BECKET

REVIEWED BY CHARITY BISHOP

Our rating: 3 out of 5

Because of: partial nudity, thematic elements

Rated:

Interestingly enough, Becket is considered one of the greatest Christian films of all time. It was not meant as such, but it does draw a powerful line between morality and ambition through the roles and ideals of its main characters, which are based on the historical figures of Henry II and Thomas Becket of England. 

There is nothing more that King Henry II (Peter O'Toole) loves more than a wench. Blonde or brunette, dark-haired, whether she speaks English or not is hardly important, he merely likes to take possession of them. The assistant and conspirator in these crimes of passion is his good friend and semi-servant, Becket (Richard Burton), a Saxon forced to endure the Norman occupation of his nation. Despite their cultural differences and the violence he should hold against the newfound monarchy, Becket is content to be of use and remains one of the king's most trusted companions. When it is learned that the Church is refusing to send funds to assist the king's forces in the north, believing their faithfulness should remain greater to God than common man, Becket is appointed by King Henry to take charge of the matter.

Through a series of mishaps that sorely tests their relationship to the extreme, Becket proves himself enough to be given the clerical robes of the Archbishop of Canterbury, for the king believes no one will serve his purposes better. But the transformation is immediate, for Becket suddenly determines that he must take this role seriously and it is not long before he is defending the Church more than the monarchy. What unfolds thereafter is a violent and emotional end to their friendship, with ultimately devastating consequences. The film is not historically accurate, but is entertaining.

The best part is O'Toole, who delivers his lines with such enthusiasm that most of them become absolutely hysterical one-liners. There is a certain amount of humor written in the screenplay, but it's the mannerisms and insulting glances that accompany them that make them all the more memorable. Burton is always good but here seems to have a little bit of difficulty making a believable transition between Becket the loyal servant and Becket the reformed priest whose convictions suddenly mean more to him than the power the king is offering. There is no remarkable overnight transformation and yet he changes almost immediately, as though he has seen the light, but the audience has not seen it with him. This will lead some to assume that he was always faithful, and others to find his sudden devotion to God unlikely. Even I had a little trouble believing it, although to be fair we are shown early on that Becket doesn't participate in any of the king's drunken womanizing.

The film's first quarter is pretty much devoted to our understanding of the king as a shameless philanderer. His first scene has him leaping out a window to evade a girl's infuriated parents when he is discovered in bed with her. After he and Becket take refuge in the woods, he takes a carnal interest in the carpenter's daughter (Becket finds him examining her leg by lifting up her skirt several inches). Hoping to spare her that ordeal, Becket asks if he might not have her instead, intending to leave her in the woods. Henry suspects something of the kind, and has her brought to Becket anyway. She is seen presumably undressed in his bed, before he asks her to leave.

It's unclear whether Becket has a wife or a mistress, but the king asks to spend the night with her and the man cannot refuse. Because Becket says he could never love her again after such a thing, the woman kills herself. There is a naked French girl in the king's bed. He throws off the covers to show her long nude thigh and part of her side in order to make a point. One more thing worth mentioning is the excess of references to the term "love" when it comes to the king's relationship with Becket. In the time when it was written, the love that two men can share as friends did not carry the negative associations that such free expression bring now. It is not intended to be interpreted in a homosexual manner, but nevertheless modern audiences might find that it can be interpreted that way, at least on the part of the king, whenever he rants about how Becket has betrayed him. In that light, it seems almost like his actions are those of an unrequited ardor rather than an infuriated retaliation for a brotherly betrayal. Even knowing the correct context of the relationship, it nevertheless made me a little uncomfortable. It's worth seeing if you're a history major or interested in the time period, but has a few too many faults for me to easily recommend.