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About the only decorous thing that Charlton Heston can do now is to retire until Hollywood is ready to film The Lyndon Johnson Story. In two decades in movies and theater, the 41-year-old actor has played just about every other notable, including Moses, John the Baptist, Ben-Hur, El Cid, Macbeth, Michelangelo, Thomas Jefferson and Andrew Jackson, as well as the off-camera voices of Franklin D. Roosevelt and God. Of course, the studios would never let him retire. He is, in the trade term, one of the most "bankable" box-office stars going...
...movie, Khartoum, in which he plays a sort of Grauman's "Chinese" Gordon (TIME, Aug. 5), is smashing records in Manhattan. Reruns of his The Ten Commandments are drawing so well that the film could become the second biggest grosser in Hollywood history, edging out his own Ben-Hur and nearing the $41 million record of Gone With the Wind. And that just counts the North American take. Overseas, Heston is an even bigger favorite. He is also taken seriously as an actor. Despite the critics' First Commandment-thou shalt not worship a graven performance-Heston...
...uncomplainingly walked sandalless on his flat feet up Mount Sinai, and for his role of Michelangelo in The Agony and the Ecstasy jammed a plastic noodle into his nose to push it properly out of joint. He took a lengthy driver's course in the chariot for Ben-Hur, polished an English accent with a speech teacher and nightly tapings for seven weeks before Khartoum. "Just once," he admits, "I'd like a role in which...
...private tennis court, onto which he likes to coax name pros, who regularly clobber him. Otherwise, "Chuck" Heston, as friends call him, mostly stays inside doing calisthenics and culling scripts. It doesn't bother him to be called a square. "So," he says, "were Moses and Ben-Hur...
Heston, whose movie career has consisted mostly of impersonating Great Heroes of History (Moses, Michelangelo, Ben-Hur), plays Gordon with a swaggering virility complicated by moments of fierce introspection. At times, though, his crisp British officer's manner lapses into a fair imitation of Jack Benny, as when he stands on the battlements with dervishes tumbling in on all sides and stiffly observes: "Well! Here we are!" By contrast, Olivier's Mahdi is a small masterpiece of single-minded religious insanity-the lambent black eyes never blinking, the measured voice conjuring up holy terrors from his private heart...