The gospel according to Jung

Rating: Null/10 (6 May 2013)

This is excellent for what it is, but what is it?
Some will say it is an exciting blockbuster, others a Greek tragedy or heroic epic, or even cinematic opera with its focus on riveting but stagy drama and lush, harmonious cinemascope. It is of course all those things woven in one. The story is the same archetypal journey since Ulysses and Mahabharata—the hero is torn in the waking world of logical opposites, good and evil, duty to country against friendship and ambition, defeated with the divine trickery of a loose tile, thrust into hell to suffer oaring for some time, from where he emerges as a 'son' in splendid white clothes, and revitalized returns home to claim victory and love.
That is the standard reading anyway such as you'd see in those screen writing guidebooks, not much interesting.
It is at the same time a 'tale of the Christ', and this is a bit more fruitful in its spiritual dimension; the film does not end with material victory over the hated opponent, there is no peace to be found there. The idea is that the hero is properly a man when he learns to let go, forgive and accept transience. In this context, the journey is one of self realization not world redemption.
You will see this with some clarity when Ben-Hur symbolically visits his mother and sister in some horrible underworld, but he realizes he cannot see them and only listens as they wish him well. Parting from there, he chances upon the Sermon on the Mount—one of the three Magi of Bethlehem is there, a mentor who reveals that 'the child is now a man' (he is talking about Jesus) and we know this also applies on a second level to the protagonist.
But he won't listen, being perhaps too proud or harried to sit and reflect, which only prolongs his torment for a while more, that is until he realizes who the rabbi is and follows the passions from up close.
Oh the presentation is archaic and sermonizing, which is to say from the outside, symbolically presenting reflection but not making it the fabric so that you reflect.
What is of more interest to me is noting this bit on the cinematic dimension: the contrast between a placid theatricality in the Jesus portions, with some exciting perspectives in the ship and chariot race segments which captivate the eye.
The first is impersonal and removed from experience, imparting the awe of spectacle but not the spiritual essence, you will see for instance Calvary Hill as a stage in the distance. The latter exhibit a dynamism and placement of the eye inside the swirl of life, for instance the subjective shots of rowers looking out at the battle from ports in the hull of the galley or the powerful shots of dashing chariots as they hurl through the racetrack. There's cinematic energy here that sweeps you into what it is, instead of making you a spectator of opera.
What is interesting is that the filmmaker, the very talented Wyler, had the immersive means but rested his hand outside the action.