Cuparia

The Adventures of Robin Hood from 1938 is a film that owes its reputation, I believe, to faulty memories. This is a film I would like to like. But I can’t. It ought to be a great film. But it isn’t. Errol Flynn as Robin Hood and Basil Rathbone as Sir Guy of Gisbourne are both excellent in their roles, and the legend of Robin Hood is rich with possibilities for tales of adventure, romance, treachery, and heroism. Alas, this version is a drudgery to behold, nay, a torture. Claude Rains’ talent as a general anaesthetic permeates the film until the last scene. Flynn may be charming as the hero, but the combat scenes defy believability even for swashbuckling fare. (No, that type of fencing did not exist in 12th Century England, and they didn’t use swords of that sort.) I’m sure the garish Technicolor was dazzling in its day, but the film never gives one a sense of place other than that of a Hollywood set. The writing is unforgivably bland, the directing is uninspired, and the all-around inferior quality of the acting is a sad consequence of both. Somehow, though, Flynn’s panache shines through the dismal shambles in which he finds himself, and perhaps it is this alone that has contributed to this film’s undeserved status as a classic. At all other levels, one can’t help thinking it could have been done better — much better.

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

Overall Rating: Mediocre
Swashbuckling Rank: Fair Good

The Legend of Zorro (2005) is another example of the sequel that ought never to have been made. I ought to enjoy writing a review that eviscerates a film so deserving of it, for bad reviews are invariably more enjoyable both to write and to read, but in this case, I am merely tired. I am tired of seeing capable actors lowering themselves to reciting lines as if they were bored prostitutes. I am tired of screenplays that are nothing more than toothpick sculptures built to support a few over-budgeted stunts and script-doctored catch phrases with a bit of family-safe sentimental tinsel draped over it. I am also tired of unconvincing and uninteresting villains, which is a flaw that was present in its predecessor, The Mask of Zorro (1998), but which is even more egregious in this film. Without going into painful, fruitless detail, I will merely state that this is a disappointing and yawn-inducing film that seems better suited for the small screen with commercial interruptions, extended snack breaks, and serving as background noise as one makes unnecessary telephone calls or works on a crossword puzzle. If my attention had been more profitably engaged in such activities, I might not have detested this film quite as much.

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

Overall Rating: Mediocre
Swashbuckling Rank: Mediocre

The Mask of Zorro from 1998 could almost have been titled, The Unofficially Adopted Son of Zorro. It doesn’t quite have the same ring, but that is essentially what it is. Anthony Hopkins plays Don Diego this time, carrying out what he believes will be his last adventure as Zorro, hero to the people. Without giving away too much of the plot, the film eventually jumps ahead in time, and we get to see the training of the Zorro who will replace him, Alejandro Murietta, played by Antonio Banderas.

Hopkins and Banderas are both quite good as the two Zorros. Their characters have greater weight than those in earlier Zorro films, and although stunt doubles undoubtedly performed the more difficult stunts, they convey a convincing air of capability and confidence. As with earlier incarnations, there is a sufficient amount of humor and plenty of exciting swordplay. The training of the younger Zorro, in particular, provides some of the most memorable dialogue and action of the entire film.

I referred to Banderas’ character as the “unofficially adopted son” of Zorro, since he becomes Don Diego’s pupil, but in this film Don Diego actually has a daughter, Elena, played by Catherine Zeta-Jones. Elena is a challenging love interest for Alejandro, as she believes she is the daughter of Don Rafael Montero, Zorro’s archenemy (played by Stuart Wilson). Zeta-Jones is an excellent choice for the role, and this time the leading lady knows how wield a sword, which is a pleasing change of pace.

The downside is that the villains are not as interesting as the heroes, and that’s a pity. There is no one with the intensity and aura of danger that Basil Rathbone possessed in The Mark of Zorro (1940). There isn’t even a villain with the comic relief factor. No, the villains are boring, and that is the major flaw of the film. As a consequence, its action-packed climax is rather tedious, clichéd, and fails to live up to the expectations raised by its beginning and middle. It is the weakness of the villains that makes this a lopsided film — a good film, but nonetheless lopsided.

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

Overall Rating: Good
Swashbuckling Rank: Great

The Mark of Zorro from 1940 probably has the best fencing scenes of any Zorro film before or since. With Tyrone Power as Don Diego Vega/Zorro, and Basil Rathbone as the film’s leading villain, Captain Esteban Pasquale, this should come as no surprise, as they constituted two-thirds of the trinity of Hollywood’s greatest swordsmen at the time (Errol Flynn being the third). The climactic scene of the film is a breathtaking display of swordsmanship and drama as the two enemies duel, and it stands as one of the greatest single scenes in the history of swashbuckling films. In the tradition of its greatest forebearers, stunt doubles were neither used nor required in the fencing scenes.

In some ways, the film is standard Hollywood fare, although not offensively so. It manages to be inventive and spirited, despite a reliance on certain predictable conventions. Eugene Pallette, playing Fray Felipe, unfortunately reprises his role as Friar Tuck from 1938′s The Adventures of Robin Hood, which is perhaps the worst of the film’s imperfections. J. Edward Bromberg’s portrayal of the corrupt Don Luis Quintero, the despotic Alcalde, is a bit on the clownish side, but manages to be adequate.

The romantic scenes are a great improvement over the film’s silent predecessor, with Linda Darnell giving a fine performance as Lolita Quintero; the stunts are impressive without being over-the-top; and the banter is witty, but not distractingly so. All in all, it is an excellent bit of escapism, and the fencing is unforgettable.

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

Overall Rating: Good
Swashbuckling Rank: Great