Film in the 1960s circled around various social, political and historical themes. My favorite is `Women Who Altered the Course of History.' On the always unsafe British throne we saw Eleanor of Aquitaine (The Lion in Winter), Anne Boleyn (Anne of the Thousand Days), and Elizabeth I duking it out with her arch enemy (Mary, Queen of Scots). Long before them, however, on the world's stage, we have the redoubtable Cleopatra of Egypt, making the power grab of all time. We have also Elizabeth Taylor of Hollywood, making the power grab of all time. A product of the ancient MGM regime, Taylor has since acknowledged her bitter personal dealings with studio boss L.B. Mayer. Thus, when 20th Century Fox offered Mike Todd's widow the role of Cleopatra, she had certain contractual demands: a record-breaking million dollar salary, expense accounts for herself and new husband, Eddie Fisher, $10,000 per day for any work past contract termination, and, if anyone doubts Taylor's business acumen, the film was to be shot in Todd-AO, the cameras and film process of which she was sole owner. Her final take was in excess of $7 million. The resultant film, looking backwards 40 years, is still lively, never boring, and surprisingly accurate. There is respect for the historical record (Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra also time-compresses, as does Shaw's Ceasar and Cleopatra). But Joseph Mankiewicz's `modern-speaking' script unwisely bites off more than it can chew. It wants to tell the whole story of Rome and Egypt during a power struggle that altered the course of Western Civilization. We live today in Augustus Ceasar's world, not Cleopatra's. Architecture, government, bureaucratic structure, even plumbing, all descend from Rome and the edicts of Octavian, who later became Augustus. Hollywood on the other hand, and to a great extent `the modern woman,' live in the world Elizabeth Taylor created. Hollywood has had its share of powerful women Garbo and Hepburn both successfully trumped Louis B. Mayer while negotiating contracts. But Taylor negotiated Cleopatra acting as her very own corporate mogul, and the star system, and how movie stars get paid, changed forever. But something else, something more important, happened while filming Cleopatra: the twice-divorced, recently-widowed Taylor had just married Eddie Fisher, father of two, husband of another much-adored movie star, Debbie Reynolds. Richard Burton (Marc Antony) entered the scene, replacing Steven Boyd, and Taylor fell deeply in love. A media storm ignited, and the entire planet watched, as Taylor was condemned by the Catholic Church; the Pope himself called her a wanton home-wrecker. Following her heart, the most famous actress in history decided to conduct life `her way.' Ten thousand Roman extras fill the set as Cleopatra makes her way atop a giant, rolling sphinx. They scream `Liz! Liz! Liz!' Taylor, dressed as a gold-clad Roman eagle, calmly walks towards Rex Harrison's Julius Ceasar and gives him a wink. Hollywood, the star system, the media, and women, are altered forever.
