Gotta love that man...

Rating: 9/10 (11 August 2005)

Despite the reviews, I recently bought the 'as seen in the cinema' version of Oliver Stone's 'Alexander'.
Um... I liked it. Can I say that? Doesn't matter... I've said it anyway, and I'll say it again, just in case no one believed me the first time: I liked it. At this point, I should perhaps mention that the opinions of 'critics' are not necessarily a guarantee of movie excellence. Witness 'Big Fish', which was loved by the critics. I gave up after about 30 minutes, knowing that there was something *much* better I could be doing...
The same goes for 'The Exorcist', 'Last Tango In Paris' and 'A Clockwork Orange'... in *my* opinion, which is, of course, as valid as Barry Norman's or Mark Kermode's. Well, isn't it...? You see, this is *precisely* why reviewing a film is such a problem. *I* love it. *You* hate it. Unless it's 'Toy Story' or 'It's A Wonderful Life'. So, to the matter in hand: Alexander III of Macedon, as seen through the eyes of Oliver Stone. Man or myth? Stone? Man. Alexander. Well, both... and probably mad to boot. *Anyone* with that much power and influence cannot *but* be a little touched come the end... however premature that end may be.
I recently read Mary Renault's 'Alexander' trilogy (is it disrespectful to refer to him as 'Alex'?), largely because of the brouhaha surrounding the film. A notable Alexander expert, Robin Lane Fox, was retained by Stone for the film, and I will definitely be reading *his* book at some point this year, as well as the biog by Peter Green. Like you care. Okay, I'm meant to be reviewing this film. So... I loved Colin Farrell's Alexander. I loved Jared Leto's Hephaestion. I loved the affection between them, as subtle as it was.
(At this point, a question: for goodness sake, why?? For a handful of meaningful looks, a caress, and two or three hugs Stone recut this film??)
Colin Farrell was, in my opinion, perfectly cast. I was reminded of Tom Hulce's portrayal of Mozart in 'Amadeus' as I watched Alexander's decline from wide-eyed wanna-be-conqueror of all he surveyed to shambling and drunken megalomaniac. I ended up believing that here was a man who could quite easily ramble on about conquering the whole world whilst Hephaestion (arguably the love of his life) was dying in agony of typhus in the same room.
And - by the blood of Aphrodite! - did I want to smack him. I wanted him to realise *much* earlier that his mother was a manipulative bitch. I wanted him to realise *much* earlier that his father was a drunken bully. And I wanted (how *desperately* I wanted) Hephaestion to tell Alexander he *loved* him, so that, even as deluded as he was, the King of Almost Everywhere At That Time would, perhaps, calm down a bit.
And what was not to love? Alexander was clever, sensitive, brave, and gorgeous. And he even smelled nice, apparently. And he was *nothing* if not an 'all or nothing' man. He wanted it all, and he wanted it NOW, and it was a brave man/woman or a fool who got in his way. Gotta love that about a man... Until even *he* starts to believe the myth. Power corrupts... and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Alexander *knew* this, but was seemingly unable to prevent it happening to him. He may well have been benevolent to those he captured and magnanimous in victory, but he was a man, and therefore was governed by the need to win. And, to his credit, he *did* win. He won every battle in which he fought except, and please forgive me the cliché, the battle with himself.
'A flame that burns too bright is soon burned out...' In wanting to please his mother, and being desperate to live up to his father's expectations of him, Alexander was burned out at 32. The beginning of the end is surely Hephaestion's death. By all accounts, Alexander was utterly devastated by this event so why (when all the documentary evidence says he *did*) does Oliver Stone not have the grief-stricken King hack off his hair?
The next thing we see is Alexander downing a quart (at least) of wine, having hallucinated his mother as Medusa before collapsing, his own demise following shortly afterwards. And, you know, I couldn't help but feel really sorry for him at the end. There must have been so much more he wanted to do but he was young (even in an age when 40 was elderly) and he was headstrong and naive and clearly didn't think beyond the next battle. He didn't make a will. He didn't have any final words ready for a scribe to take down. It is a measure of the ferocious nature of his life that his death was something he simply didn't prepare for. I don't actually think Alexander *expected* to die. But he did, in the way that James Dean and Marilyn Monroe and Buddy Holly died; violently, and much too soon.
Had he lived, Alexander the Great might have been the worst kind of tyrannical despot, responsible for the destruction of as many civilisations as he liberated. Instead, having 'pushed the envelope', journeyed to the edge of the known world, having seen what no man had seen before, he died young, and not peacefully. Of such events are heroes made...
Passionate, impulsive, stubborn... Alexander is a paradox. If Man lives this way, he risks death. But if not, has he lived at all..? There may well be omissions and errors in this film but that is the nature of films; you cannot include *everything*, no matter how much you might want to. There are, as this film shows all too clearly, limits to human endurance. Oliver Stone clearly admires Alexander the Great. Having seen this film, I admire them both.