Alexander

The Mote in Stone's Eye
by Ed Owens

Alexander dies in the opening frames, and so, pretty much, does the film which bears his name. Tediously recounted by the aging Ptolemy (Anthony Hopkins), the life and exploits of the near-mythic Greek leader are told in a series of flashbacks (with the occasional flashforward and flashback within a flashback thrown in for good measure), with the end result being a film that, like the man, is perhaps too ambitious for its own good.

Born to a brutish father (Val Kilmer, whose first onscreen appearance shows him trying to rape his wife) and an unstable mother (Angelina Jolie), Alexander (Colin Farrell) grows up in the very definition of a dysfunctional family, his only oasis of peace being his friend and strongly implied lover Hephaistion (Jared Leto, in one of the few roles that have not required him to become horribly disfigured by film's end). Exiled by his father at age 20, Alexander claims the throne when his father is murdered and begins a lengthy campaign across Asia that would stretch on for nearly a decade and result in an empire the size of which has never been rivaled.

Devoid of director Oliver Stone's signature style and chock full of his typical lack of subtlety, Alexander tests the limits of even the most patient viewer. The framing device of having Ptolemy retell the story is established in a lengthy early segment that stretches on for nearly ten minutes, much of which is spent following Ptolemy around a balcony garden while he drones on and on about why it's important to tell Alexander's story in the first place. Stone returns to the scenic garden frequently, often jarringly, and relies a bit too heavily on accompanying voiceover to tell us things we should have been shown.

Little of this would matter if what we were shown was actually of any interest, but the film vacillates between soap opera and military intrigue, achieving neither with any discernible measure of success. The filmmakers clearly want Alexander & Hephaistion to join the epic ranks of couples like Romeo & Juliet, Heathcliff & Cathy, or Luke & Laura, painting their relationship (as well as others) with broad, melodramatic strokes that fail to capture the little details that actually make such relationships interesting (in fact, even with the glistening pecs and male/male goo-goo eyes, Alexander is curiously shy about the actual relationship between its central protagonists). Alexander's other prowess, that of military commander, is far less on display. With only two battle scenes to judge by (both oddly staged, one with whole shots completely obscured by dust clouds and the other awash in the muted colors of a bad "Just Say No" commercial), Alexander comes off not so much great as lucky, guilty of some of the worst logistical misjudgments since Napoleon's Waterloo or Gilliam's Don Quixote.

As Alexander, Colin Farrell certainly strikes an imposing figure, but the effort to deliver Stone and company's horrendous dialogue is plainly visible on the actor's face (much has been made of Farrell's long locks, which fare better in comparison to the actor himself if for no other reason than they don't have to speak any lines). Every line is written as if it were intended to be a self-contained nugget and delivered as if the star were passing a stone. The decision to have Jolie play Olympias as borderline camp is as unfathomable as the decision to cast the actress in an R-rated film without giving her a nude scene. The rest of the cast fares better mostly because they have less to say: Kilmer, alternating swagger and stagger, overcomes the limitations by bellowing a lot, while Leto has mainly been reduced to a pec-tacular supporting role.

Ultimately, Stone's grip on the material seems tenuous at best, a disjointed, almost episodic retelling that reeks of important details left on the cutting room floor -- perhaps there was simply too much to tell. What we're left with is less a well-rounded character study than a 3-hour Cliffs Notes version, riddled with gaps that undermine whatever curiosity the viewer may have had and too long to sustain whatever interest the viewer may have developed. Like Antoine Fuqua's King Arthur, Oliver Stone's Alexander seeks to make the myth more real but ends up only making it dull.