COLOSSUS OF RHODES, THE - DVD review

...Leone's first credited film as a director, and it shows clearly the course he was charting as a filmmaker.

John J. Puccio's picture
John J. Puccio

Because Warner Bros. boast that they have the biggest catalogue of films in Hollywood, it affords them the luxury of producing box sets like this one. With their newest box sets of "Cult Camp Classics," they even have a little fun at their own expense, recognizing that when you produce thousands of films over the years, not all of them are going to be critical successes. WB's four box sets of "Cult Camp Classics" pretty much illustrate the point that some of their movies were not, shall we say, always the best.

Volume 1 in the series, "Sci-Fi Thrillers," contains "The Giant Behemoth" (1958), "Queen of Outer Space" (1958), and "Attack of the 50-Foot Woman" (1958). The names alone give you a pretty good idea of the order of quality you're dealing with. Volume 2, "Women in Peril," actually contains one pretty good film, "Caged" (1949), but the other two are worthy of their "camp" designation: "The Big Cube" (1968) and "Trog" (1969). Then, in Volume 3, "Terrorized Travelers," the tone turns more to dramatic camp with "Zero Hour!" (1957, one of several movies Jim Abrahams and the Zucker brothers had fun parodying in "Airplane!"), "Hot Rods to Hell" (1966), and "Skyjacked" (1972). Warner Bros. also make each of these titles available separately.

However, I chose to take the high road and watch Volume 4, "Historical Epics." I figured if I was going to watch anything campy, it might just as well be expensive and campy. The first two movies in Vol. 4 are "Land of the Pharaohs" (1955), starring Jack Hawkins, Joan Collins, Dewey Martin, and Alexis Minotis, directed by Howard Hawks; and "The Prodigal" (1955), with Lana Turner and Edmund Purdom, directed by Richard Thorpe.

Having already reviewed "Land of the Pharaohs," I tackled "The Colossus of Rhodes" (1961) next. Rory Calhoun and Lea Massari star in it, and Sergio Leone directed it. Yes, that Sergio Leone, later of spaghetti-Western fame with "Fistful of Dollars," "For a Few Dollars More," "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly," and "Once Upon a Time in the West." "Colossus" was Leone's first credited film as a director, and it shows clearly the course he was charting as a filmmaker.

For "Colossus" Leone used an Italian crew, a dubbed European cast, Spanish location shooting, MGM production money and distribution, and an American star. Does that sound familiar? What's more, "Colossus" has all the elements that the director would later use in his Westerns, including the laconic hero, the fights, the horses, the gangs, and the head-'em-off-at-the-pass action; just substitute boots for sandals and guns for swords, and you've got your Western.

Given its pedigree, it's hard to classify "Colossus." Call it a spaghetti epic. It's certainly a cut above the typical "Hercules" films of its era, but it comes nowhere near the spectacles like "Samson and Delilah," "The Ten Commandments," "Ben-Hur," or "Spartacus." In fact, if Leone had made a fantasy of the movie and hired Ray Harryhausen to bring the Colossus of Rhodes statue to life, he might have created a better movie. As it is, "Colossus" tries much too seriously to combine history with fiction, which is why it seems so campy today.

The actual Colossus of Rhodes was a gigantic bronze statue of the sun god Helios, 105 feet high, that stood guard at the entrance to the harbor of Rhodes, an island in the Mediterranean near the coast of Greece. The citizens of Rhodes built it around 294-282 B.C., and the people of the Mediterranean considered it one of the Seven Wonders of the World. An earthquake toppled it around 226 B.C. In the movie, its life span is considerably shorter, like a few months rather than over fifty-five years. Well, movies usually compress everything for the sake of dramatic effect, so we should expect that.

According to the movie's preface, the story begins and ends in the year 280 B.C. Here, things begin as we see the despotic King of Rhodes, Serse (Roberto Camardiel), dedicating the new statue. In the background, we see a rebellion brewing against Serse's tyranny, an uprising lead by a fellow named Peliocles (Georges Marchal). But the hero of the film is not from Rhodes; he's a visiting Greek warrior named Dario (Rory Calhoun), whom the freedom fighters try to enlist in their cause.

But that's not all, because machinations abound. At the same time the rebels are plotting to overthrow King Serse, the King is making an alliance with Phoenicia, a kingdom to the east, whereby the Phoenicians would plunder Greek ships and then take refuge in the protected harbor of Rhodes. Phoenicia and Rhodes figure to split the booty. Then, while all of this is going on, the Phoenicians are plotting to take over Rhodes for themselves. Whew!

Calhoun, who had been in the movies for twenty-odd years before he made "Colossus," takes little of this business very seriously, even if the director does. He goes about his business, at least at first, with a wink and nod. Unfortunately, he doesn't make a very convincing sword-and-sandals hero, looking more like a Hollywood star hanging out at a Beverly Hills swimming pool than a Greek soldier in toga and robes. His romantic interest, Lea Massari as Diala, the daughter of the man who designed the colossus, also leaves much we might desire, as her character keeps changing practically from scene to scene.

The best parts of the show are the beautiful scenery, the coastlines of Spain, the lavish sets, the lush gardens, the statuary, and the ancient temples. The rest is pretty stock material for a swords-and-sandals flick: lots of crowds, trumpet calls, sword fights, and the like. There is even a scene in which the baddies torture a character by placing him inside a giant bell and ringing it. I hadn't seen that one since "The Mask of Fu Manchu" (1932) with Boris Karloff.

"The Colossus of Rhodes" sort of fits into WB's classification of a "cult camp classic," although it's not quite corny enough to really be as much fun as it could be. It's just kind of a common, run-of-the-mill adventure epic of its time, with barely enough action to satisfy a single viewing. But it is fun watching early Leone at work.

Video:
The Warner Bros. video engineers maintain most of the film's 2.35:1 theatrical aspect ratio, the screen dimensions measuring about 2.21:1 across my screen, given a small degree of overscanning. By the way, MGM, the producers of the film, call the film process SupertotalScope, a name that sounds like something from a movie parody. I suppose today we can count it a part of the movie's camp appeal.

The opening shots are extremely grainy, but don't despair; things get better. Most of the outdoor shots are only slightly grainy, and the indoor shots are quite clean. The colors are natural enough, too, but they can sometimes look a bit faded. I also noticed an occasional scene in which the colors flickered. The engineers anamorphically enhanced the film for widescreen TVs, but an ordinary bit rate renders definition only average.

Audio:
The Dolby Digital 1.0 monaural processing could have used a little more gain. You have to turn the volume up pretty high to get any sound out of this one, and even then things can be a bit muffled. It appears to me that WB's noise reduction sucked all the life out of the audio, leaving it little in the way of dynamics or frequency range. While it's true enough the soundtrack is smooth and quiet, it's also dull.

Extras:
The primary extra is an audio commentary by Leone biographer and writer about popular Italian films Christopher Frayling. He's filled with information that he seems eager to share, among which is the fact that according to Rory Calhoun, Leone originally offered him the part of the Man With No Name, but he turned it down, much to his regret. Much to our benefit, too. In addition, there's a non-anamorphic widescreen theatrical trailer.

The only other things of interest are twenty-nine scene selections, but no chapter insert; English as the only spoken language; English and French subtitles; and English captions for the hearing impaired. Whether you choose "The Colossus of Rhodes" on its own or in the box set, it comes in its own standard-edition keep case.

Parting Shots:
I can't say I cared much for "The Colossus of Rhodes" as a serious adventure film, although, as I say, it might be fun to watch in the way it's advertised--as a camp classic, even if it's not quite dumb enough. However, it is interesting to see where director Sergio Leone started and how this early film in his career influenced his future filmmaking. Beyond that, you're on your own.

Ratings

Video
6
Audio
5
Extras
4
Film Value
5