Not a bad historical epic at all, kind of stirring. Charlton Heston is Roderigo Diaz de Vivar, who comes to be known as El Cyd, an honorific derived from Arabic which is still with us in the form of the name "Said". He's inaccurately introduced as "a simple man." In reality, while not necessarily smart, he's pretty complicated. He's a brilliant general, a charismatic leader, and clumsy at court. (He forces his king, Sancho, to take oaths in public several times, strictly a no-no, yet turns down a crown and sacrifices his life for the same flawed king.) He marries Jimen, has several kids, and dies a mythic death at the head of a combined army of Christians and Moors, fighting for Sancho and Spain. This gigantic thing, with a cast of thousands, was directed efficiently by Anthony Mann, and it must have been a horrible job for him and his ADs. Mann makes splendid use of the wide screen. Miklos Rozsa's score doesn't sound much like his usual recycled stuff. It sounds generically Spanish, with maybe overtones of the bull ring for martial scenes and a touch of a different Rodrigo -- Joaquin-- for romance.
Frankly, I was lost at times in the genealogy and geography. I tried checking out who was who in Wikipedia but it didn't help much. King Sancho is Sancho I, meaning there must have been more Sanchos, not even counting Sancho Panza. There were also two Ben Yussufs, one good and one bad, which was more confusing still. And the geography. A couple of maps would have helped. I have only the vaguest memories of Spain, except for half an hour or so when I had a loaded machine gun pointed at me by the Guardia Civil in the Pyrenees who were, I presume, looking for Basque separatists disguised as stupid American tourists. (I wasn't afraid.) Not that this matters much, because we do get a general sense of El Cyd's rise to the top, with a couple of downs in between, and that's the point of the movie. And there's no mistaking the bad guy, the bad Ben Yussuf. He's in the opening scene, dressed all in black like his followers (a novel touch). He exhorts his army to turn all their knowledge to warfare and do nothing but burn and kill the infidels to the north. The scene ends in a freeze frame of him with his arm stretched out in a Hitlerian salute.
The duels are realistic ones. In the first we see, nobody is dancing on the furniture or lopping off candles. In the second, the two duelists begin with lances, switch to the mace, fight with short Roman-style swords, then wind up with these gigantic two-handed monsters. Clink! WHANG! The dialog is stiff, as befits a medieval epic. I mean, the actors can't sound like they were just dragged in off the streets of Anaheim. Or New York: "Yonder lies da castel of my fodder." So often the contractions are forgone. "I will not," instead of, "I won't." Charlton Heston handles this kind of dialog well, which a lot of performers would not, Sofia Loren included. Heston, asked where in history he belonged, once replied ruefully, "Somewhere between Moses and the Middle Ages." But I don't know what he was complaining about. There aren't that many people who can look comfortable in period costumes. Heston can, just as Errol Flynn did. Heston can act too, whereas it can be said of Robert Taylor, who made similar movies at MGM, that he didn't often get in the way of the scenery. Does anyone see Nicholas Cage or Bruce Willis as El Cyd? It's a gift. Sometimes, though, it must be admitted that the writers stretched a bit much towards poetic speech. "You do not know lovers' time. Tonight is not tonight, but this afternoon. And tomorrow is today." Their joints must have been creaking.
The film is splashed with color and pageantry and is very diverting. There's little left for the viewer to unravel. We know pretty much what all the characters are thinking, even those as complex as El Cyd. For a more challenging look at a mythic figure, try "Lawrence of Arabia," released the year following this.
Frankly, I was lost at times in the genealogy and geography. I tried checking out who was who in Wikipedia but it didn't help much. King Sancho is Sancho I, meaning there must have been more Sanchos, not even counting Sancho Panza. There were also two Ben Yussufs, one good and one bad, which was more confusing still. And the geography. A couple of maps would have helped. I have only the vaguest memories of Spain, except for half an hour or so when I had a loaded machine gun pointed at me by the Guardia Civil in the Pyrenees who were, I presume, looking for Basque separatists disguised as stupid American tourists. (I wasn't afraid.) Not that this matters much, because we do get a general sense of El Cyd's rise to the top, with a couple of downs in between, and that's the point of the movie. And there's no mistaking the bad guy, the bad Ben Yussuf. He's in the opening scene, dressed all in black like his followers (a novel touch). He exhorts his army to turn all their knowledge to warfare and do nothing but burn and kill the infidels to the north. The scene ends in a freeze frame of him with his arm stretched out in a Hitlerian salute.
The duels are realistic ones. In the first we see, nobody is dancing on the furniture or lopping off candles. In the second, the two duelists begin with lances, switch to the mace, fight with short Roman-style swords, then wind up with these gigantic two-handed monsters. Clink! WHANG! The dialog is stiff, as befits a medieval epic. I mean, the actors can't sound like they were just dragged in off the streets of Anaheim. Or New York: "Yonder lies da castel of my fodder." So often the contractions are forgone. "I will not," instead of, "I won't." Charlton Heston handles this kind of dialog well, which a lot of performers would not, Sofia Loren included. Heston, asked where in history he belonged, once replied ruefully, "Somewhere between Moses and the Middle Ages." But I don't know what he was complaining about. There aren't that many people who can look comfortable in period costumes. Heston can, just as Errol Flynn did. Heston can act too, whereas it can be said of Robert Taylor, who made similar movies at MGM, that he didn't often get in the way of the scenery. Does anyone see Nicholas Cage or Bruce Willis as El Cyd? It's a gift. Sometimes, though, it must be admitted that the writers stretched a bit much towards poetic speech. "You do not know lovers' time. Tonight is not tonight, but this afternoon. And tomorrow is today." Their joints must have been creaking.
The film is splashed with color and pageantry and is very diverting. There's little left for the viewer to unravel. We know pretty much what all the characters are thinking, even those as complex as El Cyd. For a more challenging look at a mythic figure, try "Lawrence of Arabia," released the year following this.