While it looks like just another of those "sword and sandal" movies from the 1960s, this one has ambitions. Too bad. Instead of being a snappy, unpretentious piece of entertainment with beefcakey guys and bosomy babes racing their way through an action-filled plot, we get a long, slow, deliberate, almost thoughtful re-telling of the Damon and Pythias myth. Strange, you don't think you're going to miss the fire-breathing monster and the scantily-clad virgin chained to a rock and the bare-chested hero stretched between two chariots, but darn it, when these ingredients aren't present, you miss them!
The problems probably began with the choice of director, Curtis Bernhardt. He was fine for MGM's women's pictures such as "Beau Brummell" and "Interrupted Melody," but he's not well suited to this kind of material. Guy Williams isn't the right choice to play Damon, either. He's supposed to be one of those lovable rogue types such as Burt Lancaster or even Kirk Douglas used to play, but he just can't bring this off.
Don Burnett does better as Pythias. He plays the quiet, serious one and though the "mismatched buddies" formula usually works, it stumbles here because there simply isn't much chemistry between the two leads. And, curiously enough, neither of the two men gets to take his shirt off, not even in the climactic scene in which Damon is bound to a pillar for his impending execution. What's a sword-and-sandal movie without a generous helping of pecs?
The problems probably began with the choice of director, Curtis Bernhardt. He was fine for MGM's women's pictures such as "Beau Brummell" and "Interrupted Melody," but he's not well suited to this kind of material. Guy Williams isn't the right choice to play Damon, either. He's supposed to be one of those lovable rogue types such as Burt Lancaster or even Kirk Douglas used to play, but he just can't bring this off.
Don Burnett does better as Pythias. He plays the quiet, serious one and though the "mismatched buddies" formula usually works, it stumbles here because there simply isn't much chemistry between the two leads. And, curiously enough, neither of the two men gets to take his shirt off, not even in the climactic scene in which Damon is bound to a pillar for his impending execution. What's a sword-and-sandal movie without a generous helping of pecs?