Cleopatra cost Twentieth Century Fox $44 million, by the studio’s own estimate. That may sound like the budget of one of those genre pictures that winds up going straight to streaming, but if we convert those 1963 dollars into current ones, it comes out to $480 million. The most expensive film ever made up to that point, it remained an industry symbol of near-parodically troubled production and grotesque cost inflation for decades. Like The Wizard of Oz, it failed to recoup its investment during its initial theatrical run, eventually turning a profit thanks only to re-releases and television rights sales. And yet, these six decades later, the investment seems to have proven sound, at least according to the video above from YouTube channel Wolfcrow, “Why Cleopatra Still Looks Like a Trillion Bucks.”
Unlike some infamously expensive movies, Cleopatra doesn’t leave you wondering where all the money went. Wolfcrow creator Sareesh Sudhakaran points out some of the myriad ways it manifests onscreen, from the 70-foot-long giant sphinx to the full-scale Alexandria harbor built on the coast to the Roman Forum set designed to be three times larger than the actual Roman Forum to the 65 or so outfits Elizabeth Taylor wears in the title role (to say nothing of the 26,000 other costumes made for all the other characters). Even the matte paintings and optical camera tricks still look convincing. The film’s production designers knew that nothing could be done by half measures, given that the 65mm Todd-AO stock used for filming would expose any flimsiness on the big screen.
Just as unforgiving was the ultra-wide aspect ratio used for the 1959 version of Ben-Hur, which necessitated painstaking labor on everything that went before the camera, but also a new approach to the composition of the shots themselves. Even those of us who’ve never seen the movie can call to mind images of its climactic chariot race, a sequence that earned its cultural impact the hard way.
It took five months to film on the largest set ever built at that time, with 1,500 extras in its stands. A few years later, Lawrence of Arabia took Hollywood grandeur up to the level of sublimity with its real desert landscapes. David Lean “was obsessed with scale and detail,” Sudhakaran explains. “He wanted the desert to be more than just a backdrop. He wanted it to be a character in the story,” which required meticulous planning of all the ways its natural light could possibly be used to dramatic effect.
Though Sudhakaran clearly has an interest in spectacles from the golden age of the Hollywood historical epics, he’s also made videos on lastingly impressive movies from other times and genres. When was the last time you sat down to enjoy the satirical urban techno-dystopia RoboCop, the comic-strip noir fantasia of Dick Tracy, or the flamboyant de-familiarized twenty-third century of The Fifth Element — or better yet, saw them properly screened at a revival house? When they came out, those films met with varying degrees of box-office success and critical praise, if not regarded as the absolute peak of cinematic sophistication. In our time, their ambition and craft look nothing short of astonishing, especially when we remember that they built their worlds in physical reality with real human beings, mostly analog techniques, and a whole lot of labor and imagination. Could even a trillion dollars buy the same results today?
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Based in Seoul, Colin Marshall writes and broadcasts on cities, language, and culture. He’s the author of the newsletter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Summarizing Korea) and Korean Newtro. Follow him on the social network formerly known as Twitter at @colinmarshall.
If you watched Lawrence of Arabia in a large screened theater, projected in 70mm, you did not see it, you experienced it.
I said the same about *The Exorcist*. When you realize that this isn’t some marvel of CGI, that there was a real 14-year-old girl involved, who had to be in makeup for hours for just a few minutes of film, her voice supplied by a woman who *broke sobriety* to sound right…Then this film, which could be whipped up by an indie studio these days for a low budget over a week…Yes, that’s impressive.
Of course, it took Los Alamos’s Cray to do asteroids right in the early Eighties, and the Foonly‑1 to do *Tron*…
…and I was able to do both their effects on a 68k Mac running system 8…
I appreciate the enthusiastic endorsement of these films, however, pronounce the names and certain other aspects correctly in order to pay proper respect to them and the vision behind the work.
Quite right Gary, it seems, and I have seen this many times in movie clips, that the subtitles are computer generated. Now of course they have this llm speech generator but it is just as bad.
If this is the sort of trivilaisation we ae tooexpect from ai and pay for it, then no thanks.
2001 is another of these movies. It’s filled with Cinerama visual grandeur and is a full-on assault on the senses. But as you noted re: The Fifth Element,” it also creates a kind of sensory numbness by showing the conquest of space as a branded experience — Pan Am spaceways, Hilton moon hotels, AT&T videophones, Howard Johnson’s coffee shops, etc.
As in Kubrick’s other movies (e.g., product labeling [Deutsche Grammaphon recordings on micro-cassette] in A Clockwork Orange, etc), it kind of throws viewers off-kilter and creates tension by making “weird” stuff happen amid familiar settings.