Ben-Hur (1959)

#6 in my ranking of William Wyler’s filmography.

#16 in my ranking of Best Picture winners at the Oscars.

Another MOVIE, like Gone with the Wind. Another big, earnest, incredibly well made, really well acted, and often beautiful to look at film that the Academy decided to award with Best Picture. Ben-Hur is just one of those movies that makes sense for that. It’s not just great, but it’s a huge entertainment that uses huge sets to tell a compelling story, an adaptation of the novel by General Lew Wallace. It’s also the second adaptation of the book, the first being a very good film on its own, a silent adventure with some of the most dangerous and deadly major stunts put on film. William Wyler’s film never feels quite that unprofessionally irresponsible, but the stunts are no less dangerous, especially in that famous chariot race. Around it, though, is a story of a man finding relief from vengeance through Jesus, making it the most obviously Christian film to have ever been awarded so highly by the film industry.

Judah Ben-Hur (Charlton Heston) is a prince of Judea and childhood friend to Messala (Stephen Boyd), a Roman commander freshly returned from the empire’s central city to help pave the way for the new governor. The two share their bond of friendship over the years, but the rigors of adulthood threaten that friendship from the start. Judea is an occupied territory, and the people do not appreciate the oppression of Roman forces. Rebellions are forming and being put down, and Messala wants Judah’s help to put them down, asking him to betray his own people. Judah’s own people are manifested by his mother Miriam (Martha Scott) and his sister Tirzah (Cathy O’Donnell) as well as his slave Simonides (Sam Jaffe) and Simonides’ daughter Esther (Haya Harareet). The house is one of love, with a strong familial bond made all the stronger when Judah sees Esther for the first time in years, being asked to give his permission for her to marry another man, and it’s obvious that they love each other. Messala won’t let Judah’s betrayal of their friendship and the traitorous attitude towards Rome go unpunished, though. With the zealotry of an acolyte, he quickly turns on Judah when, upon the arrival of the governor, a tile slips from Judah’s roof, hitting the governor, and giving Messala the perfect excuse to take out his anger on Judah and his family. He arrests mother and daughter while sending Judah off to work the galleys as a slave, an effective death sentence.

This opening is an intelligent distillation of the microcosm view of the conflict (the family level) that integrates the macrocosmic view at the same time (the fight between Judea and Rome). The screenwriting history of the film is tortuous and unclear, with several uncredited screenwriters (including Gore Vidal) having worked on it, but it seems like most of that credit should go to the credited screenwriter, Karl Tunberg, as well as Christopher Fry, uncredited but reportedly the final writer. It also allows for scenes to breathe, giving characters enough room to operate within the action to feel alive and more than just vessels for exposition. The conflict between Judah and Messala feels like it comes from a place of pain, pride, and religious zealotry that a more abrupt approach wouldn’t have sold as well. It also gives us time with all of Judah’s family to get to know them, allowing for a lasting impression necessary since most of them disappear for a very large chunk of the movie, and that chunk follows Judah from galley slave to prized chariot racer.

The stuff in the galley is probably the second most famous stuff in the film, and it’s a harrowing bit of cinema (it’s also apparently very historically inaccurate since men couldn’t row a ship like that for too long, or they’d all die). It’s Judah at his lowest, a slave destined to die but surviving on hate for three years until the arrival of Quintus Arrius (Jack Hawkins), a Consul given the task of fighting pirates on the Mediterranean. The hate in Judah’s eyes, a hate spreading from just Messala to all of Rome, catches Arrius’ attention, creating a certain antagonistic bond between them. After a battle that leaves the two shipwrecked, with Judah saving the consul’s life, the bond becomes more familial and fatherly, leading to my only real complaint with the film. Sure, this movie is nearly four hours long (in the roadshow presentation), but I would have liked a small sequence showing them bond on the way to or in Rome, especially around the horses that Judah pilots to several victories, all that happen offscreen in one fell swoop when the film skips from their rescue on the ocean to Arrius’ public adoption of Judah. Sure, it’s not the central relationship in the film, and what’s done is enough to make the point, but in a film that really likes to spend its time with characters to help them breath and feel real, this is an oversight. Maybe they filmed something and it got cut?

Anyway, Judah, newly adopted and wealthy as a Roman citizen and son of a consul, returns to Judea to pursue his vengeance against Messala as well as to find his mother and sister. On the way, he meets an old man, Balthasar (Finlay Currie), who speaks of a teacher he saw in a manger as a baby. He also meets Sheik Ilderim (Hugh Griffith), an purveyor of chariot horses who is unsatisfied with his driver, and when Judah offers up advice on a whim about how he should arrange the horses in front of the conveyance, Ilderim knows he has the driver he needs. With the news that Messala will race against him in the near future, Judah accepts Ilderim’s offer of piloting his chariot in the next race.

Now, the chariot race. Wow, is that a great sequence. Wyler designed and helped edit it, but he left filming to the second unit and stunt coordinator. The result is an expensive, dangerous, and thrilling sequence with clear stakes, clear emotion, and clear action. It’s just a race in a circle nine times, but chariots get torn apart, the placement of racers change, and the emotional connection between Judah and Messala remains constantly the focus. There were stunt performers involved, but it’s amazing how often you can see clearly that it’s Heston or Boyd in the chariots as they go at speed. I don’t think there’s a single instance of rear-projection in the while thing, and it creates the physical reality that combines with the sense of danger that really makes it one of the best action sequences ever filmed.

The race ends, Judah gets his vengeance, but the movie has about forty minutes left. His heart is empty. Violence has bred only more violence, and it’s made all the worse when he discovers the fate of his family: his mother and sister contracted leprosy and live in a leper colony until they will die. What can Judah do? There’s no cure for leprosy. His family is dying, and despite the protestations of Esther, who did not marry but still shares her love with Judah, and his house is a collapsing tomb to a happier time that will never come back. He is determined to make Rome itself pay for what it did not only to his family, but to his childhood friend, Messala. That’s when Jesus steps in.

I really like the approach Wyler decided to take in filming Jesus. He’s essentially a background character, appearing early on Judah’s road to the galleys, offering him water, and then never seeing his face even as Judah and Esther come upon his Sermon on the Mount and even witness his crucifixion. There’s a great moment late when Judah gets the chance to offer Jesus the same solace on a road to presumed death that Jesus had offered him, and its done with such small moves in this larger sequence. The resolution, that lifts the hatred from Judah’s heart and rewards the faith of those closest to him, is surprisingly emotional, especially when you consider how intellectualized the whole idea of love versus violence had been for much of the film. It’s the culmination of the ideas, and it happens through character, and it is wonderful.

Wyler was a great filmmaker, perhaps one of the greatest, and one of the things that I consistently notice is his visual acumen. He’s rarely trying to import great meaning in his shot selection (there are moments that do it, like when Judah goes to Pontius Pilate in order to give up his adoption with the symbols of Rome towering over the small Judah), but mostly it’s just about finding aesthetically pleasing images. There’s a moment late where Judah stands over Messala’s dying body. It’s a shot with five people in it, all at different depths to the camera, and all have their faces visible, giving the frame this wonderfully composed look that doesn’t feel unnatural. It just forms as people move across the screen. That’s not an accident and requires precise planning, but it happens again and again and again across Wyler’s work. He made that happen, and I really appreciate it.

Ben-Hur is just one of those great, big movies that has stood the test of time remarkably well. In the hands of Wyler, he brings genuine earnestness to the affair while balancing ideas without getting preachy and integrating everything in a beautiful film filled with grand sets and marvelous performances.

Rating: 4/4