Ancient Greece in Film and Popular Culture

Gideon Nisbet,
Ancient Greece in Film and Popular Culture.
Bristol Phoenix Press, 2006.
ISBN: 1 904675 12 3
AUD$43.95 (pb)
170pp
(Review copy supplied by Footprint Books)

While Ancient Greece in Film and Popular Culture is hardly the first account of the ancient world in film (books from Solomon, Wyke, Winkler, and Cyrino come to mind), it is surely the first to concentrate on the ‘trash culture’ component in such efforts. Subtitles are perceived as displaying high culture pretensions and earn automatic disqualification: hence, no discussion of Cacoyannis’ or Pasolini’s versions of Greek tragedy. Instead, Nisbet concentrates on Roger Corman’s Atlas (USA 1961) and Sergio Leone’s The Colossus of Rhodes(Spain/Italy/France 1961), Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure (USA 1989), numerous Hercules efforts (the television series, Hercules: the Legendary Journeys (USA/New Zealand 1995-9), starring Kevin Sorbo receives particular attention) and Xena: Warrior Princess (USA/New Zealand 1995-2001). Mainstream fare such as Robert Wise’s Helen of Troy (USA/Italy 1956), Wolfgang Peterson’s Troy (USA/Malta/UK 2004), Robert Rossen’s Alexander the Great (USA/Spain 1956) and Oliver Stone’s Alexander (Germany/USA/Netherlands/France 2004) is included, but only to illustrate the difficulties cinema faces in trying to recreate Greece with any sort of faithfulness to historical reality.

Underlying Nisbet’s text is a view of the Greek world as too ideas-based. For this the blame can be laid on Plato, Aristotle, and crew. Bill and Ted at least gave that So-crates dude some fun in life. It is also too gay – or at least, camp – for general public consumption. There was no ‘Grecian empire’ (a phrase I have commonly read in student essays), unlike the glory that was Rome. Greek ruins tend to be temples, staid props that are much less dramatic than the amphitheatres of her conqueror. Even military dress in sword-and-sandal films tends to be borrowed from the Romans. The main Greek contribution to the genre seems to be the peplum, although the historical version of this garment was a woman’s dress, much longer than the typical heroic miniskirt worn by cinematic heroes such as Hercules. In brief, the problem with the Greeks is that they aren’t Romans.

Nisbet’s argument is set out in three lively chapters. The first notes the surprising failures in making films about ancient Greece, as opposed to Rome, of low-budget directors such as Corman and Leone. Blame the material, not the creator. The second discusses the inauthenticity of Hercules, a frequently bogus hero whose exploits might be exaggerated or invented even in antiquity. Because he is never the genuine article, his depiction in film and on television has been a remarkable financial success for producers. By contrast it is difficult to create a cinematic Troy without producing a mise-en-scène that is a bricolage of Greek art styles. Imposing modern heroic models also clashes with the ‘original’ Homeric tale. This could be further illustrated by the mock quiz run by the Guardian at the release of Peterson’s Troy. The responses to dilemmas posed in order to determine which hero from the film the reader identified with parodied the modern versions of the main protagonists mercilessly. For Hector, the answer was regularly ‘take it on the chin for the team’; for Achilles, ‘run and complain to Mummy’; and for Paris, ‘look for the hotty’. None of this is noticeably Homeric, or even heroic. Chapter Three moves into the post-classical Greek world of Macedonia. Nisbet discusses Rossen’s Alexander the Great, the 1960s William Shatner television pilot (which permits interesting discussion of Trekkiedom), and the race to make a twenty-first century Alexander. Alexander represents all things to all people, from the ideals of Greek Orthodox nationalism to the dreams of old Etonians. Unfortunately, the fantasy dissolves when attempts are made at cinematic realization, as the result must always fall short of the desires of numerous interest groups who have a stake in the legend.

Throughout, Nisbet emphasizes popular culture and its ability to produce new re-creations of the past. An epilogue (‘Radio Gaga’) underlines the necessity of a personal voice in such criticism. Impersonal objectivity may only serve to reinstate canonic values that are antithetical to popular tastes. The ideological conservatism of Hollywood seeks to turn back the clock and through its resources recreate ‘Culture’ on the screen. Reaching for his gun, Nisbet instead prefers to defend bottom-up narratives, such as Xena, that may struggle up the hilly terrain that was (and is) Greece. The result of all this effort may finally amount to Richard Burt’s ‘loser criticism’, but, like the three hundred Spartans at Thermopylae, it will be a magnificent defeat.

A glossary of terms (some from film studies, others from Classics, and a number from cultural studies) not only assists readers from these divergent interest groups to understand one another but also offers interesting hints of future developments in such criticism. Suggestions for further reading offer accessible texts, including web sites, although there is a strong bias towards English scholarship in these titles (perhaps as a correction to the very American viewpoint of many texts on ancient film originating from the U.S.). A ‘top ten’ of films about ancient Greece is offered (a non-canonical canon!) and a remarkably detailed fourteen page index concludes the book.

As with any deeply personal account, readers are likely to respond with agreement or dissent according to their own interests. There is a danger that the argument boils down to ‘the Greeks are too good for cinema’. Yet the film adaptation of Frank Miller’s 300 (USA 2007) suggests that Sparta, unlike Athens, may be well adapted to the screen (and if the ruins of the original town are unimpressive in comparison to its northern neighbour, as Thucydides famously noted, modern CGI can easily remedy this by inventing a ‘classical’ Sparta). The sadomasochistic and gay subtexts associated with aristocratic Spartiates have been seen by some reviewers as bathetic. Yet the testosterone content of 300 has found favour with wildly cheering red-neck audiences, such as flocked to Starship Troopers (USA 1997), celebrating white men wreaking terrible violence on the Other all in the name of Freedom. Nisbet cites the influence of Plato’s myth of the prisoners in the cave, as described in detail in the Republic, and its influence on modern film studies. But he also notes the crotchety philosopher’s likely negative response to any myth-making he might observe if he were to go to the movies nowadays. Still, in the suggestion that Rossen’s film is ‘fit fodder for Plato’s Cave’ (36), there lurks the intriguing possibility of its appearance in a putative episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 (MST3K 1988-1999), a series which itself represents an interesting version of popcorn criticism. And while ‘hunks in trunks’ (such as Steve Reeves or Mae West’s show troupe, which included Gordon Mitchell and Dan Vadis) are inherently camp, it is not certain that this is an insoluble problem for the film maker. Nisbet believes that ‘without a feisty Christian girl to resist them’ – a solution only available in Roman movies – ‘men in skirts come across as just, well, gay’ (22). Yet this very scenario, where the leading man resists the ladies, was able to be used to considerable (and comic) effect throughout the television series, Angel (1999-2004). Greekness may be curable…

There can also be arguments about the choice of films investigated. I particularly miss mention of Mario Bava’s cheap and extremely cheerful Hercules in the Centre of the Earth (Italy 1961). Likewise, the finest English language sword-and-sandal entry, Jason and the Argonauts (UK/USA 1963), is generally excluded from discussion as in this book Hercules hogs the mythological stage. Yet with its combination of Hellenistic, post-classical story-telling, including petulant, bourgeois divinities, and stop-motion special effects from Ray Harryhausen, Jason and the Argonauts is perhaps the most satisfying of all such films. And while it may be true that Roman-ness bedevils films about Greece, many of the most striking features of Colossus of Rhodes gain their power from their very derivativeness. The fire-breathing monster statue and the crazy scientist who can destroy ships from afar, otherwise known as Archimedes, are derived from Cabiria (Italy 1914). Leone’s own Last Days of Pompeii (Italy/Spain/Monaco/West Germany 1959) provides the model for a volcanic eruption that is visually quoted in his later film. Such scenes may be inauthentic, but then authenticity is hardly a vital criterion in this field.

More could well be said on the historical setting of these films. For instance, the listing of HRH Prince Peter of Greece as historical advisor in the opening credits for Helen of Troy is not merely a seal of official approval, but indicative of the use of ancient Greek culture to support conservative governments against modernist, godless communists and their socialist fellow travellers. And while Nisbet recognizes that there have been interesting non-western versions of the Alexander myth (e.g., the Indian Sikander (1941) and Japanese Reign: the Conqueror (1999)), he cannot treat these without expanding his topic greatly. The topic will surely be investigated by others.

Nisbet acknowledges the danger of his approach: that hipness may descend into horror movie territory, creating “that perennial students’ nightmare, the trendy don” (139). Overall, he has avoided this and opened up the field successfully. In democratic fashion (perhaps Greek-inspired, perhaps not), the last words of his text are ‘get interpreting’.

Arthur Pomeroy,
Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand.

About the Author

Arthur Pomeroy

About the Author


Arthur Pomeroy

Arthur Pomeroy is Professor of Classics and Programme Director at Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand. His book Then It Was Destroyed by the Volcano, a study of the uses of the ancient world in film and television, will appear from Duckworth in late 2007.View all posts by Arthur Pomeroy →