My son wants to hear the same story over and over again.  Right now, he’s on a “Knuffle Bunny” kick.  A few months ago it was “Green Eggs and Ham.” For a brief period this summer, he was all about “Sheep in a Jeep.”  Every night we let him pick a book off of his shelf to read to him before bedtime.  We’ve done this since he was about 18 months old.  He knows exactly what he is doing when he picks a book.  He knows what nearly every book on that shelf is.  And unlike most adults, who grow tired of hearing the same story over and over again, my son will read the same book every night for weeks.  It gets to the point where he memorizes them.

Stories are a medium of communication that is so powerful and so multi-layered, it is no wonder that when people try to establish absolute power over a culture they very frequently begin by limiting the stories that may be told. Myths are a particularly powerful kind of story, because they tap into the realms of magic, divinity, possibility. 

Anything can happen in a myth, and that suspension of the ordinary rules of existence allows for a more open exploration of the things we often take for granted in our world and our society.  It was science fiction before science fiction ever was.  Take the ancient myth of Leda , supposedly raped by the God Zeus who turned himself into a swan to do the deed.  Leda then lays two eggs, one of which holds the twin children of Zeus, Helen and Polydeuces, and one which holds the children of her husband the King of Sparta (they also did the deed that night), Castor and Clytemnestra. 

Simple story.  Took me two sentences to do the setup.  And yet to really allow the story to exist, the kinds of facts you need to make room for in your brain are, by reality-based standards, ridiculous.  Bestiality does exist, but I’m not really certain that anyone has ever successfully copulated with a swan (no do NOT post links to prove me wrong….if they have, I prefer NOT to have a visual thankyouverymuch), and given the fact that swans are actually mean, nasty creatures that bite, one has to ask, who would want to?  Then there is the biological fact that mammals do not lay eggs, nor hatch from them.  And two sets of twins at the same time from two different fathers? In the days of rampant in-vitro fertilization it seems more plausible, but as a natural occurrence?  Not so much.

Now, someone with a doctorate in ancient literature could probably do a neat exposition of exactly WHY the myth of Leda and the swan is constructed the way it is, the cultural purpose in its creation, and even break down all the symbolism of the swan and the eggs and the twins and everything else.  But that isn’t the point here, or even why I started on this little enterprise.  Actually, where I am going with this is something wholly different.  The fact that the story is so filled with possibility, and so poorly explained lends itself to interpretation and extrapolation.  Ask a storyteller to tell the story of Leda and the Swan and he or she may embellish it, changing certain aspects to highlight different points of the story, different themes and characters.  Because the mythical milieu of the story is so fantastical, nearly any change, no matter how implausible, is acceptable.

Such is what has happened to the myth of King Arthur.  Accounts of a King named Arthur who ruled Britain and fought Saxon invaders sometime in the 6^th Century date as early as 1138, in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s “History of the Kings of Britain.”  Some poetic references to Arthur date even earlier.  Over time, the legend of Arthur has been expanded, romanticized, retold, re-imagined, deconstructed, and otherwise molded and morphed at the whim of the one telling the story for centuries.

There are some aspects of the myth that have become, to some extent, an expected part of any telling of the “Legend of King Arthur,” a canon of sorts.  Arthur creates a near utopian place called “Camelot” where peace and justice reign.  Arthur marries Guenivere, and is later cuckolded by her with one of Arthur’s men named Lancelot.  Arthur rescues Britain from attack by a warrior of mysterious origin (some say he is Arthur’s son by his half-sister), but is mortally wounded in the process and mysteriously disappears before he can be laid to rest, supposedly spirited away to the mythical Isle of Avalon so that he may return to rescue Britain again in time of need. 

Though this is the accepted canon at this time, the truth of the matter is that even this bare bones version of the legend has morphed considerably from the original references from the 11^th and 12^th Centuries.  Indeed, in the 13^th and 14^th Centuries Arthur’s story became far less important than the ancillary myths that grew around the Arthurian legend – Tristan and Isolde, Perceval, Galahad and the quest for the Holy Grail.  In every era that Arthur’s legend is told, different aspects of the myth receive emphasis, different themes are selected to drive the storyline and provide motivation for the events of the story.  Which version of the Arthur legend you hear will depend greatly on who is telling it and why. 

Indeed, it is this incredible versatility of the Arthur legend that has always fascinated me.  You can hear the same story, told by different people, and glean completely different feelings and meanings and experiences from the telling.  I have through the course of my life gobbled up a truly inordinate amount of Arthurian literature and cinema.  And amazingly, it never gets old.  One would think that knowing how it all turns out in the end would diminish the enjoyment, but it really, really doesn’t. Suddenly the fun becomes seeing how they’ll spin the yarn.  Will they take the “Mordred as Arthur’s son” angle or not?  How do they handle the romance between Lancelot and Guenivere? What will they have to say about the “round table” and the grail?  The answers to these questions create more than enough suspense and anticipation to make reading the “same” story again interesting. Maybe I am more like my son than I think.

But not every retelling of the Arthur legend is created equal in entertainment value. Nowhere is this more evident than in the various Arthur retellings that have been committed to film in the past 35 years:

Excalibur – This 1981 John Boorman directed picture is probably the most atmospheric and overwrought of the films discussed here.  Boorman’s Arthur is an overblown emotional cow.  Merlin makes cryptic pronouncements and is wearing this weird metal skullcap that looks damned uncomfortable.  Boorman sticks pretty close to the current Arthurian canon, and loads it up with lots of bloodthirsty battle scenes, interesting visuals, and overacting.  Boorman’s Arthur is tied to “The Land,” and if Arthur is in a funk, “The Land” becomes desolate.  It’s an interesting take, rather historical in perspective considering that in the Dark Ages, kingship was indeed all about who held the land.

 Many who love the sci-fi/fantasy genre consider this movie a classic, even the sine qua non of Arthur movies.  And while it does shamelessly provide the thrills and magic and etherium that those who love the genre crave, and it was wildly popular back in the 1980’s, the movie has not stood up well over time.  Watch it now and it looks schlocky.

First Knight – A 1995 Arthur retelling starring Sean Connery as Arthur and Richard Gere as Lancelot, First Knight is rather frustrating because it attempts many things that are interesting, but never takes any of them quite far enough.  Choosing a geezerish Sean Connery to play Arthur obviates the need to set up how Arthur gets Excalibur, or how Camelot or the round table or the knights of the round table come to be, but it does set up an interesting angle on the relationships with Lancelot and Guenivere (Julia Ormond), who are both much younger. It’s a no-brainer that Guenivere would choose the virile young knight who saves her life twice over an old man who prattles on about brotherhood and walks like he has the great Excalibur stuck up his butt.

Another interesting wrinkle here is that in this version, all the magical elements of the Arthurian legend have been stripped out.  There is no Merlin, and Excalibur is nothing but a very nice sword.  But the movie doesn’t seem to have a reason for this other than perhaps there was no special effects budget. Little set up is available about Prince Malagant, the warlord who threatens Camelot and Britain (obviously meant to be this story’s Mordred), save that he used to be a Knight of the round table, he has the hots for Guenivere, and he finds Arthur’s babble about brotherhood and men being equals to be rubbish.  

None of the plot is helped by the fact that the acting is bad.  Very, very bad.

What is most infuriating about this movie is the look of the whole thing. Arthur’s Knights are put in matching blue tabards with little silver rectangles on them that don’t look like armor so much as Star Trek uniforms.  Almost all the armor and costuming are “medieval-ish” concoctions in bright colors, which when set against the rather late-period French-looking castle, make the whole movie look almost cartoonish.  Arthur and his knights seem so regimented, so conformist, that when Malagant talks about “the tyranny of Camelot” you almost sympathize.

Mists of Avalon – This 3 hour TV miniseries from 2001 was based on the novel of the same name by Marion Zimmer Bradley.  The miniseries hews relatively close to the book, and therefore shares the book’s focus on the women of the Camelot legend – Morgan, Arthur’s half-sister in particular.  It also creates the conflict between Arthur and Morgan as a conflict between the Christian and Pagan religions.  Unlike previous Arthurian films that approached the legend head on, “Avalon” attempts to tell a “story behind the story.”  The results are sometimes a bit preachy, but on the whole very well done.

Of all the movies, this one probably has the most appealing look and some of the best acting.  Obviously having nearly twice the time to tell the story helps in making the story much more interesting and the themes much better developed.  Bradley’s point of view on the story is unique, and it is handled well.

King Arthur – Antoine Fuqua’s 2004 portrayal of Arthur was well received in part because it purported to “demystify” the Arthurian legend and put Arthur in the context of the real history of Britain of the time, and in part because it stars Clive Owen and Keira Knightly. 

If you love the Arthur legend, this “retelling” will prove disappointing.  Arthur goes from being King of England to a Roman soldier, and while he does fight off invading Saxons, there is no Camelot, no round table, and no Excalibur.  Guenivere is played as a plucky pictish princess by Keira Knightly, but there is no triangle between her, Arthur, and Lancelot.  The story of this Arthur goes from being a legend about a great King, to being an action film wherein Arthur is a noble man caught in the web of post-Roman Empire politics in 4^th Century Britain.

The irony of it all is how many anachronisms there are in a movie that purports to portray the “historic” Arthur as opposed to the Arthur of legend.  Arthur and especially his pictish allies (called “woads” – don’t ask) use all sorts of military gear that had not been invented yet or would have been inappropriate to 4tth Century Britain.  I spent the better part of two weeks muttering about “picts with siege engines” after seeing this movie.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail – This 1975 Monte Python classic is something that you either adore and quote incessantly, or something you think is geeky and very uncool.  Yes, I fall into the former category.  I regularly threaten my friends to “come back here so I can bite your kneecaps off!” And I am aware that “Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number shall be three.”  Because, as we all know, four is too many, and five is right out.  In true Flying Circus fashion the Monty Python crew skewer the Arthur legend with hilarious results.  Arthur is chastised for assuming monarchy on the basis of receiving a sword from some “watery tart” and he and his knights suffer many misadventures on the way to finding the Holy Grail, which is being guarded by a French knight with a penchant for taunting.  This is probably the most unique take on the Arthur legend, and the funniest.

Merlin – Sam Neill stars as the wizard Merlin in this 1998 miniseries that took home a slew of awards.  In my mind this version strikes the absolute best balance between magic and history, choosing to take a moderate, even-handed approach with the basic legend.  The twist is, of course, the fact that the legend is being told via the King’s wizard, Merlin, who rather than being the architect of the myth of Camelot, ends up the helpless victim of a world that is straddling the line between magic and reason, and magic is losing its grip at a rapid pace. 

This is by far the best acted of the bunch, and with a cast that includes not only Sam Neill but John Geilgud, Miranda Richardson, Helena Bonham Carter, Isabella Rossellini and a fantastic turn by Martin Short as the evil gnomish Frik, it’s no wonder really.  Arthur, like his father before him, is a weak man whose ideals can’t stand up in the face of his humanity. And Merlin is no longer a wise wizard who knows and sees all, but becomes human himself, telling his account from a place of deep regret that he was not aware enough or strong enough to prevent the dream of Camelot form perishing.  

Again, in the end, I am struck with the amazing fact that while every one of these movies is essentially telling the exact same story, the individual telling of each tale is radically different.  Each assumes a different focus, a different perspective from the others.  One could watch each of these movies back to back and not feel that they watched the same thing over and over (though, in the case of some of the more dreadful movies – First Knight, for instance – one might wish they could watch something else.)

Such is the power of legend.  Someday, maybe we’ll have six different versions of “Green Eggs and Ham.”  But I rather doubt it.