Near the end of El Cid, the hero's dead body, dressed in the purest white, and covered by shining gray armor, is set atop a horse and secured into place. The night before, knowing he would die before dawn, El Cid instructed his beloved wife, Chimene, to do this so that he might keep his promise to his army to lead them into battle the next day. As his white horse brings his body down among his troops, only the clop, clop, clopping sound of the moving hooves fills the ominous silence. Suddenly, unexpectedly, a shaft of direct sunlight catches El Cid's armor, and his body shines as if he has been touched by the hand of God. A magnificent burst of organ music swells up, shattering the silence and lifting the audience right out of their seats. As a narrator intones, "And thus the Cid rode out of the gates of history and into legend," the army routs the enemy and the white horse carries the dead hero away. The finale is breathtaking, giving viewers the illusion that they have seen a mortal man turn into a legend right before their eyes. It is this visual power not only that makes El Cid a great film, but also separates it from other, more literary, epics.

El Cid is one of the most famous of a group of films that began to appear around 1960 in the era of the all-star international blockbuster. In a last-ditch effort to stem the tide of television by giving audiences something they couldn't see at home on there small screens, the movies went BIG. The wide screen got wider. The music grew louder and more stereophonic. The huge sets were built to true scale. The stars came from everywhere and spoke different languages. And, inevitably, the budgets went to the moon and back. Casts of thousands were assembled in remote areas of Spain and Yugoslavia in order to thunder over the tundra toward the box office, and for a while it all worked. During this golden period of epic movie-making, no film was more beautifully crafted, directed, or performed,than the magnificent El Cid.

At the center of the story are the two characters, Rodrigo Diaz and his bride-to-be, Chimene, played by Charlton Heston and Sophia Loren. Heston and Loren are the king and queen of the epic movies, born to play BIG. By 1961, Heston was already a film axiom, having the roles of Moses, Ben-Hur, and Andrew Jackson (among others) behind him. He carried with him an accumulated message from those roles: "I am historic. I am heroic. I am Heston-on-screen." His physical size and his craggy good looks (handsome, but not pretty) gave him credibility. Loren, one of the most unique and stunning beauties of any era, could match time for dramatic image and size. Her eyes and lips seemed especially designed on the widescreen format, and her physical presence had a naturally regal quality. She wore any kind of bizarre costume easily, never dominated by furs and jewels, but rather offset by them. Both Heston and Loren could act, and both were able to play in modern dress as well as costume, on-screen strengths which stretched and filled out their roles of El Cid and Chimene. The two stars inhabit the epic historical movie as if it were their natural living space. They seem real in the roles that with lesser figures would become ludicrous.

In fact, El Cid avoids the ridiculous that is so often associated with large historical epics. Such movies have traditionally been a source of ridicule from most critics (and many audiences) who lampoon them as pseudo-history. The scripts frequently contain laughable attempts at recreating credible dialogue from the past. (This is referred to as the "Oh, Moses, you adorable fool" school of writing.) El Cid avoids this problem by having a minimum of dialogue, and by making little attempt to naturalize conversation. The characters often speak in a staid and simplified manner, with a cadence that strives for dignity rather than naturalism. Thus, El Cid never pretends it is anything but the telling of a heroic story. It does not try to bring its awesome characters down to some cozy level of ordinary behavior. We are not treated to scenes of Rodrigo and Chimene bustling around their little medieval kitchen, with Chimene chopping onions for her stew and Rodrigo bellowing out, "You've got a way with mutton, my girl!" Rather, El Cid keeps its characters large at all times, so that they are like figures on a historical tapestry, moving in a stately fashion through a destiny they cannot fully understand, but must carry out. Nevertheless the human side of their lives is believable, because what we are seeing is the loss of a normal life. Rodrigo Diaz, who becomes El Cid, is first seen as a real human being, but then observed as a man lifted out of the ordinary and transformed into a legend by circumstance. This transformation is not done through endless dialogue scenes, but rather through the film medium itself. The audience is not just told that Rodrigo becomes a legend. They are allowed to witness it happening.

El Cid is one of those films "like they don't make anymore." Besides the time and money involved, there's also the concept of heroism it presents. El Cid is dragged into his destiny, and he must sacrifice his personal life and love to the greater good of his country and his people. He does so, but not without crying out, "Am I not a man, too? May I not sometimes think of my wife? My children?" The idea of a self-sacrificing hero who will give his life to history seems today to be one of the most startling aspects of El Cid, which ranks among the greatest epic films ever made, a visual masterpiece.

--Jeanine Basinger

Jeanine Basinger is the Corwin-Fuller Professor of Film Studies at Wesleyan University. Her latest book, A Woman's View: How Hollywood Spoke to Women (1930-1960), has just been published in paperback by Wesleyan Press.

CAST & CREDITS

El Cid ... Charlton Heston

Chimene ... Sophia Loren

Count Ordonez ... Raf Vallone

Princess Urraca ... Genevieve Page

Prince Alfonso ... John Fraser

Prince Sancho ... Gary Raymond

Arias ... Hurd Hatfield

Fanez ... Massimo Serato

Ben Yussuf ... Herbert Lom

Al Kadir ... Frank Thring

Directed by Anthony Mann

Produced by Samuel Bronston

Associate producers Jaime Prades & Michael Waszynski

Screenplay by Philip Yordan, Fredric M. Frank, & Ben Barzman (uncredited)

Original story by Fredric M. Frank

Music by Miklos Rozsa

Director of photography Robert Krasker

Art directors, set decorators, production & costume designers Veniero Colasanti & John Moore

Film editor Robert Lawrence

Special effects Alex Weldon & Jack Erickson

Production managers Leon Chooluck & Guy Luongo

Script supervisor Pat Miller

ABOUT THE TRANSFER

El Cid is presented in its original aspect ratio of 2.35:1. This digital transfer was created from a 35mm low contrast print struck from a pristine duplicate negative. The audio tracks, including the Dolby Digital 5.1-channel mix, were created from the original magnetic four-track masters and optimized for home theater by Ted Hall/Pacific Ocean Post Sound, Santa Monica.

Index of Films View Items | Checkout Ordering Information | Criterion | Home Vision