THE FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, a highly fictionalised 1964 historical epic directed by Anthony Mann (EL CID, WINCHESTER 73' etc...) chronicling the gradual decline of the Western Roman Empire under the rule of the insane Emperor Commodus (played by the late, great Christopher Plummer), starts on a high: with breathtaking cinematography, stunning set pieces, a Shakespearean script and two acting legends (Alec Guinness and James Mason) playing off one another like Djokovic and Federer. Alas, THE FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE slowly starts to roll downhill from there.
A film with all of the scale and scope of Akira Kurosawa's RAN but none of its emotional intensity. The script quickly trades in style for spectacle, orchestrating unending military parades, lacklustre battle scenes, boring senate speeches that would put THE PHANTOM MENACE to shame, an unoriginal chariot race that tries and epically fails to top 1959's BEN-HUR (you even have Messala in this film too!) and a star-crossed romance (with about as much romantic chemistry as a baked potato) that makes Anakin and Padmé look like Rick and Ilsa.
"No! No! No!" James Mason cries out as he falls, mortally wounded by a Roman spear while delivering one of his many speeches... And at the end of the day, that's what this film feels like: a tired, sunken chronicle crying out to be prolonged when it could've and should've been put to rest much earlier; one will need a great deal of patience to endure the 3:59 runtime of this crude, bloated mess.
A film with all of the scale and scope of Akira Kurosawa's RAN but none of its emotional intensity. The script quickly trades in style for spectacle, orchestrating unending military parades, lacklustre battle scenes, boring senate speeches that would put THE PHANTOM MENACE to shame, an unoriginal chariot race that tries and epically fails to top 1959's BEN-HUR (you even have Messala in this film too!) and a star-crossed romance (with about as much romantic chemistry as a baked potato) that makes Anakin and Padmé look like Rick and Ilsa.
"No! No! No!" James Mason cries out as he falls, mortally wounded by a Roman spear while delivering one of his many speeches... And at the end of the day, that's what this film feels like: a tired, sunken chronicle crying out to be prolonged when it could've and should've been put to rest much earlier; one will need a great deal of patience to endure the 3:59 runtime of this crude, bloated mess.