Spartacus

1960’s Spartacus was a laborious film for all involved.  After one week of filming under Anthony Mann’s direction, Stanley Kubrick took over as director.  Working with a script by blacklisted Dalton Trumbo that feels pulled between political views of the time and a main character paralleling Moses, Kubrick nonetheless created a beautiful and stirring epic that has stood the test of time and has become an iconic classic.

Kirk Douglas plays Spartacus, a rebellious slave in ancient Rome.  He is recruited by Batiatus (Peter Ustinov) to become a gladiator.  While this is presented as an opportunity, it is just another form of slavery, where the men are treated like thoroughbred horses and trained until it is time to fight to the death.  During this time, Spartacus meets Varina (Jean Simmons).  Rather she is sent to his room, as gladiators are rewarded with slave women.  With the famous line, “I am not an animal!” Spartacus’s and Varina’s relationship begins as one of quiet, restrained emotion and respect.  When a visit from Marcus Glabrus (John Dall) leaves Spartacus lucky to be alive, a riot soon follows.  Once the gladiators escape, Spartacus brings them together as an ever growing army of former slaves with hopes of ending slavery and overthrowing Rome.  Of course, this makes Spartacus a threat and enemy to all of Rome.

Spartacus was nominated for six Academy Awards and won four.  The film was nominated for, but did not win the awards for best film editing and music.  It did win the awards for art direction and costume design for a film in color.  Russell Metty received the Oscar for cinematography, though it’s rumored that most of the work was done by Kubrick himself.  And Peter Ustinov won the award for best supporting actor, the only actor to win under Kubrick’s direction.

Most films by Stanley Kubrick have a very distinct intangible feel to them, something that is not very present in Spartacus.  Instead, it feels more like the biblical epics of the period: Ben Hur, The Ten Commandments, The Robe for example.  This may be credited to the fact that this was the last film Kubrick directed that he did not have total artistic control over.

One of the most famous scenes from Spartacus was not in the original theatrical release.  In the scene, Crassus (Laurence Olivier) coyly attempts to seduce young Antonious (Tony Curtis).  It includes a conversation on whether a man prefers “oysters or snails” as euphemism for homosexuality.  Both The Production Code Administration and the Legion of Decency rejected the scene and it was cut until the restoration of the film in 1991.  However, the audio for the scene had been lost, and Olivier deceased.  Therefore, Anthony Hopkins is heard in the recording, in his best Olivier voice.

Spartacus is a marathon of a film (over 3 hours) that like other epics of its time, can feel like a real commitment.  However, it is a smart, engaging film as well as an exciting ride with a good amount of action.  It boasts a diverse list of great actors, all of whom give great performances, especially Douglas and Ustinov.  Art geeks might want to seek it out for Saul Bass’ contributions, both in the credits and a few key scenes.  And though it doesn’t have that unmistakably Kubrick atmosphere, it is still an important film for anyone wanting to broaden their views on his work.

“I am Spartacus!”

Rope

I first saw Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope late one night in my old college apartment.  My roommate preferred to get to bed earlier, so I warned her about my movie and tried my best to be quiet.  Within twenty minutes, my vocal excitement had kept her awake and curious enough to see what the hell I was watching.  As I apologized and explained what was going on in the film, she stayed for a few minutes, standing, watching with me and getting just as worked up.  Soon, we were both on the couch, yelling directions at Jimmy Stewart and becoming far too stressed out.  It was a great moment for this Hitchcock fan.

In Rope, two young men, Phil (Farley Granger) and Brandon (John Dall), decide to pull off the perfect murder.  We come in just as they have killed their friend, David (Dick Hogan).  Instead of immediately disposing of the body, they tuck it away in a chest.  They have bigger plans this evening, a party.  What’s the point of pulling off the perfect murder without a little danger?  Guests include David’s mother (Constance Collier), father (Cedric Hardwicke), girlfriend Janet (Joan Chandler), Janet’s ex boyfriend Kenneth (Douglas Dick), and Rupert (James Stewart) whom the murderous boys admire and got their idea from.

Some may consider this Hitchcock’s ultimate longshot film.  It is mostly comprised of 10 continuous shots, edited together to give the illusion of one fluid piece.  Simply put, when the camera ran out of film, the shot dissolved, usually into the back of a character’s dark suit, and the new reel began from there, fading back in without missing a beat.  It gives you the feeling that you shouldn’t look away, or that you’re a silent guest at the party.  However, if you can keep a sharp eye, there are seven conventional edits throughout the film.

The longshots and other elements make the film feel like a play.  All the characters move within one connected setting, revolving around the chest that only Phil, Brandon and the audience can feel the weight of.  Many times, the camera follows characters around, it bounces a bit, feeling a bit like footsteps.  Its focus on different characters in a confined space, or closeups of tell tale objects is what really sets it apart from anything that could be put on stage.

Of course, my roommate and I were not shouting about the inventive camera work, but the suspense.  Whenever someone hung around the chest too long, or looked at it questioningly or *GASP!* was about to open it, levels of chaos exploded in our minds.  All we could do was hold our breath, yell like mad people and slowly exhale.  Over and over.  I think we were both glad the film was only about 80 minutes long, we couldn’t take much more of that thick tension.

It is not all about the chest that creates tension.  While Brandon is surprisingly calm about their perfect murder, Phil slowly becomes a nervous wreck.  Brandon’s grand idea of serving dinner on the vile chest, casually flaunting the murder weapon out in the open and inviting Rupert without Phil knowing is enough to send Phil into a drinking binge.  Surely someone as superior as Brandon won’t be caught because of his friend’s loose lips.

Most Hitchcock films are centered around murder, even a few other than Rope discuss how to pull off a perfect murder.  Here we get a warped philosophy behind a perfect murder.  You see, their old friend Rupert once discussed with them how an elite group could be allowed to pick off those with less meaningful lives.  There’s even a scene where Rupert and David’s mother casually joke about how murder could solve problems like unemployment and overpopulation.  This talk can be all fun and games, but they don’t know that Brandon and Phil have taken it very seriously and intend to prove that they are part of that superior group that can get away with murder.  How awful they must think of poor David.  And some of the ways Brandon justifies his murder are downright disturbing.

Rope is an ingenious murder mystery dinner, where the guests don’t even realize there has been a murder, but they pick up on the mystery.  They keep wondering where David could be, it’s not in his character to be so late.  Meanwhile, we sit on pins and needles, worried sick like Phil or jonesing on the excitement of being so close to danger like Brandon.  And all we can do is pray that Rupert does or doesn’t open that chest.

“By what right do you dare to say that there’s a superior few to which you belong?”