User Reviews

Having recently picked up the well known BBC miniseries of I, Claudius I was surprised to see this little documentary as a special feature. To describe it as a DVD special feature is an understatement of the highest order. The Epic That Never was is an amazing look at the first film attempt to make I, Claudius that reveals a lost film in all its splendor.

Actor Dirk Bogarde hosts this collection of surviving footage, retrospective interviews and footage of the studio where it was filmed as it looked in the mid-1960's. The interviews reveal the thoughts and remembrances of several cast and crew members looking nearly three decades back on the doomed production with some interesting thoughts. All the while Bogarde gives linking narration and commentary on the surviving footage. Yet while all this is interesting it isn't the highlight of the documentary.

The highlight of this documentary is of course the footage itself. The footage reveals a somewhat lavish production that could rival any of the epic films of the late 1930's. In particular is the performance of Charles Laughton in the title role especially in his speech in front of the Roman senate. If there is any shame to be found in the fact that the 1937 version of I, Claudius it is that most of the world never got the chance to see Laughton's performance and what influence it might have had.

The Epic That Never Was is a fine documentary. With its interviews and narration it is better then many of the similar documentaries found on many dvds today. More importantly the footage reveals what could possibly have been a classic. For anyone who enjoyed the BBC miniseries or is curious to see how that tale might have looked go no further.

This is one of the most famous documentaries about one of the most legendary aborted projects in film history. The reasons for the latter were two-fold: definitively by way of a car accident in which leading lady Merle Oberon was injured but, firstly, due to star Charles Laughton's difficulty in "finding the man". There is some heart-breaking evidence here of out-takes in which he flubs his lines and demands pardon of his colleagues: in hindsight, having played so many historical characters – including another Roman Emperor, Nero, in Cecil B. De Mille's THE SIGN OF THE CROSS [1932] – and figures of authority throughout the decade (constituting some of the greatest performances on record), one can hardly fault him for failing to strike the necessary balance at first...since he later reportedly drew inspiration from then-recent British events i.e. the abdication of King Edward VIII! With respect to Claudius' physical liabilities, too, Laughton would be vindicated a hundred times over in a couple of years' time with his magnificently poignant Quasimodo in the definitive screen rendition of THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME.

Anyway, luckily for us, this documentary presents all the surviving footage (which is quite brilliant and, frankly, ahead of its time – making the loss all the more regrettable). The film was intended as producer Alexander Korda's ultimate achievement, for which he even imported one of Hollywood's most idiosyncratic directors – Josef von Sternberg. Unfortunately, at this juncture, the latter is played up as the villain of the piece (perhaps because his arrogance is well-documented) – being taken to task especially when he blames the cancellation of the film on actors' 'tantrums'. Oberon herself does not mention this fact, but seems to accept the project's dissolution as a "godsend". However, another principal actor, Emlyn Williams (who, by the way, makes for a marvelously wily Caligula) ridicules his non-existent aristocratic pretensions...while costume designer John Armstrong berates Sternberg over his deliberate disregard for authenticity! I do feel that double standards were applied in this case – as many a star's foibles have been tolerated over the years but a director, apparently, cannot avail of that luxury (especially when vast sums of money are involved)!

The documentary (occasionally accompanied by the powerful strains of Richard Strauss' "Thus Spake Zarathustra" a year before it was to be immortalized thanks to Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY!) is hosted by Dirk Bogarde who, interestingly enough, narrates of how he had gone on the set as a curious teen. Also on hand to recount the debacle are actress Dame Flora Robson (playing much older than her age as Claudius' mother), the director's script-girl (who, at least, praises Sternberg for his editorial sense), Robert Graves – the author of the two novels on which the script were based, but whose own adaptation had been rejected! – and, of course, Sternberg himself who believes the results would have been great but, in retrospect, having already made his mark on the cinema, his career thereafter would presumably not have been much different (that said, it did go kind of downhill from there – with the 1940s being especially slack for him – though it took another 16 years to fully peter out!). For the record, Korda, Laughton and supporting actor Robert Newton had all passed on by the time this documentary came to be made.

Eventually, the novels would be turned into a massive but celebrated TV series in 1976 with Derek Jacobi as Claudius and John Hurt as Caligula. I own it on 2 DVDs, but the 11-hour length was daunting and I could not possibly fit it in my current Sternberg schedule (as was the case with THE ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE [1964] during the Luis Bunuel retrospective). Maybe next month will be different, seeing how the usually epic-centered Easter period is just around the corner...

I, Claudius, the story of the stuttering, limping cousin and successor to the cruel Emperor Caligula, was never released. Filming was halted when Merle Oberon was in a terrible car accident, and for thirty years, the footage was locked away. Finally, as there was such a great mystery as to why the film was never finished, a documentary was released in 1965: I, Claudius: The Epic That Never Was.

Dirk Bogarde hosted the documentary, and Emlyn Williams, Merle Oberson, Flora Robson, director Josef von Sternberg, and writer Robert Graves all gave their own interpretations of why the filming was stopped and never resumed. Alas, Charles Laughton and Robert Newton had since passed away. It's a very interesting hour, and all the original footage is included for the audience's viewing pleasure. Outtakes and misspoken lines are shown, as well as entire completed scenes, adding up to almost thirty minutes of footage from I, Claudius.

Charles Laughton plays the title character, and he delivers what would have been one of the most memorable screen monologues, had it been released into theaters. He's so very pitiful as Claudius, and it's truly heartbreaking to see the other characters make fun of his flaws. I happen to like Charles Laughton and think he's very talented, so it was easy for me to be engrossed by his performance. Nothing's sadder than his pout; and when he's ridiculed, he never gets angry or has attitude, making him all the much more endearing.

If you like Charles Laughton, definitely give this documentary a watch. You'll get to see a good semi-performance, and you'll be educated in film history.

This is a good, entertaining and revealing document of the abandonment in mid-production of a film spectacle, begun in England in the mid-1930s, but which happily still saw the light of day thanks to the preservation of several reels of assembled footage in mint condition. Those involved in the production still alive by 1964 are interviewed with their slightly divergent points of view, and they are a colorful lot: Von Sternberg, Oberon, Emlyn Williams, Flora Robson. Dirk Bogarde is impeccable as the host-narrator who observes of Charles Laughton, immediately following a stunning monologue, that he was "kissed with genius." And so he was.

A look at never completed version of I, Claudius. This is a wonderful look at film making in the golden age, both as it was and as memory has made it. We get to see the stars and crew talk about a project that got away and how it still haunts them.

This is one of the best films on films ever made, partly because it shows us what might have been a treasure, but also because it does what what movies do best, create an illusion of something that doesn't really exist. With a film like this, made decades after events, the mind is left to ponder what the aborted film might have been. From the few scraps of actual footage we expand it out to a completed film that might have been one of the greatest films of all time. Of course it all could have gone south as well, but the fun is in what might have been....

10 out of 10

A Personal request- would someone please put this out on DVD by itself, its stupid to make us buy the BBC miniseries just to be able to see this.

Although I adore the wonderful British mini-series, "I, Claudius", I had no idea that decades earlier there was a movie version in the works...a movie project that never was completed. I am actually thankful for that, as a film never could have adequately captured Robert Graves' two novels about the early Roman emperors....plus, perhaps if the film HAD been made, the mini-series never would have been made.

In this made for television documentary, the great British actor Dirk Bogarde not only talks about this aborted film but introduces many surviving members of the cast to talk about the film (including, among others, Josef von Sternberg, Merle Oberon, Flora Robson, Robert Graves and Emlyn Williams). Additionally, much of the existing scenes from the film are shown. And, through seeing them, you can only assume that the makers of the mini-series must have watched these clips and used them in writing this....some are nearly word-for-word...and some aren't even close (such as Messalina's reaction when she meets Claudius).

This is a marvelous film...but one that folks who never saw the mini-series or read the books would not enjoy. But for fans, it is an absolute must-see and an extremely interesting television documentary.

Dirk Bogarde narrates this documentary about Korda's attempt to film Robert Graves' I, CLAUDIUS, with Charles Laughton Merle Oberon, Emlyn Williams, and Flora Robson.

John Ford put the old Hollywood aphorism that "when the truth and legend conflict, print the legend," and golly, this is a clear case of printing the legend. That fabulous fabulist Josef von Sternberg, is on hand to talk about his contributions; Miss Oberon explains that she was Korda's biggest star at the time, and he had the idea to produce an A picture which no one else in Britain was interested in doing; of course it was all done so she could play Messalina. When Robert Graves shows up to explain that he wrote the books to raise his mortgage and nothing more, I was confronted with the idea that this spinner of fantasies was the only reliable witness to events.