The Dacians and socialism

Alexandru Ionașcu

Review

The Ideological Context and Propaganda Cinema

• Cultural Differences in Film Viewing: While in the West audiences view cinema as a form of entertainment, relaxation, and escapism, in Eastern Europe—and especially in Romania—things worked differently.
• The historical film as a political tool: During the period of state socialism (1965–1989), under Nicolae Ceaușescu’s regime, Romanian cinema was used to promote a nationalist project aimed at fostering national pride and demonstrating that the country’s past was glorious.
• The Mythologization of the Dacians: Since actual historical data on the Geto-Dacians is scarce and general, they became the ideal subject for the regime’s nationalist fantasies and essentialist projections.
• Sergiu Nicolaescu’s Debut: It is within this political context that the film “The Dacians” (1966) appears, the first Romanian historical blockbuster (a co-production with France), which also marks Sergiu Nicolaescu’s directorial debut.

Analysis of the Plot and Deconstruction of the Film’s Myths

• The Epic Opening: The film opens with the siege of a Dacian fortress by Roman legions. The initial dialogue between the Roman envoy (who demands submission in the name of the “masters of the world”) and the Dacian warrior (who replies, “You will succeed if we perish”) sets the specific tone of nationalist propaganda.
• Gender Roles and Historical Reality: The film subtly introduces patriarchy through a scene in which a young Dacian refuses to help his sister with household chores, asserting that a warrior does not do “women’s work.” The reviewer emphasizes that the historical reality documented by Herodotus was far harsher: the Geto-Dacians were polygamous, and upon the husband’s death, the favorite wife was ritually killed and buried with him, while the remaining women were marginalized.
• Clichés and the Course of Hostilities: The action oscillates between the Roman camp—where General Cornelius Fuscus hides his short-sightedness with the help of the young Severus, and Emperor Domitian demands a quick victory to pay his army—and the world of the Dacians. After clichéd scenes of diplomacy and joint feasts, a battle ensues in a mountain pass where the Roman legions are massacred by the Dacians. The scenes of women and children sent into the mountains and Dacians hurling boulders gave rise to the nationalist legends found in school textbooks. Sergiu Nicolaescu also has a role in the film, that of a Roman legionary who dies toward the end.

Characters and Logistical Resources

• Massive state support: The production benefited from enormous resources from the socialist regime, which provided entire army units to serve as extras for the Dacians and Romans.
• The Portrayal of Decebal: The Dacian king is played by Amza Pellea, an actor beloved by an audience in the midst of urbanization thanks to his roles as likable peasants. In the film, Decebal is presented as a wise peasant attached to tradition. Pellea visibly resorts to theatrical props.
• The character of Meda: Decebal’s daughter is the most interesting and anachronistic character; she displays a modern mindset, defying the king and rejecting the sacrifice of her brother, Cotyzo, in the name of the god Zamolxe. The Dacian authority’s response, asserting that ancestral traditions must be accepted as they are, reflects an ultra-conservative and nationalist mentality.

Cultural Legacy and Production Blunders

• Technical Benchmark: From a technical standpoint, “The Dacians” served as a benchmark for Romanian cinema through its fight choreography, crowd movement, and the direct involvement of the Ministry of Defense.
• Famous bloopers: Due to the colossal scale of the production and the large number of extras, the film has remained in the collective consciousness through memorable bloopers, which have fueled numerous popular jokes, such as the presence of high-voltage power lines in the background or the Dacians wearing wristwatches.
• Optical irony: The author concludes on an ironic note, noting that the Roman general Cornelius Fuscus could not have benefited from glasses for his myopia in 87 CE, since major discoveries in the field of optics would not be made by Muslim thinkers until a millennium later, during the Islamic Golden Age.

The Film “The Dacians” (with auto-generated English subtitles)

Review

In a place like Romania, cinema operates in a way that seems strange to an outside observer. For the average person who goes to the movies on a Friday or Saturday night, the whole experience is about relaxation and entertainment, while that passionate cinephile from a big city goes to the cinema to enjoy the full package—that is, posters and what new films have come out, more or less casual discussions with other equally passionate cinephiles, the acting and cinematography, getting lost in the story, or admiring—or not—the special effects. Broadly speaking, those in these two categories of movie-goers see the experience of watching a film as nothing more than escapism, relaxation, and learning. In Eastern Europe, however, things are a little different, especially in one particular place in Eastern Europe. As is usually the case when it comes to Eastern Europe, of course. That particular place is Romania.

During the 1965–1989 era of Romanian state socialism, when power belonged to Nicolae Ceaușescu, Romanian cinema became acquainted with historical propaganda films; thus, Romanians of that time went to the movies not only for escapism and aesthetic pleasure, but also to feel proud of being Romanian—to put it simply. The cinema of this period of modern Romanian history also served a nationalist project aimed at demonstrating that the Romanians’ past is something grand and that they have always been in the spotlight of history, including their ancestors known as the Getae, Geto-Dacians, or simply—the Dacians. These Dacians are the perfect subject for nationalist fantasy for the simple reason that not much is known about them. That is the state of affairs. We know only a few general details about the Dacians, so this is a good opportunity for nationalist media to project essentialist images. The first notable Romanian film in which the Dacians—and thus, in a sense, Romanian antiquity and the ancestors of the Romanians—are the main subject is actually called The Dacians (1966) and marks Sergiu Nicolaescu’s directorial debut. What happens in this film?

Sergiu Nicolaescu’s first historical film was bound not to disappoint, and the opening is epic: we see a Dacian fortress surrounded by Roman legions; a Roman messenger appears and asks a shaggy Dacian perched on the ramparts to open the gates, promising that all the Dacians in the fortress will enjoy their lives and freedom. An offer you can’t refuse, you might say; sure, we’d all accept this offer and submit to the most powerful army of the time. But that’s not how nationalist historical cinema works, and it certainly isn’t how the master Sergiu Nicolaescu works, and the following dialogue proves it. When asked by the barbarian warrior—pardon me, I mean the Dacian on the ramparts, “Who are you?”— the Roman legionnaire can only reply, “The masters of the world!” Yet the retort received from the valiant Dacian warrior is, without a doubt, the most epic retort ever delivered to an invader in Romanian nationalist historical cinema: “You will succeed, if we perish.” A powerfully epic response. 

In the following scenes, two young Dacians, a brother and sister, return from hunting; one of them plays a kind of flute, and when the girl asks her brother to fetch water and then help her with the rest of the household chores, the young man’s reply comes promptly: “A warrior does not do women’s work.” Thus we learn that patriarchal gender roles existed as far back as the Dacians, so Sergiu Nicolaescu’s genius explains to us where the gender inequalities of today’s Romanians come from. If you get the impression that these images are merely embellishments, well, you’re right—the historical reality is far uglier:

“[…] many of the women among them have died; and, when the man dies, they must hold a strict judgment for the men and women who were dearest to him. And whoever is chosen by all as having been dearest to him shall be praised by the men and women, and they shall go to place a wreath upon her husband’s grave: a wreath placed by whoever is closest; and thus be buried in the same place as her husband. But the others are filled with great shame, for they have remained dishonored: for this is a great disgrace to them.” (Herodotus, Histories)

Translated into modern Romanian, this passage about the Thracians from Herodotus’s Histories tells us that the men in that region—and thus the Geto-Dacians as well—were polygamous, and upon the husband’s death, the favorite wife was killed by those around her and buried with her dead husband, while the other wives were left with a social stigma, and were therefore likely marginalized, since they had not been the favorites of the dead, polygamous husband. I told you that the realities on the ground were much worse. But let’s return to our film. 

From the rural world of the Dacians, we arrive at the Roman camp, where Commander Cornelius Fuscus wants to show his soldiers how to throw a spear, but he seems to be nearsighted. Luckily for him, the younger Severus shows up, and Fuscus’s secret is safe. The Roman legions are preparing to invade Dacian lands, and the Roman emperor Domitian wants a quick victory, especially since those legions need to be paid; the ordinary Roman soldier Marcus from Tarentum isn’t fighting just for the emperor’s glory. But before the emperor’s glory, diplomacy still has a say, and the two camps fraternize; we see a joint feast with Dacians and Romans at a single table, and everything unfolds as patriarchal as we’d expect, especially on the Dacian side. I’m referring to images of bearded Dacians biting into chunks of meat and shoveling their faces into goblets of what is supposed to be wine—though it doesn’t really matter—but we know that such images are clichéd. Just as clichéd is the first confrontation between the Dacians and the Romans, with that commander Cornelius Fuscus launching a hasty attack and the legions being massacred by Dacian warriors hiding in the mountain passes. The Dacians hurl boulders at the Romans, tell the women and children to hide in the mountains—little stories known to all students of my generation, remnants of nationalist legends whose source was also this first film directed by Sergiu Nicolaescu. The same Sergiu Nicolaescu also appears as a character in this film; he is a Roman legionary and will die in the final part of the film.

The era of state socialism in Romanian cinema is known for the support directors received from the state, and for historical films, this support translated into entire army units serving as extras, both Roman legions and Dacian bands. Decebal, the king of the Dacians, is played by Amza Pellea, an actor who became famous for his portrayals of peasants—characters he made endearing to an audience already in the midst of urbanization—and he does not disappoint in this film either. Decebal, as envisioned by Sergiu Nicolaescu, is a sort of wise peasant attentive to ancestral customs, with a stilted expression meant to convey wisdom, but you’ll realize quite quickly that it’s a trick borrowed from theatrical props. The most interesting character to me is Meda, Decebal’s daughter and Cotyzo’s sister—a character certainly without historical basis, considering how modern her thinking is and how she responds to the Dacian king. Confronting Decebal regarding the sacrifice of Cotyzo so that Zamolxe, the chief god of the Dacians, might give them a sign before a battle, she completely rejects the existence of this god and disapproves of Dacian practices. Burebista’s response? Customs were “forged” by the ancestors, so they must be accepted, good or bad. A response that would please any ultra-conservative, and the nationalist right north of the Danube was no exception, seeing in the Romanian rural world possible clues regarding the behaviors of the ancient Dacians. Given the polygamy and organized femicide, it’s no wonder that this female character wanted to change the patriarchal law.

What is the role of this film in Romania’s cultural history? Although a Romanian-French co-production, The Dacians is the first Romanian historical blockbuster and served as a benchmark for historical film, particularly in terms of technical aspects, battle choreography, the movement of extras, and the Ministry of Defense’s involvement in military choreography. Because they involved a large number of extras, films like The Dacians have remained in the Romanian collective consciousness through jokes about the bloopers in the cinema of that era: all Romanians are familiar with the high-voltage wires visible in certain scenes of historical films centered on the ancient Geto-Dacians, or the countless jokes about Dacians wearing wristwatches. As for me, I regret that it will be more than a millennium before the discoveries in optics made by Muslim thinkers during that Islamic Golden Age, so Cornelius Fuscus, the Roman commander involved in the battle lost to the Dacians in 87 AD, will not benefit from eyeglasses.

The Dacians (1966), directed by Sergiu Nicolaescu, starring: Amza Pellea, Emil Botta, Pierre Brice, Mircea Albulescu, György Kovács.

Bibliography

Herodotus, Histories. Edited by Liviu Onu and Lucia Șapcaliu, with a preface, philological study, notes, and glossary by Liviu Onu, and an index by Lucia Șapcaliu. Bucharest: Minerva Publishing House, 1984.

Photo: Roman legions besieging a Dacian fortress at the beginning of the film “The Dacians” (source: YouTube)

Subscribe to the channel of the blog “The Bridge of Friendship” in YouTube, where a number of video and audio interviews are published! The blog can also be followed in Facebook and Twitter. Its Telegram channel is here. And here is its Substack account.

About Author