peter instructs Demetrius to keep the cloth safe and Demetrius
elects to take it to the potter’s house where his beloved, Lucia (Debra Paget)
resides. Demetrius asks Lucia to keep the robe for him until Peter’s arrival.
Unhappy chance for all the Pretorian Guard arrives under orders from Caligula.
In the ensuing struggle to reclaim the robe, Demetrius strikes one of the
soldiers and is arrested for sedition against the state. Caligula sentences Demetrius to death, but is
discouraged from carrying it out by Messalina, who suggests the ‘Christian’
would make a more handsome and worthy edition to the Emperor’s gladiatorial
school, presided over by Strabo (Ernest Borgnine); a one-time warrior given his
freedom by Caligula. Later, Messalina sneaks into the school to see Demetrius.
Once again, his attempts to flee are thwarted by the Pretorian Guard. Demetrius
vows never to fight in the arena, telling Strabo that according his religious
beliefs it is a sin to kill. At the school, Demetrius befriends Glycon (William
Marshall), but makes a rather bad enemy of Dardanius (Richard Egan); a vane
champion. Diana arranges for some
diversions for the gladiators who are about to die; a night of wine and women.
Demetrius meets the naïve prostitute, Paula (Anne Bancroft). She is smitten
with Demetrius, although he is quite disinterested in her. Presently, Dardanius
attempts to humiliate Demetrius by inquiring if it is true all Christians must
turn the other cheek – striking Demetrius in the face with a hearty laugh
before being brutally knocked to the ground by Glycon. Observing the
confrontation from the relative safety of her box, Messalina tells Strabo to
pit Glycon against Demetrius in the arena the next afternoon.
Before
Caligula, Glycon and Demetrius stage a pretend sparring match that fools no
one; each refusing to violently attack or murder the other. The crowd begins to
boo. When Glycon trips and falls, losing his sword, Demetrius whispers for him
to pick it up. But Caligula orders Demetrius to swiftly dispatch the fallen
warrior. Instead, Demetrius pleads for the Emperor to spare Glycon’s life; in
doing so he incurs Caligula’s considerable wrath. Caligula releases Glycon –
then sets a pack of tigers to devour Demetrius. Instead, Demetrius kills the wild
beasts with only a knife as his protection. The crowd loves it, declaring
Demetrius their latest hero. But Demetrius is badly damaged by these attacks
and Messalina quickly sees to his wounds. Restored to health, Demetrius is
brought to Claudius’ home by Messalina. She attempts to break him of his
Christian beliefs. Alas, her wily seduction is thwarted by the Emperor’s
command. It seems Messalina’s uncle (Selmer Jackson) and cousin (Douglas
Brooks) have been found out in their attempt on Caligula’s life; having
implicated Messalina in their murder plot. Already primed to believe the worst
about Messalina, Caligula accosts ten of his senators to swear she is plotting
his overthrow. But Messalina works quickly to diffuse the situation by altering
Caligula’s allegations so it now appears these senators have been malicious to
smear her reputation. Drunk with power and utterly insane, Caligula sentences
Messalina’s uncle and cousin to death, but sets her free while threatening to
put all of his senators to death for lying to him. Later, Messalina confides in Demetrius she
is, in fact, guilty of conspiring with her late uncle and cousin to overthrow
the Emperor. Unable to convince Demetrius to run away with her to the high country,
Messalina orders Demetrius’ to be returned to the gladiatorial school, bitterly
determined to see him die in the arena in order to keep her secret.
During yet
another orgy arranged by Messalina for the gladiators, Paula smuggles Lucia in
as a prostitute so she may spend a few brief hours with Demetrius before he
fights the next day. Regrettably, Lucia is found out by Dardanius. Demetrius is
dragged to a nearby holding cell to observe as Dardarius and several of the
other gladiators molest Lucia; her violent screams quelled by Demetrius’ prayer
to God to spare his beloved. Instead, Lucia appears to die in Dardanius’ arms
and Demetrius vows revenge on all his fellow gladiators in the arena the next
afternoon. True to his shattered faith, Demetrius slaughters all whom he
believes are responsible for Lucia’s death; his brutalities impress Caligula
and the people. Caligula makes Demetrius a bargain. Swear an allegiance to Rome
and forsake Christ and Caligula will grant Demetrius his freedom and even honor
him with the exalted rank in the Pretorian guard. Believing God has betrayed
his prayer to save Lucia, Demetrius renounces his faith and is set free from
the arena, taking with him Glycon to be his loyal servant. A short while later,
Demetrius indulges his earthly desires with Messalina at the summer retreat she
once shared with Claudius (actually the same set used as Marcellus’ house in The Robe). Caligula is amused by their
affair. He delights in taunting his uncle with rumors of his wife’s
infidelities. But before long Peter arrives to confront Demetrius, not with
words of admonishment, but love. The next afternoon, Caligula , fitfully
enraged over his guards’ inability to reclaim the robe - orders that unless it
is located immediately and brought to him he will have ever tenth man in the
Pretorian guard crucified as a warning to others not to fail their Emperor.
Claudius
suggests instead Caligula appoint Demetrius to the task of recovering the robe.
If Demetrius is successful, Caligula promises no more bloodshed. However, if he
fails the Emperor threatens the streets of Rome will run red with the blood of
his enemies. To spare Peter and the rest from certain death, Demetrius demands
of Peter he return the sacred cloth, only to discover it is currently clutched
in Lucia’s hands. She has not died but fallen into a catatonic trance ever
since the night of the orgy, caught in peaceful repose so long as she clings to
Christ’s garment. In attempting to dislodge the robe from Lucia’s hands,
Demetrius is reminded of the fateful moment at the crucifixion (a flashback
from The Robe) when Christ bowed his
head, saying “Forgive them Father, for
they know not what they do.” His faith restored, Demetrius rises to see
Lucia shaken from her paralytic slumber, giving Demetrius the robe to bring to
the Emperor. But Caligula is unimpressed by the modest hand-woven cloth, disillusioned
after he deliberately has a Christian prisoner slaughtered to see if the robe
will work its spell and restore the corpse with life. There is no magic and
Caligula now blames Demetrius, who attempts to strike him down before a crowd
in the throne room. Caligula condemns Demetrius to death in the arena. But
Demetrius’ life is spared when the Pretorian Guards rebel against their
Emperor. Caligula is speared to death as he sits on his throne.
Claudius is
declared the new Emperor and Messalina – who previously wept genuine tears at
the thought of losing Demetrius – now rises to take her place by her elder
husband’s side; confessing her sins “now
at an end too”. Claudius declares from
this day forward Christians shall have nothing to fear from Rome’s imperial
seat of authority and Messalina quietly expresses to Demetrius “my husband and I wish you good fortune”;
Demetrius, Peter and Glycon departing the throne room with humanity’s liberation
seemingly at hand.
Demetrius and the Gladiators is often
powerful; an unexpectedly moving spectacle - swayed, as we are, by the enormity
of its sets and the cleverness and scope in its storytelling. Alas, in the late
1970’s, it became something of a blood sport with film critics to condemn and
poke fun at these lavish exhibitions; just another religious potboiler prone to
nonsensically quaint notions of Christianity at large, herein imbued with faux
piety and fraught with oodles of historical inaccuracies. Fair enough: one
cannot in good conscience deny certain artistic liberties have been taken. Even
so, Demetrius and the Gladiators is
an estimable effort: entertainment achieved with reverence and capturing at
least the essence of a Biblical parable without strictly adhering to any
particular text from either the Old or New Testaments. Critics who write off
films like this as hokey legend wrapped in the enigma of the Christ are perhaps
missing the point: that once seen they continue to serve a fundamental purpose,
stirring from within something, if not quite pure, than distinctly reminiscent
of our own genuine faith. Even if the tale is fictitious, the sentiments
expressed never devolve into rank parody. The tableau effect so often associated
with these titanic entertainments – appearing almost as animated renditions of
famous Biblical paintings, is refreshingly absent from Demetrius and the Gladiators, but is also, at once, greatly
tempered by the fact there is no Biblical equivalent to the story being told
herein. Thus, there remains just enough of a framework to allow for the
screenwriter’s formidable artistic license. In hindsight, this is an enviable
movie about God and the men who continue to fight for the resonance in a truer
faith, even when shown to an audience some seventy plus years after its initial
release. And Demetrius and the
Gladiators does just that; exquisitely so.
More’s the
pity no one at Fox considers this film worthy of as much. For Demetrius and the Gladiators, apart
from being given limited release through Twilight Time, exhibits none of the
meticulous restoration work performed on its predecessor, The Robe. Herein, it behooves
the reader to reconsider this out of print disc fetching big bucks on Amazon is
worthy of a lot more consideration. Personally, I am of the opinion if a movie
is good enough to get a 1080p release – even as a limited edition – then it deserves
the proper remastering and restoration to achieve the best possible results. We
don’t get that on Demetrius and the
Gladiators; a hi-def transfer derived from intermediate elements mastered back
in 2008 or thereabouts. While the results are decidedly not awful, they are
also not impressive. Color balancing is the big issue on this disc: tonality
and density both off; the image suffering from some light to moderate fading
too; certain portions of the Eastman-color looking very ruddy brown and/or
orange-red: flesh occasionally veering into unnatural ‘piggy pink’. Fox has
also made absolutely no attempt to clean up age-related dirt, damage, scratches
and white blemishes throughout. While not heavy they are occasionally
distracting. Ditto for the built-in flicker.
There is
better news with the audio; a 4.0 DTS-HD rendering that aptly recreates the
original theatrical mix, complete with directionalized dialogue that follows
the characters in the surround channels and exhibits remarkable robustness and
clarity in Franx Waxman’s iconic underscore. One minor flub: dialogue
occasionally seems ever so slightly out of sync with the lips moving on the screen.
Whether this is a flaw inherent in the original dubbing process or something
inadvertently tinkered with during the porting over to disc is open for
discussion. I suspect the latter, but have no real evidence to suggest as much.
Regrettably, the only extra herein is Twilight Time’s usual affinity for an
isolate score. Julie Kirgo’s liner notes are always a treat. More good stuff
from her on this outing, but that’s about it. Bottom line: although made for
roughly 1/3 the cost of its predecessor, Demetrius
and the Gladiators is a quality A-list production. This hi-def transfer is
a disappointment, and no two ways of getting around it. With Easter just around
the corner I am still going to recommend it for content, but with decided
caveats.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
2.5
EXTRAS
1
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