There have been hundreds of movies and TV series set in the time of Rome, from the days of its kings to the fall of the city in 410 and then beyond into the Byzantine era. Some are clever, some are cool, and some are silly. But which are the best? I’ve sifted through the list and cast aside some truly great runners up, but here are my top five.
Coming in an #5 we have the classic BBC drama from 1976, I, Claudius.
Quite apart from highlights such as seeing Patrick Stewart with hair, the series brushes aside the previous swords and sandals era when the Roman upper class are shown bright and shining in gold and purple, being haughty and imperious. I, Claudius shows a different and more realistic ruling class in the days of the early empire, seedy, jealous, vicious and cruel, few characters among them with whom we can be properly sympathetic. Augustus is an authoritarian masquerading as a man of the people, Tiberius is seemingly noble but beneath the surface is angry and dark, Caligula is plainly mad as a balloon, and Nero should come with a public health warning. Perhaps only the stammering, club-footed Claudius, ably portrayed by the great Derek Jacobi, comes across as deserving of success. He is the Verbal Kint of these Usual Suspects, cleverer than anyone thinks. A survivor. Perhaps most impressive is that the author of I, Claudius, Robert Graves, had studied and translated Roman writers who covered the period, such as Suetonius, and so the story closely follows the historical written record. And one might watch the entire series just to see John Hurt camping it up as Caligula, especially his peculiar dance routine.
At #4 we have The Fall of the Roman Empire (1964).
A story that would later be remade as another film to feature in this list, this is the best of the epics from the swords and sandals era. Commodus, played by Christopher Plummer, lives up to his megalomaniac character from the ancient sources set against the noble Stephen Boyd and the sultry Sophia Loren. Best of all is Alec Guinness as the wise Marcus Aurelius, most impressively because he actually looks just like the emperor’s busts from two millennia ago! Guinness brings class to any role, and his Aurelius is legendary. While its remake – oh go on, it’s Gladiator – is perhaps a little more impressive visually, and a little more realistic-feeling, The Fall of the Roman Empire is actually far more historically accurate, while managing to remain entertaining and impressive. With a solid cast and some of the best scenes of any Roman drama, this epic brings ancient Rome to the screen better than most.
In 3rd place it’s a treat for everyone. Frankie Howerd’s classic comedy performance in Up Pompeii.
And here I can talk about the 1971 movie or the 1969 series, which are equally valuable and entertaining. With a slapstick approach reminiscent of the Carry On movies and deliberately rude and suggestive humor which at times pushes the boundaries of correctness, Up Pompeii is riotously funny from beginning to end. Howerd’s character, the slave Lurcio, is the voice of reason in a world of excess and stupidity. Witty and shrewd, the slave manages to play his masters and mistresses like a political genius. But the reason Up Pompeii makes the top five is neither for its humour, nor it’s brilliance, both still worthwhile points. The main reason I place it above for instance Rome (2005) or Cleopatra (1963) is that while it is outrageous and silly, it is a perfect reflection of Roman comedy. You see, unlike those dour Greeks and their tragedies, Romans loved to indulge in rude slapstick and toilet humor. This is made clear by the surviving graffiti in Pompeii: “The one who buggers a fire burns his penis” or “Secundus defecated here three times on one wall” for example. A man reading Apuleius’s “The Golden Ass” might not find it jarring to go from there to Up Pompeii.
Cassandra: “Pompeii’s citizens will befall the fate of the sinful men of Gomorrah.”
Lurcio: “Will they, indeed?”
Cassandra: “And Sodom”
Lurcio: “Ooh, I agree, the lot of them.”
Coming in at #2, we have the remake of the aforementioned Fall of the Roman Empire. There are things that can be said against Ridley Scott’s Gladiator (2000). The military uniforms and equipment are far from accurate and the story wildly diverges from recorded history, for example. But if you look beyond that, accuracy is sacrificed for atmosphere, and Gladiator produces the feel of Antonine Rome better than ever before or since.
It is the other side of The Fall of the Roman Empire’s coin. Quite simply, you feel as though you’re looking through a window onto real events. Part of this is the quality of the actors, for sure, and Russell Crowe’s Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, goes down as one of the screen’s most powerful heroes. Despite looking nothing like him, Richard Harris’s portrayal of Marcus Aurelius is also powerful, and in his last ever work, Oliver Reed provides the performance of his career as a former gladiator-turned-trainer Proximo.
But the prize for Gladiator absolutely has to go to Joaquin Phoenix for the megalomaniac emperor Commodus. Rarely has a screen villain been so dangerous, yet so fascinating. And while Christopher Plummer’s earlier portrayal might look physically closer, nothing can beat the quiet menace of Phoenix. It’s not for nothing that on a trip to the Roman amphitheatre in Carthage, I found myself turning in a slow circle in the centre and shouting “Are you not entertained?”
So what’s my #1?
What could be more entertaining than the bawdy humour of Up Pompeii, darker than I, Claudius, as impressive as Gladiator and as historical as Fall of the Roman Empire?
The answer comes in a little-known mini-series. In 1981, the novel The Antagonists was remade for screen under the title Masada.
It tells the tale of the culmination of the Roman-Jewish war in the early 70s AD. The Jewish revolt has largely been crushed and a small band of zealots, refusing to give in, takes refuge in the impressive and impregnable mountain fortress of Masada close to the Dead Sea. The commander of the Tenth Legion is given the task of finishing them, resulting in one of the most monumental and infamous sieges in the history of the world. Masada’s cast is a who’s who of 70s and 80s talent, from Anthony Quayle’s brilliant engineer to Timothy West’s careful emperor to David Warner’s nasty politician Falco. And despite playing his role well, Peter Strauss as the Jewish leader is knocked from the limelight by Peter O’Toole’s Flavius Silva, the legion’s commander.
O’Toole delivers the most powerful performance of a grizzled and tired Roman officer you could ever hope to see. He is realistic, sympathetic and sometimes darkly humorous. He is, basically, the quintessential Roman. The action in the film is beautifully portrayed and is much closer to the historical record than most screen outings. The story is pretty accurate to sources, the scenery phenomenal, and the film builds to a climax that overshadows anything ever produced on screen for the Roman era.
The ending is poignant, horrifying and powerful, and made all the more so by O’Toole’s reactions. I will not spoil that for you, but if you choose one thing to watch from this list, go watch Masada.
Now I’m off to trawl the lists to compile my top five most awful Roman movies!
Simon Turney is the co-author of Sons of Rome, with Gordon Doherty, which is available now.
Four Emperors. Two Friends. One Destiny.
As twilight descends on the 3rd century AD, the Roman Empire is but a shadow of its former self. Decades of usurping emperors, splinter kingdoms, and savage wars have left the people beleaguered, the armies weary and the future uncertain. And into this chaos Emperor Diocletian steps, reforming the succession to allow for not one emperor to rule the world, but four.
Meanwhile, two boys share a chance meeting in the great city of Treverorum as Diocletian’s dream is announced to the imperial court. Throughout the years that follow, they share heartbreak and glory as that dream sours and the empire endures an era of tyranny and dread. Their lives are inextricably linked, their destinies ever-converging as they rise through Rome’s savage stations, to the zenith of empire. For Constantine and Maxentius, the purple robes beckon.
