An old Claudius, currently the Emperor, is used as a framing device throughout most of I, Claudius, writing his memoirs and the history of his family. It starts with Augustus (Brian Blessed), an emperor that has become caught up in history, not risen to it nobly. When it’s decided that he should be made a god, one wonders why. Augustus is friendly, good-natured at times, but ultimately a blustery, bumbling sort. Nothing of him justifies that. Livia sees that and is the power behind him. She’s the one who actually controls what goes on. She is comfortable in her position, in her marriage to Augustus, and won’t let anything happen to hobble her power. Claudius remains in the background, watches, stutters, stammers, and everyone labels him lame, sick, a fool worth no time and attention. Little do they know, with him being what they are not, he is the one writing his memoirs. Where are they?
After episode 2, called “Waiting in the Wings,” the well-deserved reputation of I, Claudius rises, and the series becomes a game of “Waiting for Caligula,” or, rather, “Waiting for John Hurt,” as Caligula is played by a young actor in episode 5. When Hurt appears, he is totally without reservation, completely fearless in his portrayal. There is no going back! In episode 6, “Queen of Heaven,” Livia, an old woman, asks her great-grandson Caligula (finally played by John Hurt), “You are a monster, aren’t you?” Well, yes. He slept with his own sisters at a young age, for one. There’s still more to come, including a terrible, terrifying reign as emperor. Hurt devours it all, relishing every moment. To a lesser extent, the American equivalent of this would be Wesley Snipes in Demolition Man, who clearly had so much fun playing Simon Phoenix. But Hurt tones down Caligula when necessary, to make the menace more effective, while still displaying a sneer and a clear contempt for others.
Even with other great actors like Patrick Stewart as Sejanus, Emperor Tiberius’s eyes and ears, and John Rhys-Davies as Macro, who looks out for Caligula, they’re not the only reasons I, Claudius is just as effective today as it was when it aired on the BBC in 1976. Look at that set design, the props, the actors used as slaves, those moments in which the empire and those in the outer circle indulge in various pleasures. There is an entire, effective world here that would be hard to produce today to the same success.
And listen to the language, the sounds of the syllables, the cadencies, the emphases. Listen to the life of this Roman man lead into the telling of other lives, other hopes, other ambitions, other dreams, other schemes. Listen, listen, listen. That is the key to I, Claudius, hearing the English language as you have never heard it before, with great love for it and sensuality in the words. Every spoken word has dramatic weight and is most effective in episode 6 when Lollia describes how Emperor Tiberius mercilessly violated her after she agreed to prostitute herself in place of her daughter. What happens afterward is given more weight and makes the heart race with a shock because of the words.
In this “35th Anniversary Edition” DVD set, Acorn Media has reached the exalted level of Criterion Collection standards. On the first disc are extended original versions of the first and second episodes as aired on PBS, as well as the first episode as originally aired on the BBC. And then I, Claudius is important enough to merit a bonus disc that begins with the 74-minute I, Claudius: A Television Epic, whose first shot is the giant soundstage on which the series was filmed, followed by interviews with many of the actors and director Herbert Wise. That’s all the documentary is and what I wish making-of documentaries were like here. Just let those involved speak. Don’t make them gush on and on about how much they enjoyed working with this person and that person. If they did, they’ll mention it, as they do here. It feels genuine, and there are plenty of great moments, including trouble during the first week of production in which the actors weren’t sure how to play their roles. Wise says that writer Jack Pulman, to try to help, said to the cast, “I couldn’t write it until I thought of the Mafia.” Brian Blessed says that Wise told him to just be himself, “full of flannel,” to not try to act like an emperor. Others around him will make him the emperor. Every single insight is interesting and builds a complete picture of the production.
Then there’s 71 minutes of The Epic That Never Was, a black-and-white documentary about a 1937 film adaptation starring Charles Laughton as Claudius that was abandoned. Laughton could not get into the role and there was no help from director Josef von Sternberg. It should show Disney that they have nothing to be afraid of with the documentary The Sweatbox, which was made by Xingu Films, the production company of Trudie Styler, Sting’s wife, and which I reviewed at the beginning of my tenure with Film Threat after promising to mail the VHS tape back to Xingu Films. It was about the troubled production of an animated musical called Kingdom of the Sun that was eventually abandoned and repurposed into The Emperor’s New Groove. I suppose no corporation likes to admit failure, which is likely why I can’t find it on YouTube now after it was posted a few weeks ago. But if there are any humans remaining at Disney, any in power, they should see The Epic That Never Was and realize that their creative failure is distant history. At best, it makes the Walt Disney Company more interesting. Creativity is not meant to look perfect all the time, like one could wave a wand and have pixie dust fall that would make everything work from the start. It takes time and effort and it’s hard and sometimes it doesn’t work. Here is proof. Kingdom of the Sun didn’t work, and so they moved on. So did Charles Laughton from I, Claudius. It’s painful at the time, but it’s nothing to be afraid of.
In 2010, Derek Jacobi’s friend Mark Olshaker interviewed him about his life and career, and an excerpt featuring I, Claudius is included here. There’s also 36 minutes of actors and Herbert Wise talking about their favorite scenes, which are then run in full. And as if all this wasn’t enough, there’s a 6-page booklet with an article about what is fact and what is fiction in I, Claudius, as well as a family tree of the emperors.
This is quite possibly Acorn Media’s finest release, which is at first difficult to believe, considering the riches it continually brings from the United Kingdom. It’s because of the accumulation of those riches that I, Claudius exists in this form. Much has been learned from past releases, what to keep doing, what to improve, but no matter what they decide to do, there is always a great love for what they do, which is apparent throughout these five discs, even enough to label each disc in Roman numerals. This is exactly what DVDs are meant to be, and I, Claudius will continue to live on grandly because of it.
