Excalibur (1981)
Co-scripted and directed by John Boorman, made after failing to get his intended very adult take on Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” films made into one movie, Excalibur offers up an ambitious, brutally violent take on the legend of King Arthur, based on Sir Thomas Malory’s “Le Morte d’Arthur”, along with several other un-credited sources (Boorman claimed that Malory was the “first hack writer,” and preferred the take of more modern writers covering the same material, especially Jessie Weston, if infused with notions of memories and dreams found in the works of psychologist Carl Jung). The occasional mix of blood and gore contrasts with the beaming, shiny, unblemished armor, and sometimes mixes with it, suggesting that good can always prevail against evil, but eventually it will only last so long before things devolve into rot and chaos once again. Beyond this, this sometimes anti-realist film is, appropriately, also about the coming end to humankind’s view of the world as a place of mystery and magic, and of the direct connection with nature, in favor of living a life of reason and science above primitivism and the belief in the supernatural, forced dominion of the land (the notion that Arthur and the land are one is a recurring theme), and separation from that land through the building of great castles and citadels.
Excalibur tells the tale of Arthur from the circumstances of his conception, all the way to the circumstances of his death, selectively choosing its eras to depict, concentrating thematically more on the myth than the man. Longtime stage actor Nigel Terry stars as Arthur from his teenage years until an old man (he was 35 at the time, making it a stretch both ways), while Nicol Williamson plays his sometimes ally, the seemingly ageless sorcerer named Merlin, who we see make kings out of at least two men, Arthur’s father Uther Pendragon, and then Arthur himself. The lower-class Arthur ascends to the throne straight away when he pulls the titular fabled sword out of the giant stone that his father had shoved into it to keep it from enemy hands. Once the King of all of Britain, Arthur enjoys a time of peace and prosperity unknown in the history of the blood-soaked land, especially after the formation of the Round Table of his most trusted knights, but, as they say, every rise must eventually fall.
Though many people know the Arthurian legend for the quest for the Grail (depicted less ‘Holy’ here, removed from its Christian context), this is limited to a part of the film, offering up a bizarre and ultimately engrossing odyssey of the fight for the soul of Camelot from forces trying to take it down. Though the narrative does move forward in time, much is left to the imagination as the years progress, as we jump into the action having to intuit where everyone is at that point in their lives, and have to use conjecture to ascertain why they may have changed in their appearance and personality since the last time we saw them. Some of this is symptomatic of a troubled production, some of this the by-product of Boorman’s muscular style. Nevertheless, the film still works as a sometimes haunting, sometimes surreal take on Arthurian legend (though not nearly as odd as Boorman’s Zardoz), making lasting visual impressions that linger far longer in the mind than straightforward story elements could, like a two-hour recounting of a hallucination that one had in the distant, hazily remembered past.
The main story arc of the film could be seen as Arthur’s tale, though one could argue that the backbone of the film is in following the story of the titular enchanted sword. The origin of the sword, and its reason to exist, are left to the imagination, with Boorman choosing to sidestep trying to explain the unexplainable, opting to use the mystery of sorcery as just part of this strange world in which magicians and mortals co-mingle. The script is nearly devoid of humor, and yet the film plays out as so self-seriously and dramatically heightened about even the small things, it works as a form of uncanny comedy. The acting is stagy, perhaps intentionally so, as Boorman cast primarily stage actors to bring out the characters as over-the-top in demeanor and grandiose in traits, just this side of Shakespearean, but without the poetic flourishes.
The bulk of the conflict within the film stems from the repercussions of Arthur’s father, Uther, who made a pact with the wizard Merlin in order to seduce a rival’s wife and conceive of the future king. In witness is a young Morgana, a blend of several of Malory’s characters infused into Arthur’s half-sister, who grows up to be quite a sorceress herself, and one who is bound to seek revenge on the destruction of her own family years before by taking down the illegitimate kingdom of Arthur. Just as important to the story is the courtship of Arthur with the lovely Lady Guenevere, as well as the self-conflict regarding the passions that bubble up from the noble knight Lancelot for the king’s beloved wife.
As a conflicting, uneasy marriage of class and crass, Excalibur can be a polarizing movie in terms of how well it plays. Some viewers will love its visual punch, while others will find some of those visual repugnant. Some will enjoy the dreamlike way in which the story is depicted, without a lick of care for narrative logic, while others will find it slim pickings not befitting one of the greatest stories over the last several centuries. It builds up the legend, while simultaneously deconstructing it, preferring to see the journey of Arthur from child to old king as a strange but profound fantasy full of pleasurable treasures and painful regrets, avoiding the internal psychology of the characters in favor of ostentatiously lustful yearnings and outlandishly violent resolutions.
The lavishly depicted, Oscar-nominated cinematography from Alex Thomson is striking to behold, filmed, often with great difficulty, in the hilly, rural areas of Ireland, and leaves the most lasting of impressions many years later. In combination with the alternately lush and powerful score from Trevor Jones, connecting operatic German classical works such as Carl Orff (especially the oft-used movie trailer staple, ‘O Fortuna’ from Carmina Burana) and bits of Richard Wagner, Excalibur is a treat for eyes and ears above and beyond the rip-roaring but sketchily presented adventure underneath. Although not mounted with the kind of studio backing usually befitting of the genre, it looks and feels like a grandiose epic, with all of the benefits and some of the flaws that such an undertaking generally necessitates, with an alluring presentation that resonates like an unusual and striking fever dream.
Qwipster’s rating: A-
MPAA Rated: R for strong, bloody violence, nudity, sexuality, and language (also released in an edited PG version)
Running Time: 140 min.
Cast: Nigel Terry, Nicol Williamson, Helen Mirren, Nicholas Clay, Liam Neeson, Cherie Lunghi, Patrick Stewart, Paul Geoffrey, Gabriel Byrne, Robert Addie, Ciaran Hinds
Director: John Boorman
Screenplay: Rospo Pallenberg, John Boorman (based on “Le Morte d’Arthur” by Thomas Malory)