Caesar and Cleopatra

When this film was recently shown on British television I recorded it on the rather naïve assumption that it would be a grand epic of Classical antiquity, something along the lines of the famously expensive Elizabeth Taylor "Cleopatra", still often cited as the costliest film ever made when values are adjusted for inflation. Of course, "Caesar and Cleopatra" is nothing of the sort; the British cinema never really had the budget to copy Hollywood in this respect although some European film-makers, especially in Italy, certainly tried to.

The film was certainly expensive by the standards of 1945; indeed, it was reported to be the most expensive film ever made in Britain at that date, costing well over a million pounds. It is not, however, a Hollywood-style epic but a cinematic adaptation of the play by George Bernard Shaw. While in the Egyptian capital city of Alexandria, Julius Caesar becomes involved in a power-struggle between Queen Cleopatra and the backers of her younger brother (and husband) Ptolemy. In real life Caesar and Cleopatra were lovers, but here their relationship is portrayed not as a romantic or a sexual one. The middle-aged Caesar is shown more as a father-figure to the youthful Cleopatra, a mentor who tutors her in the arts of politics and government. (And, given the intrigue-ridden nature of the Egyptian court, these are certainly areas where she could do with a little tuition).

Towards the end of his long life- this film was made five years before his death- Shaw was a revered figure of English literature, regarded as the nearest thing the twentieth century had produced to a Shakespeare. In more recent years this reputation has faded somewhat, partly because his plays are not always very dramatic. He can be stronger on philosophy and political theory than on action or dramatic tension, and even though his contributions to political and philosophical debates are often expressed in witty and vivid dialogue, the reader (and to an even greater extent the theatre-goer) is sometimes left with the impression that Shaw's linguistic gifts might have been better employed in penning political tracts than in writing for the stage.

Nevertheless, some of Shaw's plays have been turned into very good films, notably the 1938 "Pygmalion" with Leslie Howard and Wendy Hiller, or the 1941 "Major Barbara", also with Hiller and Robert Morley. (One could also include "My Fair Lady" in this list, but that is really second-hand Shaw, a musical based upon "Pygmalion" which owes much of its success to its songs). There have, unfortunately, also been a number of failures, such as "The Millionairess", which relied too heavily on Sophia Loren's glamour and the comic talents of Peter Sellers (which were not too much in evidence) and, although supposedly a comedy, ended up about as funny as a two-hour speech at a TUC conference.

"Caesar and Cleopatra" must also rank among the less successful Shaw adaptations. A lot of its million-pound-plus budget seems to have been spent on its lavish sets- economic and political considerations in 1945 precluded location shooting in Egypt itself- but from a modern perspective they seem like part of the problem, giving the whole production a very artificial, stagey look. It is said that the director Gabriel Pascal ordered sand from Egypt to get the colour right, but when everything else looks so artificial a gesture like that seems like an unnecessary luxury. The stagey impression is strengthened by the dialogue, both in the unnatural way it is spoken and, at times, in the way it is written. (Shaw could sometimes succumb to the delusion that if he was the twentieth-century Shakespeare it was incumbent on him to write in the style of his august predecessor, particularly when dealing with historical subjects).

The best acting performance comes from Claude Rains as Caesar. (I normally think of Rains as a supporting actor in roles like his French police chief in "Casablanca", so it was nice to see him in a leading role for once). This is not the Caesar of history, who was doubtless a lot more ruthless than he is portrayed here, but it is Caesar as Shaw wrote him, an essentially decent man whose undoubted sense of Realpolitik is tempered by his instincts towards humanity and clemency.

Vivien Leigh, however, is well below her best here. She may have been one of Britain's leading actresses of the period, but seems quite wrong for the part. She was 32 at the time, and never seems convincing as Cleopatra, whom Shaw envisaged as a kittenish teenager. A thirty-something Cleopatra would not, I am sure, have required any lessons from Caesar in statecraft.

Of the supporting cast, the best is Francis L. Sullivan as Ptolemy's wily and ambitious tutor Pothinus. The young Stewart Granger seems to have wandered in from another film, possibly one of the swashbuckling historical adventures which were later to become his stock-in-trade. Flora Robson has a thankless task as Cleopatra's nurse Ftatateeta, a character seemingly invented for the sole purpose of raising a laugh every time one of the other characters mispronounces her absurd name. Cecil Parker specialised in playing upper-middle-class English gentlemen and here he plays Caesar's slave Britannus as an upper-middle-class English gentleman transported back in time to Ancient Egypt, something which is never remotely convincing.

The film was described at the time as a "box office stinker"; evidently British audiences in the last year of the Second World War wanted something a bit more entertaining and uplifting than this wordy, overlong disquisition on the nature of political power. Some films which were "stinkers" when they first came out have gone on to become classics, but "Caesar and Cleopatra" seems to have gone in the opposite direction; today it is a little-known, rarely-seen curiosity. 5/10

Shaw was a wonderful historian with a deadly eye for irony. Claude Rains brings off Caesar with withering poise and breezy wit, standing tall above the flashing eye of an Egyptian hurricane named Cleopatra (Vivien Leigh). Caesar's aide-de-camp is an affable bear of a man named Rufio (Basil Sydney), who mainly just keeps his eye on Caesar. Cleopatra is likewise sheltered by her scheming counselor Ftatateeta (Flora Robson), a name that not even Caesar can pronounce. Character actor Cecil Parker as Britannus adds quaintness and serendipity to an already splendid alchemy of spotty characters. The film moves by turns through a narrow skein of classical history as the reliquarian Egyptian world gives way to a streamlined Roman one. Along the way, we witness the contending parties encompassed and entangled in a delightful pantheon of wit, irony, satire, morals, manners, and adventure. Overall, a tremendously facile projection of one of England's sharpest satirical voices, G.B. Shaw.

Shaw's hardly a speck on the windshield of American cultural consciousness anymore. Too bad. "The Devil's Disciple," "Major Barbara," "Arms and the Man," "Candida," "You Never Can Tell." Witty, clever, insightful, intriguing... a century and more later.

For those who haven't discovered him yet, this colorful, fast-paced rendition of "C&C" makes a nifty portal. The film -looks- like "Quo Vadis" or "Samson and Delilah" (of more or less the same vintage). It even looks like the Taylor-Burton-Harrison marathon done almost two decades later.

But it doesn't -feel- like -any- of those. Shaw always had a great story to tell -- and a something worthwhile to -say- -- and he (or his characters) almost invariably told and said it well. One could hardly call the 1934 or 1963 films "insightful romps." This, however...

I've been a sucker for Vivien Leigh since I watched her whip the boys into shape in "GWTW," but as interesting as she was there, she's miles beyond Scarlet O'Hara here. Shaw gave -his- Cleo a far more complex character than Young or Mankiewicz gave their Cleo's; this alabaster Leigh is both adolescent and guileful. But to Rains's conflicted but self-suspect Caesar, she's about as transparent as that look-alike, late-night, hottie-cum-biblical-scholar who inherited Gene Scott's TV ministry.

The relationships here are no different from those in the Mankiewicz mess, but they move along in far more sophisticated -- and entertaining -- fashion here. We already know the resolution, it's the unfolding of the drama that matters.

Rains ("Casablanca," "The Invisible Man") and Leigh bring the wise, amused, self-effacing old man and the desperate, manipulative, narcissistic young woman in Shaw's play far more credibly to life than was the case in the DeMille or Manciewicz films. And supporters like Robson, Granger and the rest add plenty. But as in any Shaw play, it's the playwright's sophisticated revelations that matter.

The "big success" narcissist who thinks a "trophy wife" is a good idea might learn plenty from a trip to Blockbuster and a two-dollar investment.

Impressive acting is the highlight of 1945's "Caesar and Cleopatra," a British production starring Vivien Leigh, Claude Rains, Stewart Granger, Flora Robson and Francis L. Sullivan. In smaller roles, you can spot Michael Rennie, Kay Kendall and Jean Simmons.

This production was not without its problems - made during World War II, bombings often delayed the filming; there was a five-week break while Vivien Leigh recovered from a miscarriage; and there was a shortage of materials to build the sets. Nevertheless, for a British film, this is a real spectacle and made in color, which was also unusual back then.

Shaw's Cleopatra (Leigh) is a childlike girl/woman who has hitting matches with her younger brother, runs, giggles, talks fast and becomes nervous at the thought of meeting the great Caesar (Rains). In the beginning, she meets him without realizing it.

The two have a flirtation while he teaches her how to be a queen. Shaw's Caesar is an old man, a great warrior and a benevolent ruler who rules with a velvet glove rather than a sword.

Rains and Leigh are wonderful in their roles. Rains, as someone stated, with his Caesar haircut, weary face and beautiful profile looks as if he stepped out of that time period. His mastery of Shaw's language is magnificent, and he really holds the film together.

The stunningly beautiful Leigh, white-faced with glorious cheekbones and dazzling eyes, is a whimsical Cleopatra at first. She matures and becomes calmer and more regal as she learns how to be a queen, but she falls back into her childish ways in the presence of Caesar, particularly when he promises to send her Marc Anthony.

They say the camera adds 10 pounds - frankly, I'm surprised any of the actors could see Leigh, she is so tiny. She gives a sprightly, energetic performance.

Shaw's Cleopatra is 16 (though in reality she is 20 or 21) - Leigh was 32 at the time of filming and comes off like the teenager Shaw wrote.

Stewart Granger as Apollodorus shows off his very hunky physique - no wonder he came to the attention of Hollywood. As two aides of Caesar's, Basil Sydney as Ruffio and Cecil Parker as Britanus give fine performances.

Finally, Flora Robson as the protective, tough nursemaid of Cleopatra's, Ftatateeta, sinks her teeth into the role and is a force to contend with.

This movie flopped, probably because audiences thought it was going to be some huge spectacle - it's big for England, but it's not DeMille.

Still, it's a real treat to see one of the classics done by two great actors who were well-trained and well-equipped to perform George Bernard Shaw.

Bernard Shaw does not perhaps adapt too well to the screen, but, in my opinion, this adaptation is particularly successful and probably the best of them all, although one video edition in the UK didn't even risk mentioning Shaw's name anywhere on the box, prefering to market it as mere exotic spectacle. It is of course all that, but as with everything Shaw wrote, much, much more, and is essentially about IDEAS, (not necessarily, as has often been contended, always Shaw's own personal convictions). Vivien Leigh as Cleopatra gives yet another sublime and first-rate performance as she progresses from frightened teenager to an imperious Queen with a real understanding of power. (The scene in which she whips a hapless slave in order to experience the "thrill" of total power, strangely pre-echoes the psychology of the much misunderstood SALO). Mention too must also be made of the superb musical score by Georges Auric, and admiration expressed for the sheer audacity of producer Pascal for making such a lavish and expensive production in poverty-stricken post-war Britain. Well worth watching.