Call me strange, but if I were casting for the character of Moses, I would not have selected Christian Bale. He looks like an Idaho mountain man throughout. This film manages to take from the Jews the one thing the Egyptians did not, namely their Judaism; the word “Hebrews” is muttered occasionally but the rest is swept under the carpet in favor of periodic Christian references. The emotional tenor of Moses’ self-confidence is closer to the Koran than the Torah. The movie itself offers gnosticism, namely that the ten-year old boy with a British accent is not God but rather a messenger or perhaps the demiurge, don’t forget the subtitle of the movie or Scott’s own comments in interviews. Embedded in the narrative are visual references to the Holocaust, a critique of the military policies of the state of Israel, and a slam on Western (American?) bombing and firebombing techniques and the killing of children. The city, visuals, water scenes, and sense of scale are spectacular and worth the price of admission. María Valverde is beautiful as Zipporah. But to enjoy it — which I did — you must go expecting dreck because that is what you get.