Feature Editor's Introduction

The three featured articles in this issue treat films that are set in, or refer to, classical antiquity. This genre is popular with moviegoers but also one that some academicians find problematic, in part due to the genre's tendency to stretch, ignore, or mis-state historical facts. Just mentioning the term "classics" can also be controversial, invoking the best, and worst, of cultural pedagogy. The term instantly privileges Euro-centric patriarchy at the expense of other cultures as prominent and as important. Films like Troy, The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire, Ben-Hur, Gladiator, Spartacus, and Clash of the Titans, while providing an entertaining mix of heroism and adventure, still evince Hollywood's frequent disdain for historical truth.

One response to that attitude is to refuse to patronize films that flout historical accuracy. But that approach mostly misses the point of filmmaking, which, as many previous contributors to Film & History have reminded us, is not history. As the current editor-in-chief explains, "Film is a form of art (whether good, bad, or something in between), and to confuse it with history is insulting to historians and filmmakers alike. A more effective (and academically defensible) response would be for us to assess a film on its own terms first--how does it work? what logic or temperament does it follow? why do certain things happen at certain times or places inside its universe? what kinds of characters create or get created by those events?--and then, only after the film has been understood, would we do the important work of understanding historical connections or deviations, having gotten our 'history' from the historians and our 'art' from the artists."

Toward this important work, then, our first article, "From Here to Antiquity: Mythical Settings and Modern Sufferings in Contemporary Hollywood's Historical Epics," by Charles-Antoine Courcoux, addresses the discourse of hegemonic masculinity in the "sand and sword" subgenre of antiquity-based films, the principles of which are founded on a preponderance of flexed musculature, women in lesser roles that require either rescue and or dependence upon the male, and an acute propensity for glorifying and justifying war. The four popular films Courcoux critiques--Gladiator (2000), Troy (2004), Alexander (2004), and 300 (2007)--demonstrate how masculine privilege, across various artistic expressions, continues to be reinforced.

The second article, "The Idol Body: Stars, Statuary, and the Classical Epic," by Michael Williams, studies the influence of sculpture and painting upon the mise en scene of the classical/antiquity film, exploring, specifically, the "relationship between the male star body and the ancient world constructed through production design and star iconography." Using the 1925 Silent-Era extravaganza Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ as his canvas, Williams describes how the film's star, Ramon Novarro, was developed by MGM studios into what they called a "rising Apollo" through the use of the "contrapposto pose" of sculpture (a style of bodily representation that John Wayne more famously exploited afterward). Williams's scholarship here should encourage future study of films that have used sculptural tropes in the blocking and framing of actors.

Our third article is "Homer Meets the Coen Brothers: Memory as Artistic Pastiche in O Brother, Where Art Thou?" In it, Margaret Toscano examines the cinematic connections between history and memory, describing how O Brother, a film immersed in southern regional culture during the Great Depression, uses the literary constructs of classical antiquity in provocative tensions with modern allusions to The Wizard of Oz, blues guitarist Robert Johnson, hair-care products, The Three Stooges, and "old time" country music. Serving as our tour guide on this contemporary odyssey, Toscano walks us through this wonderfully complex maze of artistic rebellion, racial justice, and economic class warfare.

It is my hope that you will enjoy reading these articles as much as I have. My appreciation is extended in friendship to the authors (Charles, Michael, and Margaret) for their collegial spirit of cooperation and trust. Most especially, I want to acknowledge and thank Film & History editor Loren Baybrook, whose patience and mentoring during this process was invaluable.