Kenneth Haigh | Through the Shattered Lens

“Joan Collins is THE BITCH” announced the opening credits of the 1979 film, The Bitch. Seriously, how can you not love a film that opens that way?

Joan Collins returns of Fonatine Khaled, the character that she previously played in The Stud. Once again based on a novel by Jackie Collins, The Bitch follow Fontaine as she adjusts to life as a freshly divorced woman. Though she received a good deal of money in the divorce and she has her own personal fortune as well, Fontaine is struggling to maintain her extravagant lifestyle. A new disco has opened and is taking away the crowds that used to populate her club. She’s running out of cash and soon, she might not even be able to fly first class!

It’s on an airplane that she meets Nico (Michael Colby, who is not particularly charismatic but still isn’t quite as dull as Oliver Tobias was in The Stud). In an amusing in-joke, the movie that they watch on the plane is The Stud. Nico says that he can’t decide if the movie is funnier with the sound or without. “It’s not meant to by funny,” Fontaine replies. Nico claims to be a wealthy Italian businessman, which immediately gets Fontaine’s attention. Of course, Nico’s lying. He’s actually a con artist and a jewel thief. Fontaine figures that out when Nico tries to use her to smuggle a diamond through customs. Fontaine is angered but she’s intrigued.

Nico is in debt to the Mafia. The head of the British mob is a man named … and I’m not making this up …. Thrush Feathers (Ian Hendry). Thrush Feathers demands that Nico cause a horse to lose an upcoming race. The horse belongs to Fontaine’s friends from the first film, Vanessa (Sue Lloyd) and Mark Grant (Mark Burns). Thrush Feathers also offers to help Fontaine keep her club open but his help comes with a price. Whatever the price is, could it possibly be worse than being named Thrush Feathers? Seriously, in what world is someone with that name going to take over a London crime syndicate? How do you go from the Kray Brothers to Thrush Feathers?

Anyway, the plot really isn’t that important. There’s a lot of double crosses and manipulation as Fontaine lives up to the title of the film. The plot is really just an excuse to tease the viewer with visions of the decadent rich. The clothes are expensive. The mansions are ornate. The conversations are always arch and full of double entendres. This film is less about how the rich live and more about how middle class like to imagine the rich live. It’s also about sex, though none of it quite reaches the lunatic abandon of The Stud’s swimming pool orgy scene. The important thing is that whole thing is scored to a disco beat.

As with The Stud, it’s Joan Collins who holds the film together, giving a fierce and uninhibited performance in which she gleefully embraces the melodrama and delivers her lines with just enough attitude to let the viewer know that she’s in on the joke. “Bitch” may have been meant as an insult but, as played by Joan Collins, Fontaine wears the title as a badge of honor. She understands what had to be done to survive in a male-dominated world and she makes no apologies for it. Even more importantly, she knows that once you fly first class, you can never go back.

The Bitch is not necessarily good but it is definitely fun in its sordid way.

While watching the 1963 best picture nominee, Cleopatra, I had many thoughts. The film lasts over 4 hours so I had a lot of time to think.

For instance, I often found myself impressed by the sheer size of the production. I marveled at the recreation of ancient Greece and Rome. I loved looking at the ornate costumes. I loved feeling as if I was taking a look back at what Rome may have actually looked like at the height of the Roman Empire. Making it all the more impressive was that this film was made in the days before CGI. When the film’s Romans walked through the streets of Rome, they weren’t just actors standing in front of a green screen. They were walking down real streets and surrounded by real buildings. It reminded me of the awe and wonder that I felt when I was in Italy and I was visiting the ruins of ancient Rome.

(I don’t know if any of the cast accidentally flashed everyone like I did when I visited during Pompeii on a windy day but considering how short some of the skirts on the men were, it wouldn’t surprise me if they did!)

And, as I marveled at the recreation of Rome, I also thought to myself, “How long is this freaking movie?” Because, seriously, Cleopatra is an amazingly long movie. It’s not just the film is over four hours long. It’s that the film feels even longer. Gone With The Wind, The Godfathers Part One and Part Two, Once Upon A Time In America; these are all long films but, because they’re so great, you never find yourself checking the time while watching. Cleopatra is the opposite of that. Cleopatra is a film that, at its slowest, will make you very much aware of how many seconds are in a minute.

I found myself marveling at the lack of chemistry between Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. If anything, this is the most shocking thing about Cleopatra. If Cleopatra is famous for anything, it’s famous for being the film where Elizabeth Taylor (cast in the role of Cleopatra) first met Richard Burton (who was playing Mark Antony). Their affair dominated the gossip headlines. (If TMZ and YouTube had been around back then, there would be daily videos of Richard Burton punching out paparazzi.) Cleopatra was the first of many big-budgeted, overproduced films that Taylor and Burton co-starred in.

(Then again, they also starred in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, a film that is almost the exact opposite of Cleopatra.)

In the role of Mark Antony, Burton spends most of the film looking absolutely miserable. Elizabeth Taylor, meanwhile, seems to be having a lot more fun. It’s almost as if she understood what Cleopatra was going to become so she went out of her way to give the type of over-the-top performance that the film deserved. The same can also be said about Rex Harrison, who plays Julius Caesar and who, perhaps because he appears to have shared her attitude, actually does have some chemistry with Taylor.

Actually, if anyone gives a truly great performance in Cleopatra, it’s Roddy McDowall. McDowall plays the future Emperor Augustus with a mesmerizing intensity. Again, McDowall’s performance is not exactly subtle but Cleopatra is not a film that demands subtlety.

As the film finally neared its end, I found myself wondering how Joseph L. Mankiewicz went from directing two close to perfect films, A Letter To Three Wives and All About Eve, to directing this. Even more amazing, Mankiewicz had previously directed one of the best Roman Empire films ever, 1953’s Julius Caesar. (When compared to Cleopatra, the low-key and thoughtful Julius Caesar appears to have been filmed on an entirely different planet.) Well, in Mankiewicz’s defense, he was not the original director. He was brought in to replace Rouben Mamoulian, who had previously attempted to make the film with Joan Collins, Ben-Hur‘s Stephen Boyd, and Peter Finch. When Mankiewicz was brought in, the cast was replaced with Taylor, Burton, and Harrison. Between the expensive stars, the troubled production, and all of the offscreen romantic melodrama, Mankiewicz probably did the best that he could.

Today, Cleopatra is mostly interesting as an example of a film from the “Only Gigantic Productions Will Save Us From Television!” era of Hollywood filmmaking. Cleopatra started out as a $2,000,000 production and ended up costing $31,000,000. It was the number one film at the 1963 box office and it still nearly bankrupted 20th Century Fox. While the film does have some kitsch appeal, the critics hated it and it’s easy to see why.

And yes, it was nominated for best picture of the year, a tribute to the size of the production and the determination of 20th Century Fox to get something — anything — in return for their money.

Cleopatra is a bit of a chore to sit through but it can be fun if you’re in a snarky mood. It’ll do until the inevitable Angelina Jolie remake comes along.