Cuparia

The generically named Swashbuckler (1976) is, indeed, generic, which does not, unfortunately, prevent it from being distinctly bad. Much of the credit for the film’s shortcomings belong to the screenplay. There are limits to what even the greatest actors can do with a rotten script, which is why they are normally choosy (although there are occasional lapses of judgment as in the cases of Robert Shaw, James Earl Jones, and Geneviève Bujold). There is, however, no shortage of actors willing to turn in an appalling performance appropriate to the lousiness of their lines (for which we may be truly thankful to Peter Boyle and Beau Bridges).

Set in Jamaica in 1718, we are informed at the beginning of the film that this is the glorious age of piracy, when buccaneers fought the oppressive rule of colonial governors throughout the Caribbean, and that the most famous pirate of all was Captain Ned Lynch. This is straightforward enough. We have the setting, the conflict, the protagonist, and the antagonist neatly summarized. Undoubtedly there will be piratical antics, imperialist depredations, wrongs to be righted, and a love-hate romantic interest thrown in somewhere. But first things first. Something bad is about to happen to someone we don’t know, but we know they don’t deserve it because the townspeople we don’t know appear to disapprove. In this case the victim is Nick Debrett (Jones), who is about to be hanged by the lazily named Major Folly (Bridges), which is contrary to the wishes of the general population of Kingston, Jamaica. As luck would have it (and as the music informs us in no uncertain terms), the heroes arrive just in the nick of time aboard the good ship Blarney Cock (played by the Golden Hinde II, a full-scale replica of Sir Francis Drake’s famous ship) and save the day with cannon fire, rope-swinging, and piratey boisterousness. At this point we are introduced to Captain Ned Lynch (Shaw), who loves nothing better than fighting, robbing, wenching, and composing limericks.

In short order we are also introduced to Lord Durant (Boyle), the decadent, depraved, despotic governor of Jamaica whose 20th century American accent does nothing to undermine the quality of the fine script. We are also introduced to Lord Durant’s most prominent oppressed citizens, our heroine Jane Barnet (Bujold) and her mother, Lady Barnet (Louisa Horton), who have been evicted from their mansion and deprived of their possessions after Sir James Barnet (Bernard Behrens) is found guilty of integrity and therefore imprisoned.

The story, of course, leads inexorably to encounters (and conflict) between Ned Lynch and Jane Barnet, conflict between them and Lord Durant, and the inevitable Daring Rescue Attempt followed by the inevitable Climactic Duel. (I’m not giving anything away. Every element of the plot is announced via semaphore by a flag-wielding screenwriter.)

It is a pity such beautiful cinematography and scenery were wasted on such an utterly banal story and apparently random casting. If Avery Schreiber can land a role in the film (as the pirate Polonski), it is surely an indicator that nothing should be taken seriously. The stunts and fight scenes are functional, but largely unremarkable. As a whole, despite the location and obviously substantial budget, Swashbuckler seems more like a 1970s made-for-television movie than a period adventure film intended for the silver screen. There is never that moment of immersion into the story that is so necessarily a part of any good movie, especially an escapist one.

Swashbuckler has one factor that simultaneously redeems and condemns it: Peter Boyle as Lord Durant. Playing his part just as dreadfully as it was written, Boyle reduces his character to the dimensions of a villain in a Mel Brooks comedy (coincidentally having starred in Young Frankenstein two years earlier). Amongst his lines, some of the most absurd include, “Let the bitch try and take me,” “I serve one master, and his name is Darkness,” and, fittingly, “Draw the curtains. The farce is ended!” — a line exclaimed just prior to falling out of a window.

• Writing: Terrible
• Directing: Fair
• Acting: Poor (Peter Boyle: Terrible)
• Cinematography: Good
• Stunts: Good
• Swordplay: Fair
• Panache: Mediocre

Overall Rating: Mediocre
Swashbuckling Rank: Fair

In Adventures of Don Juan (1948), Errol Flynn returns to full color swashbuckling as the most famous ladies’ man in history. Beginning with one such adventure in progress, the film quickly progresses to more important matters as Don Juan finds himself involved — through no fault of his own — in affairs of the state (ahem) and an alliance with the formidable Queen Margaret (Viveca Lindfors). All is not well in Spain, for King Phillip III (Romney Brent) is weak, and his diabolical advisor, the Duke de Lorca (Robert Douglas), is far stronger than he appears and far more interested in reviving dreams of conquest than pursuing international peace.

Eight years after The Sea Hawk, Flynn proves that his charm, candor, and swordsmanship are as sharp as ever. Regal of bearing and complex of character, Lindfors is more than worthy of her role as queen and provides the ultimate foil for the film’s amorous yet well-intentioned hero. Brent is quite capable as the less-than-capable king, and Douglas is everything one could ask for in a devious, torture-minded warmonger. Alan Hale, of course, is suitable as Alan Hale, Loyal Sidekick (or Leporello as he is billed in the credits).

Beautifully filmed in vivid color, and masterfully scored by Max Steiner, Adventures of Don Juan is an adventure film with excitement, humor, and surprising depth.

• Writing: Good
• Directing: Great
• Acting: Great
• Cinematography: Good
• Stunts: Great
• Swordplay: Great
• Panache: Great

Overall Rating: Great
Swashbuckling Rank: Great

Prince Valiant (1954) is a fairly faithful adaptation of the venerable comic strip by Hal Foster, Prince Valiant in the Days of King Arthur. As in the comic strip, historical verisimilitude is strained by a plethora of anachronisms (the coexistence of 5th century Britons and 9th-11th century Vikings being one example), but if one can excuse the liberties taken with reality (as any fan of the comic strip surely can), then one is free to enjoy the rollicking adventure that is the film.

The titular protagonist (played by Robert Wagner) is the heir to the throne of a fictional Christian kingdom in Scandinavia. The throne, however, has been usurped, and the royal family, having been granted the protection of King Arthur, now resides in a secret location in Britain. Much of the plot involves Valiant’s passage to knighthood, his efforts to restore his father to the throne, and the awakening of his love for the Princess Aleta (Janet Leigh).

On the whole, it is moderately well acted for a moderately well written screenplay, with the exception of James Mason, who gives a creditable performance as the villain, and Sterling Hayden, who gives an explosively bad performance as Valiant’s mentor, Sir Gawain. The prevalence of American accents in a tale set in mythical Britain may be a mild, but not insurmountable, distraction. Hayden’s interpretation of Sir Gawain as a U.S. Marshall in the Old West, however, is howlingly atrocious to the point of hilarity. Was Hayden even trying to act, or was the resultant comedy deliberate? Did the director, Henry Hathaway, realize that Hayden had been miscast and just told him to do his best, or did he say, “Pretend you’re a cowboy. It will be hilarious!”

Hayden’s colossal ineptitude in the role does not, thankfully, destroy the entire picture. The production values and cinematography are well above average, the pacing is good, and the stunts are plentiful. The jousting scenes are very well executed, the castle siege is an amazing feat of large scale fight choreography depicting many of the aspects of siege warfare, and the climactic trial by combat with swords and shields is truly the highpoint of the film.

If one can forgive the clichés and Hayden’s infractions against the acting profession, one will find Prince Valiant to be a vigorous and entertaining action movie.

• Writing: Fair
• Directing: Fair
• Acting: Mediocre (Sterling Hayden: Terrible; James Mason: Good)
• Cinematography: Good
• Stunts: Great
• Swordplay: Great
• Panache: Fair

Overall Rating: Good
Swashbuckling Rank: Good

Pirates of Tortuga (1961) does not so much revel in swashbuckling clichés as wallow in them. Revelry would at least have indicated an appreciation for the genre. Instead we have a reliance on stereotypes that are as tiresomely executed as they are uninspired. We have the hero of the picture, Bart (or Captain Paxton as he is more commonly addressed), played standoffishly by Ken Scott. We have the wild-mannered yet presumably alluring object of every man’s desire, the pickpocket and self-described actress Meg, played incomprehensibly by Letícia Román. And we have the villain, the rapacious and bloodthirsty pirate (and former governor of Jamaica) Henry Morgan, played with comical fervor by Robert Stephens.

We also have the two plots. In this version of history, Henry Morgan has established a pirate kingdom in Tortuga (instead of answering the summons of King Charles II concerning his sacking of Panama), has blockaded the royal colony of Jamaica for the past year, and has been plundering His Majesty’s merchant ships with impunity. Paxton (or “Bart”) has been given the mission of putting a stop to Henry Morgan’s depredations, and he plans to do so by passing himself off as a pirate so he can better observe the defenses of Morgan’s fortified port. First, however, we must watch him save Meg from the clutches of a butcher who claims she has stolen from him. Paxton, it seems, is both gallant and kindhearted, although both qualities are strained by his desire to cast her overboard when she is discovered on his ship after setting sail. Meg may be the only woman on the ship, but she is not a lady. Nonetheless, the cultured officers of the ship take it upon themselves to tutor her in ladylike manners (cue: comic relief). Suffice it to say, Meg and “Bart” are supposed to fall in love.

Pirates of Tortuga is fraught with the common failings of many other low-grade pirate movies. Accents bear no relationship to region or time period (especially where Letícia Román in concerned). The work of officers, sailors, and gunners has nothing to do with reality and everything to do with incompetent blocking. The fight choreography is a lazy pantomime. The love scenes are a lazy pantomime. The entire movie would have been more entertaining if it really were a pantomime. The only satisfaction a lover of pirate movies will derive from this one is that it ends… eventually.

• Writing: Terrible
• Directing: Poor
• Acting: Terrible
• Cinematography: Mediocre
• Stunts: Poor
• Swordplay: Mediocre
• Panache: Poor

Overall Rating: Poor
Swashbuckling Rank: Poor

Robin and Marian (1976) is a different kind of Robin Hood tale. It is the story of an older Robin Hood, one who left his Marian twenty years ago to follow his king, Richard Lionheart, in the Crusade to free the Holy Land. The film begins with the last siege of Robin’s military career, against a ruined castle with no soldiers to defend it, to appease King Richard’s mad hunger for gold. The setting here is clear. Although Robin Hood is folkloric, the film presents an historical context for his later years, one in which King Richard was a bloody tyrant whose sole concern for England was to bleed her of her wealth to pay for his expeditions (and his ransoms when he was captured) and bleed her of her able-bodied men, most of whom would die in the Crusades far from their native land.

Robin returns to England intent to put the horror and disillusionment of the last two decades behind him and retire, as it were, from the battlefield, but events lead him to return also to his former life as a hero of the oppressed when he learns of the plight of his true love, Marian, who is now the abbess of a convent. Robin is still valiant and idealistic, but alas he is also twenty years older. Fortunately, so is his archenemy, the Sheriff of Nottingham. There is action and adventure aplenty, but the challenges are greater (and perhaps a bit more humorous) when met by men of their age.

Sean Connery gives one of his best performances as a Robin Hood at the end of his career, and Audrey Hepburn gives an equally excellent performance as Marian in a role that had previously never been endowed with so much humanity. Nicol Williamson (who would later play Merlin in Excalibur) gives a sober, subtle performance as Robin’s loyal comrade, Little John. Robert Shaw’s Sheriff of Nottingham is both formidable and approachable as a character with believable motives and discernable virtues even in his opposition to Robin. Richard Harris deserves especial mention for his portrayal of the last king of England to rule before the adoption of the Magna Carta. Harris simmers with the omnipotence and instability of absolute monarchs harkening back to the Roman emperors, and it is his interaction with Robin that best enables the audience to envision the hardship and insanity that consumed twenty years of Robin’s life abroad.

Director Richard Lester once again proves his mettle as one of the greatest directors of period action movies of the 20th century. If this film has a weakness, it is John Barry’s score, which is both unambitious and overwrought.

Although there are moments of levity bordering on swashbuckling parody, Robin and Marian is a serious film that confronts issues of war, religion, class, and, perhaps most of all, love’s endurance.

• Writing: Great
• Directing: Great
• Acting: Great
• Cinematography: Great
• Stunts: Good
• Swordplay: Good
• Panache: Good

Overall Rating: Great
Swashbuckling Rank: Good