What happens when you strap two strapping young stars into a couple of tunics and togas, give them some swords and sandals, drop them in rural Scotland and add a 12A certificate? The Eagle – the latest Roman romp to tell the tale of the legendary Ninth Spanish Legion, who, along with their famed bronze standard, supposedly disappeared without a trace north of Hadrian’s Wall in 117AD. Coming mercurially hot on the manly leather skirt-tails of 2010’s Centurion, The Eagle is loosely based on the 1954 novel The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff, something of a perennial boys’ own adventure and already adapted by the BBC. This time around, we follow soldier Marcus Flavius Aquila and his Briton slave Esca, as they cross the northern border, leaving the security of the Roman Empire for the treacherous unknown, hunting for the titular emblem to reclaim Rome’s lost glory and the Aquila family name. Legions and legends, battles and Daddy-issues, GI Joe and Billy Elliot, will this Eagle fly high or leave you running for the nearest vomitorium?
It actually starts very well, with Channing Tatum’s Marcus starting a new career as the cautious commander of the dodgiest outpost south of the wall. He’s bearing the brunt of his family’s name, his company all stage-whispering his general father’s infamous loss of the Ninth, while he prays to the gods he won’t bring further shame to bear. However, after a hasty display of tactical prowess and derring-do when a frenzied surprise attack descends upon the settlement, he’s earned his men’s respect, and a wince-worthy knee injury. While on respite in uncle Donald Sutherland’s villa, Marcus persuades the crowd to save the life of captured Pict Esca, played by Jamie Bell, who in turn becomes enslaved by honour to the injured Roman. When Marcus hears rumours of the bronze standard’s northern whereabouts, the real story begins, as the role of master and slave swaps around, both warriors becoming reliant on each other for survival, as they faceoff with some Gaelic-garbling goons known as the – I kid you not – Seal People. Led by A Prophet’s Tahar Rahim, who frankly needs to listen to his “Leigh anois go curamach, ar do scruid phaipear, na teoracha agus na ceisteanna, a gabhann le cuid A” a bit better, these baddies are nameless and very expendable, which is just as well when all hell breaks loose.
Director Kevin MacDonald makes some unusual choices throughout, firstly presenting us with an All-American army of Romans, with Atlantic twangs and fart jokes. This is initially grating, considering the movie trope that all things classical be uttered in plummy tones and RADA timbres. Somewhere, it’s been written in stone in the pop-culture manual that period pieces go British, and although Tatum is undecidedly mid-Atlantic throughout (deliberate, perhaps?), all other Romans sound like Avunculus Samuel. MacDonald also knows how to use location to great effect, as well as edit battle scenes, using sound and light tricks to add to the atmosphere.
The performances are generally fine, with Tatum and Bell showing that as well as high-kicking the Cancan, they can kick ass to the Maximus. But their relationship is half-heartedly set up, with no real explanation for why angry self-declared Roman-hating slave Esca has any fondness for his Latin master. Bell’s made something of a b-line for the angry white male since his debut, usually having 55 minutes of screen time before he just has to dance/jump/fight it off. That is not to say that he is not a presence on screen, and he does lend Esca a sense of humanity, but it’s an underwritten role that doesn’t pack enough of a dramatic punch.
Which pretty much describes The Eagle itself; while the opening is very well told, with intense and exciting battle scenes that capture an aggressive energy and surprising violence given the film’s certificate, the second and third acts lose focus and leave too many unanswered questions. A hunt for a bronze standard that’s merely a standard bronze film.
3 Likes.
No comments:
Post a Comment