Copyright 25 August 1954 by Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. New York opening at the Roxy, 24 August 1954. U.S. release: September 1954. U.K. release: December 1954. Australian release: 24 February 1955. Sydney opening at the Regent. 12,514 feet. 140 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: Egypt, 1300 B.C. An abandoned baby is adopted by a physician. As a young man he follows his foster-father's profession but falls into bad company.
NOTES: Color cinematographer Leon Shamroy was nominated for an Oscar but lost to Milton Krasner ("Three Coins in the Fountain"). Edmund Purdom replaced Marlon Brando in the title part at virtually a moment's notice. "Although many stars were considered, when Brando walked out, Purdom was one of the few actors tested for the role. Although this test was made 10 days before the picture started it was not until 4 days later that Purdom learned he had the role. He was vacationing in Acapulco. By the time he arrived back in Hollywood he had only 2 days for preparation — and these days were taken up with wardrobe and make-up tests and fittings." — Unsigned fan article on Purdom, written 1954.
COMMENT: Fox's 15th CinemaScope feature was reasonably successful at the box office and returned a modest profit despite both its inflated negative cost and almost universal panning from professional critics (including cast member Peter Ustinov). Actually the movie has not only improved with age but it is one of the few early CinemaScope movies that actually play more effectively on TV than they ever did in a theatre.
When The Egyptian was first released, we all thought it a ponderous, heavy-handed, laborious, tediously-paced spectacle. Laughably inept dialogue seriously compromised a cast of straight-faced but wearisome players, of whom Peter Ustinov's tongue-in-cheek Kaptah provided the only welcome diversion. Ustinov managed to wring some mild fun out of the thinnest of threadbare material. At the other end of the scale, Bella Darvi was undoubtedly the chief offender. With an accent as thick as Continental cheese and mannerisms straight out of a gaslight melodrama, you wondered what Zanuck was thinking of when he cast her in such a major role. Closely contesting Miss Darvi for worst performance are Victor Mature, Edmund Purdom and Michael Wilding. With his blatant over- acting and hammy eye-rolling, Mature eventually wins out, but not before Purdom and Wilding with their fixed, poker faces, expressionless delivery and frozen under-emphasis, have given him a good run. Jean Simmons is likewise a dead loss in a goody two-shoes role in which she seems hopelessly miscast. Still she does put up a game try. That she proves so inept is more the fault of the dialogue and characterisation — to be precise the tediousness and triteness of the former and the complete lack of detail in the latter. Henry Daniell does equally little with his part as the high priest, but John Carradine (always reliable even in a bloated epic like this one) contributes a winning cameo as a grave-robber.
Some of the scenes of spectacle are admittedly effective (the chariot running over the camera during the massacre; the house of the dead; Mature's triumphal entry into the throne room), though you can pick out more than a few shots that were obviously lensed by a second unit with normal, non-anamorphic equipment, the results being rather clumsily blown up to CinemaScope size in the lab.
Technically, "The Egyptian" does not stand up terribly well. For the most part Curtiz has directed the picture like a conventional three- by-four. Most of the action is steadfastly centered in the middle of the screen. What's more there are no reverse angles. The cuts are from two-shots to close-ups, but the camera's point of view always remains the same. There is very little camera movement. Obviously Curtiz was heavily influenced by beliefs on the techniques of using CinemaScope formulated by Henry Koster whilst shooting "The Robe". The wide screen gave sufficient dramatic scope in itself, Koster wrote. A virtually stationary camera was most effective. Panning, tracking and dolly shots should be avoided. Care should also be exercised to minimize sudden jarring cuts in the film editing. It was best that the whole movie be lensed from one angle as if it were being presented on a stage with the camera permanently fixed in the auditorium. (Koster modified these views considerably by the time he got around to directing "The Virgin Queen").
Leon Shamroy's photography suffers from the graininess and lack of sharpness in the early CinemaScope lenses, though these defects are less apparent on TV. The music, representing a unique collaboration between two great composers, is not half as interesting as most single works of either. Where the film does hold some fascinating interest is in its sets. The props and artifacts of ancient Egypt do hold a certain intriguing appeal all on their own. It's always hypnotic to see them brought to life — even in as indifferent a manner as here.
Oddly enough, "The Egyptian" is rare among the early CinemaScope crop in that it comes across more effectively and actually looks better on TV. True, there are moments when CinemaScope's images cannot be squeezed successfully within the confines of the TV screen, but for the most part Curtiz has so centered all his action in the middle of the frame that the compositions look not only dramatically tighter but atmospherically more effective.
SYNOPSIS: Egypt, 1300 B.C. An abandoned baby is adopted by a physician. As a young man he follows his foster-father's profession but falls into bad company.
NOTES: Color cinematographer Leon Shamroy was nominated for an Oscar but lost to Milton Krasner ("Three Coins in the Fountain"). Edmund Purdom replaced Marlon Brando in the title part at virtually a moment's notice. "Although many stars were considered, when Brando walked out, Purdom was one of the few actors tested for the role. Although this test was made 10 days before the picture started it was not until 4 days later that Purdom learned he had the role. He was vacationing in Acapulco. By the time he arrived back in Hollywood he had only 2 days for preparation — and these days were taken up with wardrobe and make-up tests and fittings." — Unsigned fan article on Purdom, written 1954.
COMMENT: Fox's 15th CinemaScope feature was reasonably successful at the box office and returned a modest profit despite both its inflated negative cost and almost universal panning from professional critics (including cast member Peter Ustinov). Actually the movie has not only improved with age but it is one of the few early CinemaScope movies that actually play more effectively on TV than they ever did in a theatre.
When The Egyptian was first released, we all thought it a ponderous, heavy-handed, laborious, tediously-paced spectacle. Laughably inept dialogue seriously compromised a cast of straight-faced but wearisome players, of whom Peter Ustinov's tongue-in-cheek Kaptah provided the only welcome diversion. Ustinov managed to wring some mild fun out of the thinnest of threadbare material. At the other end of the scale, Bella Darvi was undoubtedly the chief offender. With an accent as thick as Continental cheese and mannerisms straight out of a gaslight melodrama, you wondered what Zanuck was thinking of when he cast her in such a major role. Closely contesting Miss Darvi for worst performance are Victor Mature, Edmund Purdom and Michael Wilding. With his blatant over- acting and hammy eye-rolling, Mature eventually wins out, but not before Purdom and Wilding with their fixed, poker faces, expressionless delivery and frozen under-emphasis, have given him a good run. Jean Simmons is likewise a dead loss in a goody two-shoes role in which she seems hopelessly miscast. Still she does put up a game try. That she proves so inept is more the fault of the dialogue and characterisation — to be precise the tediousness and triteness of the former and the complete lack of detail in the latter. Henry Daniell does equally little with his part as the high priest, but John Carradine (always reliable even in a bloated epic like this one) contributes a winning cameo as a grave-robber.
Some of the scenes of spectacle are admittedly effective (the chariot running over the camera during the massacre; the house of the dead; Mature's triumphal entry into the throne room), though you can pick out more than a few shots that were obviously lensed by a second unit with normal, non-anamorphic equipment, the results being rather clumsily blown up to CinemaScope size in the lab.
Technically, "The Egyptian" does not stand up terribly well. For the most part Curtiz has directed the picture like a conventional three- by-four. Most of the action is steadfastly centered in the middle of the screen. What's more there are no reverse angles. The cuts are from two-shots to close-ups, but the camera's point of view always remains the same. There is very little camera movement. Obviously Curtiz was heavily influenced by beliefs on the techniques of using CinemaScope formulated by Henry Koster whilst shooting "The Robe". The wide screen gave sufficient dramatic scope in itself, Koster wrote. A virtually stationary camera was most effective. Panning, tracking and dolly shots should be avoided. Care should also be exercised to minimize sudden jarring cuts in the film editing. It was best that the whole movie be lensed from one angle as if it were being presented on a stage with the camera permanently fixed in the auditorium. (Koster modified these views considerably by the time he got around to directing "The Virgin Queen").
Leon Shamroy's photography suffers from the graininess and lack of sharpness in the early CinemaScope lenses, though these defects are less apparent on TV. The music, representing a unique collaboration between two great composers, is not half as interesting as most single works of either. Where the film does hold some fascinating interest is in its sets. The props and artifacts of ancient Egypt do hold a certain intriguing appeal all on their own. It's always hypnotic to see them brought to life — even in as indifferent a manner as here.
Oddly enough, "The Egyptian" is rare among the early CinemaScope crop in that it comes across more effectively and actually looks better on TV. True, there are moments when CinemaScope's images cannot be squeezed successfully within the confines of the TV screen, but for the most part Curtiz has so centered all his action in the middle of the frame that the compositions look not only dramatically tighter but atmospherically more effective.