Vanishingly rare is the occasion on which I actively speculate on the behind the scenes doings of any movie. I have next to no interest in the complicated love lives or burgeoning drug problems of its stars; have not the slightest regard for the technical mechanics of how even the most elaborate shot was achieved; and care naught for the internecine rivalries between creative and executive personnel at any given studio. The makers of Us Weekly and TMZ will never see a cent of my money or a moment of my time -- I just want to watch my make believe adventures on screens big and small, with as little as possible of that intrusive real life detail to interfere.

But with The Eagle… well, the backstage stuff had me very intrigued. From whence, I wondered, did screenwriter Jeremy Brock get the inspiration for this historical reimagining? (It turns out it’s based on a 1954 children’s novel. Huh. Who knew?) How on Earth did it even get greenlit? And how the hell did Channing Tatum and Jamie Bell get cast as this movie’s bromancey leads? Let alone, how much fun was it when the cast and crew of the movie held a wrap party and these two dance movie stars -- the one from Step Up, the other from Billy Elliot -- showcased their respective styles? Did they compare and contrast hip hop and ballet? Did their training help in the fight scenes? Who would win in a dance off?

These were the questions I found myself pondering whenever my mind would wander from the story unfolding on screen. And wander it did. A lot. Because this is one sloooow movie. And slow movies will do that to a person.

Our story commences in Roman Britain, 140 A.D. Centurion Marcus Flavius Aquila (Tatum) takes command of a remote outpost, an assignment he had specifically requested; twenty years earlier his father and the entire legion under his command had vanished in the wilds of what is now Scotland, and with them went the golden eagle of Rome -- the small but oh-so-important statue of which our title so uncryptically speaks. Desperate to regain his family’s honor and after an heroically-earned injury at the hands of some disgruntled Britons (you will recall that Rome’s British outpost was an ongoing battlefield for most of its four centuries), Marcus and his newly acquired, duty-bound slave Esca (Bell) -- a prince of a decimated Northern tribe and a clear Stockholm Syndrome sufferer -- head toward the dangerous lands up beyond Hadrian’s Wall to discover what happened to missing Centurion Dad and the long lost Empire bling.

There is a scene in Clerks II in which cynical Star Wars fan Randal (Jeff Anderson) describes The Lord of the Rings trilogy as boring. “All it was, was a bunch of people walking,” he grouses. “Three movies of people walking to a fucking volcano.” And The Eagle feels a lot like that at times, despite the truly spectacular scenery and montagey attempts at speeding things up. Marcus and Esca riding horses. And riding horses some more. Occasionally stopping to ask for directions. More horse riding. The discovery of a killing field. And then, oooh, they have what amounts to a lover’s quarrel. (They’re not explicitly identified as lovers in the movie, but it’s all very homoerotic; so much so that at the end, you almost expect them to take each other’s hands as they walk off into the sunset. It’s so cute!) Discovered while tussling by the fabled blue-painted warriors of the Seal People, who are said to have last been within sight of the eagle (and Centurion Dad), the tables are turned and all seems lost for Rome. Esca is welcomed as a brother, and now it is Marcus who is the slave!

Hey, nice political allegory there, movie (and/or book)! I mean, there is a whole lot about this period piece that is unpleasant and makes one very glad to have been born in modern times: surgery without anesthetic and cold dead rat eating, to name but two instances. But the concept of conquest and slavery, taken so much for granted among the various peoples of this movie, is the most distasteful of all. And yet there is a cleverly pointed metaphor to be found in here, too: one about seeking to force “civilization” on those who don’t want it; on imposing one nation’s will on another, without considering local custom and belief; about blindly honoring one’s country even when that country is wrong. True, the eagle was the emblem of Rome, but is it not also the emblem of another, more recent, global empire? Coincidence, or deliciously subversive storytelling? You make the call.

Anyway, Marcus and Esca do (eventually -- remember, slow movie) come to terms and escape with the eagle in hand after their hosts/captors enjoy a big night of orgiastic pagan dancing and drinking, all of which looks like it would be equally at home in a movie about indigenous Australian, African or South Pacific peoples. (All barbarians are created equal, it seems.) There follows more of that “a bunch of people walking” stuff, some improbable survival-against-the-odds, and a particularly perplexing scene in which our hero apparently decides “Yeah, so I'll just leave this Very Important Object for which I have risked my life precariously staked into the ground while I go have a chat with my buddies", culminating in a pitched battle between some ragtag, twenty years-retired veterans of the first Roman incursion and the much-vaunted Pictish warriors of legend, and -- shock! The Romans win! And, bizarrely… I was actually happy about that.

For all that it isn’t exactly what one would call a good movie, The Eagle does bring up a whole bunch of interesting emotions and deep philosophical questions. Why did I want the Romans to win? Are they not the invaders? Usurpers? Cruel dictatorial overlords and ruthless rapists, pillagers and general bringers of misfortune and dismay to their conquered peoples? Well, yes, of course they are! But in this movie, Rome is mostly represented by Channing Tatum, and despite the fact that he is not much of an actor (seriously, dude, what was that accent meant to be?), that his character is an idiot, and that that the final triumphal battle makes next to no sense -- I’d need to go back and do a recount, but I don’t think there were originally that many Legionaries -- I found myself championing his cause over, say, that of the greasy-haired and brutal, yet justified, natives… because, why? He’s pretty?

How mortifying.

Meanwhile, there isn’t a single woman of note in this entire movie. I’m not even sure if any of the female extra-types get a name. No wonder Marcus and Esca have all that sizzling UST!

Now, if only we'd gotten to see them dance.

   -- Rachel Hyland