The Death of the Centurion

The Death of the Centurion is an astoundingly unusual historical drama meets docu-form testimony. Based around figures and events in Roman history, this 26-minute movie – told entirely through voiceover, with visuals simply accompanying – tells the tale of a centurion, Cassius Liberius (played by Cristian Ciomaga), who falls victim to his own sense of will, ego and superstition. The film also stars Tudor Urea and Florin Nicula. This is in no way your conventional docudrama; from its idiosyncratic mix of media in terms of cinematic craft, to the jarring atmosphere formed from the narration, audiences are sure to be left fascinated, certainly, but also slightly confused as a result of this unique tone.

I’d briefly like to get the film’s main issue out the way: the narration – whilst flowery in its description and entertaining enough for its vocal performance – hinders the film’s ability to properly tell the story it wishes to tell. To demonstrate this, I’ll provide an example. During perhaps the dramatic turning point of the script, a deeply significant conversation takes place between a few Romans at a tavern of some kind. However, instead of allowing this conversation to take place as you would see in any other media, we’re relayed the conversation in the third person by the narration. We can still see the characters’ lips moving, and the camera draws our attention to the faces of these actors. This creates a slightly unwatchable characteristic of cognitive dissonance and leaves one wondering what the testimony is meant to be adding besides the aesthetic quality of ‘someone writing a letter, recounting a story’. This unfortunate decision is hardly worth dwelling upon, however, as there’s so much else to enjoy about the machinery and intentionality of the craft...

The shooting on location, in forests and the general wilderness, provides the mise-en-scene a scintillating sense of authenticity. For instance, if the viewer was not interested in the story or its manner of telling, they would still have these gorgeous yet ruthless landscapes – shot very strikingly – to gaze upon. In terms of the cinematography specifically, this critic was a massive fan of how long focal-lengths and fast shutter-speeds were implemented to emphasise motion and drama – much like in the legendary works of Akira Kurosawa. This picture also provides us a wide range of enjoyable locations and scenarios, with era-appropriate costumes and set-dressing to hammer it home. These filmmakers are clearly talented historians, and you can clearly feel that passion through their artistry as well.

Epic in scope and ambitious, yet polarising in its bizarre technical execution, there becomes much to both celebrate and lament regarding The Death of the Centurion. Its form only goes so far as to inform and intellectually stimulate; but not necessarily so far as to immerse or emotionally activate. Nevertheless, this is a piece which admirably attempts to juggle a multitude of ideas and aesthetics – much of which, one must admit, is accomplished with grace and cinematic aptitude. So, even though it might not quite reach the level of execution which writer-director Octavian Repede undoubtedly embarked upon, it remains a thoughtful and epic work of short form filmmaking.