The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965) is a movie of beautiful images: desert vistas highlight those ships of the sands, camels, traveling in a moonlit night, conveying the iconic three kings about their duties; great stone cities, every bit of rough, decaying mortar embodying the future of the Roman Empire, dust caking the feet of their inhabitants; river flats holding in their many-fingered hands the men and women who must wash the clothing of their families and listen to the teachings and prophecies of the God-men.
And the latter abound, as this is the story of Jesus Christ, played by a splendid Max von Sydow, an actor who does more with his eyes than some actors do with their entire careers. The cast is studded with contemporary and future stars, from the legendary John Wayne, as a Roman centurion with a single line of dialog, to David McCallum, soon to star in The Man from U.N.C.L.E., as Judas Iscariot, to Telly Savalas as Pilate.
Individual performances are often superb, as characters, mostly male, are given the time and panoramas to inhabit their roles. Some might find the performances leaden, but I thought them subtle and nuanced. Judas is a man clearly tormented by his choices, if they are in fact choices for him to make; Jesus’ human side comes through clearly as Sydow’s performances exhibits his self-doubts; Claude Rains, in his final performance, as King Herod, a King being shivered to splinters by the forces of change swirling about him, is impressive in his brief screen time. Dialog is delivered mostly at leisure, giving the audience time to contemplate the meaning and the motivations; there is no patter, nor the hurried spittle we often see in today’s cinema offerings.
And yet, for all this, the movie is somewhat leaden. The beautiful delivery of the dialog shelters, but does not obscure, that much of it is cribbed from the Bible – and depends on the knowledge of the viewer to hang together. For the non-believer there’s little resonance. Indeed, perhaps the most compelling are the yells of “Crucify him!” vs “Free him!” from the crowd when Pilate offers the mob the choice of which criminal to free.
Nor is the story particularly compelling. What motivates the despair which would cause the people to embrace a faith? I watched this movie over the course of at least a month, maybe two, so it was merely a casual thing to do; I didn’t find I had to watch it, unlike, say (and I recognize the incongruity) Pacific Rim, which must be finished once it is started.
And, not to push disbelief too far, but a comparison may prove the point. In the latter movie, we’re faced with situations we can see ourselves in, even if we’re not precisely facing monsters, with overwhelming odds, despair, and foolishness of others all playing their part. It’s not as easy to learn from The Greatest Story Every Told. Those of us who fall under the common definition of sane have no illusion that we’ll ever be the Son of God, so the decisions he makes – if they are not part of some predestined plan – have little applicability to us. Peter cowers from recognition; Judas betrays the one he loves for silver. The situations are not those to learn from, and the story, I fear, is opaque.
And why so few people of color? Sidney Poitier puts in a fine five minutes – but it’s the Middle East, dammit! Not Minnesota in January!
