Alexander the Great (1956)
- Soames Inscker
- Apr 23
- 5 min read

Ambition, Empire, and a Flawed Epic
In an era when Hollywood turned its lens toward the grand narratives of history and legend, Alexander the Great (1956) aspired to be a sweeping chronicle of one of the most extraordinary lives in antiquity. Directed, written, and produced by Robert Rossen, this film attempts to encapsulate the meteoric rise and complex psyche of Alexander III of Macedon, one of the most brilliant and controversial military leaders in world history.
While the film is ambitious in its scope and sincere in its historical interest, it struggles under the weight of its own intellectualism and uneven execution. Nonetheless, it remains a fascinating—if flawed—portrait of a man whose life blurred the line between myth and reality.
Plot Summary
The film traces Alexander’s journey from a privileged youth under the tutelage of Aristotle to his conquests across Persia and into India. It opens in Macedonia, where Alexander (played by Richard Burton) is the son of the war-hardened and ambitious King Philip II (Fredric March) and the enigmatic Queen Olympias (Danielle Darrieux).
After Philip’s assassination, Alexander ascends to the throne and quickly consolidates power. Driven by a desire to unite the known world, he launches an extraordinary military campaign, defeating the mighty Persian Empire under Darius III and expanding his dominion across Asia.
But as the film progresses, the focus shifts from military conquest to Alexander’s growing sense of destiny, paranoia, and eventual estrangement from his generals and companions. His decision to embrace Persian customs, his demand for divine honours, and the mysterious circumstances surrounding the deaths of trusted allies foreshadow his tragic demise at the age of 32.
Performances

Richard Burton, as Alexander, delivers a performance of intelligence and intensity. He brings a cerebral quality to the character, portraying Alexander as more philosopher-king than bloodthirsty warrior. While Burton’s commanding voice and classical presence are well-suited to the role, there are moments where his aloofness dulls the emotional stakes. His Alexander feels remote—perhaps intentionally so—more a symbol of ambition and intellect than a fully realized human being.
Fredric March as Philip II is a highlight. Gruff, ambitious, and complex, March brings energy and unpredictability to the role, embodying the man whose ambition both shapes and threatens Alexander’s future.
Danielle Darrieux gives Olympias a mysterious and almost mythical quality, though her screen time is limited. She represents the spiritual and prophetic forces that haunt Alexander throughout the film.
Claire Bloom appears as Barsine, a Persian noblewoman and love interest, though her role is largely symbolic and underdeveloped.
Supporting cast members such as Peter Cushing (as Memnon) and Harry Andrews (as Parmenion) add gravitas to Alexander’s circle, though many characters feel more like historical placeholders than fully developed personas.
Direction and Style
Director Robert Rossen, known for character-driven dramas like All the King’s Men (1949), brings a serious-minded approach to the epic form. Alexander the Great is not a spectacle-driven film in the mould of Ben-Hur or Spartacus; instead, it attempts a more introspective, even philosophical, take on the legendary figure.
Rossen’s script is heavy with political dialogue, classical rhetoric, and historical exposition. The tone is earnest and scholarly—perhaps to a fault. Rather than thrilling battle scenes or romantic subplots, Rossen offers debates about governance, power, and legacy. While admirable in ambition, this can sometimes lead to a lack of emotional engagement.

The cinematography, shot on location in Spain, captures the vastness of Alexander’s journey with rugged landscapes and sprawling battle scenes. However, the production values, while respectable, lack the polish and extravagance seen in other epics of the time. The battle choreography is serviceable but not particularly dynamic or memorable.
Themes and Interpretation
The film wrestles with several key themes:
The Nature of Power – Alexander is portrayed not merely as a conqueror but as a visionary trying to unite East and West. His quest for unity is shown as both noble and deeply problematic.
Divine Destiny vs. Human Fragility – Alexander’s belief in his own godlike status isolates him from his men and ultimately contributes to his downfall.
Legacy and Mortality – The film ends on a sombre note, contemplating whether Alexander truly succeeded in leaving a lasting legacy or merely burned brightly and briefly.
There’s a consistent tension between the philosophical and the political, between Alexander’s ideas of universal brotherhood and the practical realities of ruling an empire. The film poses questions more than it answers them, making it intellectually rich but emotionally distant.
Historical Accuracy
Compared to many other sword-and-sandal films of the 1950s, Alexander the Great takes notable care with historical accuracy. It closely follows the key events of Alexander’s life and portrays his relationships with real historical figures. However, the psychological portrait it offers—while compelling—is speculative and filtered through a modern sensibility.
Notably, the film glosses over or omits Alexander's complex personal relationships, including the possible homoerotic dimensions often discussed in modern scholarship. This reflects the cultural limitations of 1950s Hollywood more than the history itself.
Reception and Legacy
Upon its release, Alexander the Great received mixed reviews. Critics admired its ambition and intelligence but found it slow-paced and lacking the visual dynamism expected of historical epics. It performed modestly at the box office and was largely overshadowed by more spectacular and emotionally resonant films of the period.
Over time, the film has gained a kind of cult respect among fans of historical cinema. It is praised for its thoughtful script and Burton’s intense performance, but it remains a curious outlier in the genre: more cerebral than visceral, more thesis than thrill.
Modern Perspective
Viewed today, Alexander the Great feels unconventional compared to the bombastic epics of its time. It is more a study in leadership and identity than a straightforward adventure film. For viewers interested in the psychology of power or the burden of greatness, the film offers a serious and reflective take on one of history’s most enigmatic figures.
That said, modern audiences may find its pacing slow and its production modest by contemporary standards. Its lack of emotional immediacy can be a barrier, but for those willing to engage with its ideas, Alexander the Great has a quiet, enduring depth.
Final Verdict
Alexander the Great is a noble, ambitious film that seeks to understand the mind of a man who reshaped the ancient world. Richard Burton brings gravitas and intellect to the role, and Robert Rossen crafts a film that favours substance over spectacle. Though it may lack the visceral thrills and visual dazzle of other 1950s epics, it stands out for its philosophical tone and historical sincerity. A thoughtful but flawed classic—worth revisiting by history buffs and lovers of classic cinema.