Batman and his trust sidekick, Fabio.
Age Of Treason (1993), speaking of cross-genre movies, is another member of this group, and it’s a member of another group, of which there are few members. This story has the odd quality of having virtually no really sympathetic characters – maybe the executive assistant, Niobe, is the exception – and, yet, partway through, my Arts Editor commented she didn’t like the characters, but still wanted to watch the movie.
So what are we crossing here? Think a rather soft version of the Roman corruption movies & TV series, like Rome (2005-2007), without the explicit violence and sex, that more or less being implied, paired with …
A private detective story.
Marcus Didius Falco is a private dick in old, corrupt Rome, up to his eyeballs in debt, and well aware that in this year, the year of four emperors, the attention of members of the higher classes can be deadly to someone like him. Just to remind him, the colossal statuary head of the caesar he hates the most, the late Nero, seems to be following him around, dragged by slaves, and upsetting his concentration even more than the wretched wine he consumes by the bottle.
So it doesn’t help when someone tries to pay for his services by giving him ownership of the gladiator Justus, a deadly monster in the arena, a bit of a naive dude outside of it. Falco has little use for him, but must drag him along as he investigates two new cases: the disappearance of his own nephew, and a case he doesn’t want but must take for the money, the disappearance of Cato, the brother of the wife of assistant to the emperor Vespasian, Pertinax. Her name is Helena.
Falco wonders if his nephew is dead, and goes to the valley of the dead, where all the dead usually end up. You know, being dead and all. He doesn’t find his nephew, but there is a corpse he wasn’t looking for there: Cato’s. Returning it to Helena is a risk he must take, resulting in an entanglement with Pertinax, and soon Falco is flailing about in fine private dick fashion, finding connections between fertility cults, ambitious men and women – and all of it centered on the Emperor Vespasian.
Justus becomes useful, if not quite as anticipated, and soon Vespasian finds himself in desperate straits, with Falco holding the pivot upon which his life balances.
The story’s a bit ponderous, weighted down with Falco narrating the story. On the other hand, there may be anachronisms galore here – including Falco’s Cockney (?) accent – but there’s a sense of authenticity brought on by an attention to detail: the reproduction of the frantic hubbub of a Rome ruled by ambitious men to whom the law is little more than a warning. The simple act of trimming a roof so that a statue in transit can pass, which I noticed out of the corner of my eye, suggested some real thoughtfulness.
And, speaking of statuary, it’s unusual that a monstrous marble head can produce a bit of comic relief in a movie in which bodies, past and future, are piling up so fast, and yet Nero’s sneering head manages to pull it off.
I’m certainly, certainly not going to recommend this movie, and yet I will admit to a certain fondness for it, in retrospect. It made me laugh in a few places, and appreciate the work of actors who I’d never heard of, and may never hear of again. You’re unlikely to just stumble across it, but if you do, give it a gander.
