Robert Schwentke’s years of research into Roman history – and an exciting collaboration with John Malkovich – has created a unique work in Seneca – On the Creation of Earthquakes, a surprising film in content and style that resonates with contemporary politics. Schwentke surrounds the great master with a new generation of talented German actors (Louis Hofmann, Alexander Fehling, Lilith Stangenberg, Tom Xander) as well as with the wonderful Geraldine Chaplin. // berlinale.de

Rome in 65 AD, the philosopher Seneca has been Emperor Nero‘s teacher, a callow, self-involved, emotionally volatile boy, gets some bad news from the office upstairs: Nero believes (wrongly, it turns out) that Seneca was part of a plot against his life. (Though Seneca was affiliated with the conspirators, there is no real evidence that he was part of the conspiracy.) Seneca is told: Go home, gather your family and friends and take your life tonight—the way you want to do it. Or, on the other hand, we will show up at your door tomorrow morning…and we will dispatch you.

And you’re not going to like that.

Swiftly accepting his fate, Seneca decides this is an opportunity to swing for the fences—for eternity, that is. He is going to go out like Socrates: gathering a small party of friends (social-climbing hangers-on, to be cruelly blunt) and giving them his life’s philosophy. After that, he shall open his wrists—and his place in history will be cemented forever.

He does exactly that. Except…he doesn’t die. And so, he gives another soaring speech and makes another game attempt at opening his arteries. He’s old, he’s skinny, it’s like he has sawdust in his veins: he just won’t die. Bring the hemlock! This, too, is an epic fail. And on it goes…

ON THE CREATION OF EARTHQUAKES is a miniaturized epic comedy about one man’s very flawed attempt to become immortal through language and ideas. It is also about what happens when the most thinking and feeling people in the World butt up against real barbarians… who unmistakably and horrifyingly play to win.

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