Books to Movies: What Makes an Epic an Epic?

For "U" from A-Z List 2, I watched Exodus (author Leon Uris), starring Paul Newman, Eva Marie Saint, and Sal Mineo. I read the book years ago in high school. I didn't remember much of it except it was big and grand. 

So, if you are going to create an epic, how do you do it?

1. Put Herman Mankiewicz in charge of your photography.
 
Julius Caesar (1953), a filmed version of Shakespeare's play, is impressive. For one, Mankiewicz treated it like a film, not a play. The settings are not elaborate, but the characters are constantly moving as is the camera. The end result is impressive: a visual treat, not merely a thematic or splashy effects set.
 
Regarding Exodus, Otto Peminger strikes me as more pedestrian than Mankiewicz but still gifted. The film never feels "small," though a great deal of it involves conversations.
 
2. Special effects do matter--if they are part of the plot.
 
The destruction of the fort in Guns of Navarone is fantastic. And the director--who gives credit to his special effects team--intelligently has the guns themselves fall into the ocean. That's the whole point!
 
In Exodus, many of the effects occur at a distance, such as a hotel bombing. Likewise, the best special effect of Die Hard, the bombing of the lower floor by the hero, is impressive precisely because it happens so quickly and in part from the hero's perspective. The special effects are well-placed.
 
3. Cast does matter--to a point. 
 
In an epic, I think the audience will allow for less than good actors. However, I must admit that great actors help. Rex Harrison isn't even vaguely my idea of Caesar. But he's so good, what does it matter?
 
Elizabeth Taylor as Cleopatra is a slight disappointment until one compares her to all the other (fairly dreadful) Cleopatras out there, and then, she looks impressive in comparison!
 
Actually, the 2003 miniseries Julius Caesar, starring Jeremy Sisto, Christopher Noth, Christopher Walken and Richard Harris is quite good, precisely because the actors all match each other with Richard Harris chewing scenery up till his character's death in the first twenty minutes. 
 
From Exodus, Sal Mineo was rightfully nominated for his role as Dov while Eva Marie Saint produces one of those performances that often gets underappreciated. She is seemingly fragile yet tough without apology. She doesn't rush around shrieking, which is always appreciated.
 
4. Oddly enough: there are few obvious villains. 
 
Epics seem to rely on the grandeur and variation of human nature rather than easily identified villains. Even in Ten Commandments, the bigger-than-life villain, Yul Brynner's pharaoh, has a gentle side when he mourns his son. In Guns, the German soldiers who man the guns are ordinary youths, not sneering villains spouting evil propaganda.
 
Likewise, Exodus attempts to be as complicated as the book and the reality (not an easy task) so Sal Mineo's Dov is understandable even as he seems to be heading down the wrong path. And the efficient British soldiers who capture the terrorists are, in fact, doing their jobs.
 
4. Pacing
 
I've mentioned elsewhere that I find chase-chase-chase scenes irritating. On the other hand, the movie The Robe, based on the book, astonishes me because it leaves out such scenes, scenes that are in the book
 
A well-paced movie can handle even the "slow" bits without losing the viewer. In Guns, the scene in the marketplace during the wedding is gripping despite its relative quietness. 
 
With Exodus, I got somewhat distracted after the first 90 minutes (the same thing happens with me and musicals), but the first 90 minutes are fairly impressive since so much of that section of the film is quiet: no chases or bombs. The entire sequence on the boat moves at an impressive clip despite that sequence being principally about a blockade and a hunger strike.
 
5. A big issue is at stake.
 
Sort of. I think the perception that something bigger is at stake matters. Presumably, World War II would have been won whether or not the (fictional) guns of Navarone were destroyed (a character says as much at one point). The governments of ancient Rome and Israel have somewhat more obvious and long-lasting consequences. 
 
But a lone individual coming up against something far bigger than the individual (so the individual believes) partly defines the epic. Like Irving Stone's The Ecstasy and the Agony, a great deal of highly complex and historical context can be presented if it is delivered steadily through a single focus.
 

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