Agora
The sheer old-fashioned opulence of the sets, costumes and special effects for Agora prompts an obvious question.
Why did its financiers agree to produce a toga-clad saga about Hypatia, the 4th-Century female philosopher and astronomer who also taught mathematics at the Library of Alexandria during the period when Christianity was conquering the Roman Empire and fighting the Jews?
That question leads to others. Did the movie's Spanish producers really think it would be a block-bluster in the English-speaking world by letting its co-writer and director (Alejandro Amenabar) employ a host of international acting and creative talents, most of whom were English? Did they get an offer they couldn't refuse to go on location in Malta, thereby clearly employing hundreds of Maltese extras and craftsmen for a few months?
Amenabar reportedly conceived the project during a vacation on Malta, seeing modern relevance in the ancient multi-cultural tale of conflicts between religion and science, fundamentalism and tolerance, slavery and freedom, women's rights and men's desires. At first glance, like the financiers, one might foresee a wide-ranging audience-pulling bonanza in a saga combining an historical heroine, early Christianity, Jewry, men in togas and bloody riots.
However, second glances would have revealed a writer-director who hadn't clearly decided what dramatic highlights he wanted to showcase in his two-part slice of ancient history. The parts cover the periods before the destruction of the Library by rampaging Christians and the eventual death of Hypatia a year later.
It's hard to think of any actress who could have made the asexual Hypatia an engrossing lead character for two hours. Rachel Weicz tries valiantly to emit academic sagacity but the Mummy movies' Evy reincarnates herself during unintentionally comic set-pieces in which Hypatia uses a sand pit and torches to discover the elliptical curves of the heavens.
Her loyal young slave is also a portrayal of valiant character (Max Minghella getting few chances to be anything other than dour, as boy or man). Two of Hypatia's cleverest students are also tediously valiant and earnest, trying to save their former teacher from Bishop Cyril's invincible anti-pagan Christian mob. Orestes (Oscar Isaac, subsequently happier as Robin Hood's King John) becomes the Imperial Roman prefect after he adopts Christianity, while the future Bishop of Cyrene (Rupert Evans) is prissily Christian all the time.
Other secondary roles are monotonal bores too, and the screen comes to life only when there's carnage and stone-throwing to advance the plot. It's not surprising that, despite its Spanish-language version breaking box-office records and collecting many awards in Spain, the movie took more than a year to find a distributor in the US, and only for a very limited release.
It probably offends Christians and Jews alike, has no sex, and there's not enough gory violence to titillate teenagers. Even female astrophysicists will wish their historical beacon shone more brightly.
