“Justice and charity… men will never accept such a philosophy.” – Diana (played by Jean Simmons)
Henry Koster’s The Robe, released in 1953 is an interesting film that offers comment on America’s socio-political climate a half-century after its release. Incorporated in its opening sequence is the depiction of dirty street peddlers using acts of persuasion to influence potential customers. Such peevish coaxing skills can be likened to the street-corner proprietor-of-goods as witnessed in major cities circa 2001.
Other such socially reflexive themes concern themselves with matters of friendship. “You don’t have to be so formal… where we’re going we’ll both need friends,” says Marcellus Gallio, to his slave Demetrius. “Friends can’t be bought, sir… even for three thousand pieces of gold,” remarks the mulish bondsman. Other reflected social issues that transcend time are ideas of love, “Junia knew I was in love with you, and I laughed… women are wise in these matters.” Ideas on gender take issue as well, “… even my wife had an idea.” But perhaps Judas’ troubled words carry with them the highest degree of social veracity. When asked why Jesus’ men betrayed him, he conjectures, “Because men are weak. Because they’re cursed with envy and avarice. Because they can dream of truth, but cannot live with it.” Among the interesting qualities The Robe has to offer, its sense of social transcendence ranks among the worthiest, alongside the film’s demystification of religion, and decentralization of its protagonists.
By demystification, I mean to highlight the film’s understated quality when dealing with the crucifixion of Christ, and all Christian matters leading up to that moment. The first mention of this subject does not occur until 23-minutes into the story, a glaring contrast to heavy-handed propaganda pieces, like the 1932 version of Scarface. The creative team of Koster and screenwriters Albert Maltz and Phillip Dunn (working from Lloyd C. Douglas’ novel) could have easily inserted a prelude focusing on the teachings of Jesus and such, but wisely chose to be subtle. The audience never even sees the face of Christ, but only long and medium shots from behind as he’s carried on the cross. The viewer never learns of Jesus’ teachings until they present themselves naturally, organically embedded in the film’s narrative. Unfortunately, the film does breakdown into a Christian propaganda piece – but a subtle one at that.
The Robe decentralizes its protagonists by avoiding manipulative shot choice and composition; the star isn’t the centrepiece of each frame. Here, we see Marcellus, played by the top-billed star, Richard Burton, situated in a negligible position amongst a pack of disciples – mixed in, with no special treatment for being the standout celebrity.
The Robe is an infectious tale that follows the lives of Marcellus, Demetrius, Diana, Caligula, and surrounding Romans and Jews as they come to terms with what it means to live a spiritually bankrupt life, based on the tenets that power and respect are gained through force, oppression, and mercilessness – and the weight such practices bear on the souls involved.
The film falters when it hits its dramatic points, which aren’t set up effectively. The stakes of many scenes need to be raised in an effort to heighten the level of intrigue, wonder, suspense… and ultimately, entertainment value. Heightening this weakness is the uneven reality of the set designs (many are great achievements, while others stand out as inferior), and characters that are not fully explored.
Still, The Robe is an important piece of American cinema in deconstructing the religious influence that developed the cultural make-up of 1950s American society, by illustrating the arbitrariness of Christianity’s social reign.
An important piece of American cinema in deconstructing the religious influence that developed the cultural make-up of 1950s American society.- Jon Lap
