"Don't you say a word to Chuck or he'll fall apart .."

I was probably about seven or eight years old the first time I saw Ben Hur.  It must have been sometime in the early 70s when it was first broadcast in North America.  And it would have been a family event, all of us gathered around the Viking TV from the T Eaton Company Limited.  My oldest sister would have been away at college, but otherwise we would have all been in the living room after dinner watching this storied CinemaScope epic.

One of the scenes that stood out for me is when Messala, played by Stephen Boyd, and Judah, played by Charleton Heston, reunite as friends early in the movie.  As a junior gay boy my rabbit ears were attenuated to any nuance of secret contact.  Years later I would read Gore Vidal's description of his time as a scriptwriter on the film, now the stuff of juicy legend in Palimpsest and The Celluloid Closest.

At the time of course, being under 10 years of age, I only had my instincts to go on.  I do recall Stephen Boyd's searching eyes.  No doubt Heston was quite dishy back in 1959, but if a prepubescent little kid could pick up on something more than he was merely seeing, what, I thought, must my family members think?  I was transfixed and I also felt quite literally exposed.  Then they locked arms like a wedded couple, taking their drink of friendship.  Later, as an adult, I remember being almost embarrassed by their intimacy, but could not avert my eyes.

 Clearly Vidal was talking to me in his telegraphic way, gently tapping out a message in those sparkling eyes of Boyd - that spoke directly to me.

Imagine my delight when next I saw Boyd wrapped in a towel surrounded by other tribunes making a wager against his old bosom buddy.  There were men in white towels everywhere.  A few were probably UCLA footballers doing a bit of extra work.  Even though there were shirtless men decorating the screen as far as the eye could see, the scene left me cold.  It was a transaction, there was little passion, as much as there was surprise on the part of the tribunes and cunning on the part of Sheikh Ilderim.  I did enjoy Boyd's creeping sense of having his bluff called.  His walk off, screen left, is great.

The last and much more grisly scene was the death of Messala, after the famous race they took in the circus.  But again finally, I have to say there was a homoerotic element to it, at least for me.  This you may find odd, even more so from the mind of an eight year old.  It begins with Boyd holding himself up on straps, supporting as best he can his now broken body.  This alone, as the scene starts, again engaged me years before my adolescence equipped me to understand such feelings.  His tensed arms grip the leather and muscles lead down to a naked and hairy armpit awash in blood and torn flesh.  Heavy stuff indeed, amid his groans and screams and muscular tenses - and releases.  He is splayed, open and defeated.  It is a great death scene, and Boyd was a fine actor.

I admit I am not much of a fetishist, role playing I find silly, I much prefer just simple and genuine affection. Regardless, once again there I was, this time jonesing over Stephen Boyd's taut physique (broken or not).  At the time, being so young, I never really reflected on the base interest I felt seeing those scenes - the third one especially, in the dark and shadowy bowels of that circus maximus.  Before even knowing the mechanics, let alone having the desire for sex, here I was processing quite sophisticated erotic intelligence.  What was going on in my head?!  I wasn't even ten years old.

I suppose it is a reflection upon character that I wasn't bothered over what I thought about it all or the excitement it stirred in me.  This then, is the saving grace of being part Scandinavian I suppose!  My mother was French Roman Catholic, but I was raised in a very Nordic tradition (steam bath on Sundays, not church).  It may have possibly made Heston crumble, but it only piqued an interest that would take another 17 years for me to fully mature.  I spent a better part of the 90s in The Barn on Granby street here in the city.  I got my dungeon, at last.