Top Classical Films, in Anticipation of The Immortals: Part 2

Here, I continue my countdown of my ten favourite classics-related films (for #10-5, and for links to three trailers for the film The Immortals, see here), as I prepare mentally and emotionally to watch the film as soon as possible (tomorrow hopefully).

5. Ben Hur



Good reasons to like: I must confess that I haven't actually seen this preposterously long Heston-fest in one sitting from start to finish, but I have seen all 222 minutes of it at some point or another, and it did win 11 Oscars, so I couldn't really leave it out of the list. And besides, any film that involves racism, buxom Jewesses and cruelty to animals is alright in my book.

Silly reason to like: Like many films from the period, the scores of extras are pricelessly gormless.

4. 300



Good reasons to like: Despite widespread derision and pooh-poohing, this film is, to my mind, right on the money. Contrary to the claims of many critics, rather than imposing anachronistic norms and ideals onto ancient times, 300 follows the account of Herodotus fairly closely, even down to one of my favourite jokes in Greek literature, from Spartan quipster Dieneces (although in the film it's delivered by 'Stelios' and in the wrong context): having been told that the arrows of the Persian archers would block out the sun, he responds: "[Good.] Then we will fight in the shade." Beyond that, a stirring and entertaining retelling of a truly significant event in Western history - with no more embellishment, I would argue, than Herodotus' own account.

Silly reason to like: "Spartans, what is your profession?!" "A-oo! A-oo! A-oo!"

P.S. What happened to Gerard Butler?

3. Jason and the Argonauts



Good reasons to like: Another Harryhausen classic, but so much better than the original Clash of the Titans. Some of the special effects are breathtaking, and the mythology is hard to fault. One of the oldest and best stories from the Greek canon, it's not only the adventure that's well delivered: the scenes that focus on political intrigue, romantic eye-brow-waggling and philosophical introspection are every bit as riveting as the giant metal-man and the animated skeletons. Even if they weren't the last few words of that sentence justifies this film's place on the list.

Silly reason to like: On a personal note, when my Dad sat me down in front of this movie when I was a wee lad, it not only sparked an enduring interest in Classics, but also (and more significantly) Medea (Nancy Kovack) presented me with my first ever crush. Fact.

2. Gladiator



Good reasons to like: Now, on this one I don't think I'll have any disagreement - save for the fact, perhaps, that I haven't put it at number one. Ticks all the boxes, from direction to acting to score to cinematography (whatever that is), and ridiculously quotable. In fact, it's hard not to just list all of the brilliant lines from the film. Would you not be entertained?! (What we quote in blogs, echoes in eternity.)

Silly reason to like: The closest Russell Crowe has ever come to maintaining an accent throughout a film.

1. Hercules



Good reasons to like: Well, I mean, it's a Disney film, isn't it? And a cracker, at that. Maybe a bit heavy on the anachronism-based jokes, but solid family-fare from the greatest film-makers in History (this blog will talk a lot about Disney, just warning you now). Stellar performances from the always fantastic Danny DeVito and James Woods, consistently good songs, with consistently good lyrics set to consistently good music, and a wholesome message to boot. God, those people at Disney know what they're doing. And it's (sort of) got (some of) the Classics (almost) right.

Silly reason to like: At one point, Herc(ules) takes off a lion-skin and Phil(octetes) wipes his face with it - the skin in question belongs to Scar, from the Lion King. Cute.

(Epos) Nekerdes

Hello, welcome to the blog. I intend for this post to be a little microcosm of what I hope the blog will do, and the tone it will be in, although obviously at this stage it's all a bit primordial (and I've never done this before). So this will basically be an explanation of the name, and a sort of mission statement, and an exemplum.

The first thing I hope to do with this blog is fill in any gaps I find in the blogosphere. That is to say, when I google something and come up empty-handed, I'd like, as far as I am able, to provide the information that I couldn't find for the (highly theoretical) next person. At the time of writing this, according to Google, there is not one blog that has ever used the word "nekerdes" in any post - I did find one reference to "l'Hôpital Neker des Enfants Malades à Paris", but it's from quite an offensive article in quite an offensive French Catholic gazette, so I won't link to it here (also I don't know how to) (and I hate Catholics) (just kidding).

So now there is a blog that has not only used the phrase, but has enshrined it as a letterhead and founding principle.  This firstly means that I do not intend to "monetise" this blog or ever have ads on it.  (I can delete this later, right?)  But more broadly, I don't really intend to get any profit out of it, other than the opportunity to verbalise some of my own ideas and disseminate some others that I come across, hopefully being of some help to others.

The phrase epos nekerdes (ἔπος νηκερδὲς) is found in Homer's Odyssey at line 14.509, within a litotes (double negative - i.e. Odysseus' word isn't without profit): Eumaeus, the loyal swineherd, has just heard his disguised master Odysseus - whom he hasn't recognised - spin a completely truthless yarn about being a high-born Cretan, and then a short anecdote (still in character as a vagrant) about once being cold and being given a warm cloak.

This is one of my favourite books, a transitional midpoint in a poem so fixated (no pun intended?) on markers of transition.  It harks back to the much longer tale (whose truth is disputed by scholars, see Richardson (JSTOR) for a particularly sceptical and insightful analysis) Odysseus told to the Phaeacians, and harks forward to the tale he will tell to Penelope.  Aside from the broader motif of words and trickery that permeate the poem, the also ties into the theme of acquisitiveness and materialism: just before arriving at Eumaeus' hut (on the border of his own property), Odysseus stashed all of his Phaeacian gifts (13.362-371), which are almost as essential a component of his nostos as his own return is.

There is one other example of the word "nekerdes" in Homer (only one, which is arguably significant in itself, in a poem with so much repetition and reliance on epithets), and it comes in the Iliad, at line 17.469, just after the pathetic death of Patroclus.  It is the "nekerdea boulen" (νηκερδέα βουλὴν - unprofitable plan) of Automedon, the bereft charioteer of Achilles, in a scene so sad that even Zeus is moved (17.441-455) - the focus is on loneliness and isolation in the midst of war, the futility of mortal combat (despite Achilles' choice of a short life instead of great fame) and the irony of the wrangling that began the Iliad over prizes and loot, now that Achilles has lost something that is truly valuable to him.

Each use of the word is saturated with the ethos of its own poem, and each poem has a different understanding of what the word means - note that in the Odyssey it describes a "word" and in the Iliad it describes a "plan".  It's not terribly profound, but I quite like the dichotomy.

Another thing this blog will try to do is draw connections between the ancient world and more modern stuff.  When it's done well, as in the Richardson article above with the Hitchcock reference, I think it's great fun as well as often being enlightening and thought-provoking.  So, I'll be both attempting it and quoting more eminent people achieving it.

In that spirit, I leave you with this clip from the great Danny DeVito in Other People's Money - and make sure to look out for the Greek subtitles.