It is interesting that "epic" films -û defined by their large dramatic scope or requirements for an immense production budget -- have always been so well received by the theater-going public. The scope of this form of cinematic storytelling, usually encompassing many years and/or generations, and spread across a geography of immense distances and colorfully diverse cultures, is typically peopled with a dozen or so main characters, a doubling of secondary characters, and û- as Hollywood is fond of saying -û "a cast of thousands." The word "spectacle" is commonly associated with the Hollywood epic film, and rightly so: It is with the promise of extraordinary sights yet unseen and the telling a story that will "endure the ages" -û in your heart, if not your mind û- that millions of moviegoers drive miles to the nearest Cineplex, plunk down their precious, ever-increasing entertainment money, and gasp in amazement at the wonder of it all.
But imagine not having to spend any of your money, and that the spectacle is simply there for your very own perverse or diversionary pleasure. Imagine that you will see things you have never seen before, not projected on some huge white screen in a darkened theater, but instead in what we now define as "real time," right before your very eyes.
This was, indeed, the world of Roman people in ancient times when the emperor, so critically and desperately dependent on the favor of his subjects, would spare little expense to keep them happily entertained with huge and lavish parades to honor the empire's military might ("Cleopatra" - 1963), get them out for an exciting day at the chariot races ("Ben Hur" - 1959), or permit them to cheer on their favorite martial arts champions as they hacked and stabbed away at one another ("Gladiator" - 2000). There were actually three different genres of such entertainment held within the Roman Coliseum: the theatrical execution of foreigners, beast shows, and g...