In critical commentaries on the work of Theo Angelopoulos, Ο Μεγαλέζανδρος (Megalexandros or Alexander the Great, 1980) is usually omitted from extended discussion. The film does not relate directly to the themes of the historical films that preceded it or to the voyage and border films that followed. In many respects, however, Megalexandros is a template for Angelopoulos’ approach to politics and offers insight into the aesthetic choices that characterised his entire career. Megalexandros seeks to join history, myth and current events seamlessly with a healthy disrespect for all things authoritarian. In that sense, the film, for all its difficulties, holds an important place in the work of Angelopoulos. To analyse his achievements as an auteur or to assess the importance of his work in the development of the national cinema of Greece requires taking its successes and failures into account.

Megalexandros must also be examined within the context of the handful of films that examine anti-authoritarian revolutionary strategies. Most notable of these are La Patagonia Rebelde (Rebellion in Patagonia, 1973) and Land and Freedom (1997) (see Porton 1996: 30–4). Unlike Megalexandros, these films, like most films dealing with anarchism, focus on actual historical events and have conventional formats. The question of what format is best for films with revolutionary aspirations offers an intriguing approach to evaluating Megalexandros. Can films that seek to foster revolutionary thinking use conventional structures, or should such films employ a format that is as challenging as its content?

From the onset of his career, Theo Angelopoulos insisted that challenging political content in film must be presented in a challenging form. This perspective is in sharp contrast to that of a filmmaker such as Costas-Gavras who believes that popular formats can be appropriated for revolutionary political content, a proposition he first successfully explored in Z (1969). Angelopoulos believed that such an approach, while offering easy access to a mass audience, took the risk that conventional formats might neuter revolutionary content. In any case, he contended that stimulating audiences to think new thoughts requires that they also confront new modes of artistic expression (see Horton 1992: 28–31).