The Robe (1953)

Biblical epic “The Robe” is more akin to “Ben-Hur” than any film about Christ. It follows a (fictional) man inspired by Christ, here Marcellus Gallio (Richard Burton), the rich, man-ho, authority-bucking Roman centurion who oversaw the very crucifixion of the Son of God. The titular red robe is that worn by Jesus, dropped at the cross, and won by Gallio in a bet. The robe, or course, isn’t just cloth. It’s the whole blood of salvation thing set to wake up Gallio from his life’s stupor. Too dumb for analogies? Dude also literally gets Jesus’ blood on his hands. The rest of the film tracks Gallio as he becomes a believer. Burton gnashes teeth down to the gums and when he gets that robe near his face, he “sucks” it up like Frank Drebin wrestling with that pillow in “Naked Gun.” Tin sword fights on stairs abound, too. Very “Robin Hood” sans tights. Thank the Lord. Still, for all the unintended laughs, many of director Henry Koster’s images are knock out: A distraught Judas walking off into the night, a tree in the distance is stunning. The end-scene “walk to heaven”? Just ick. B