Cuparia » Films

Swashbuckler (1976) Reviewed

Cuparius — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 20:38:39 +0000

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

Adventures of Don Juan (1948) Reviewed

Cuparius — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 21:33:06 +0000

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) Reviewed

Cuparius — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 20:59:26 +0000

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) Reviewed

Cuparius — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 20:36:39 +0000

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) Reviewed

Cuparius — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 16:57:22 +0000

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

The Iron Mask (1929) Reviewed

Cuparius — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 17:47:43 +0000

The Iron Mask of 1929 is a sequel to Douglas Fairbanks, Sr.’s The Three Musketeers of 1921. It is also his last silent feature, although it includes a brief introduction and intermission in sound. Like its predecessor, its production values are of the highest order with lavish sets, an enormous cast of extras, and a heartfelt dedication to verisimilitude as demonstrated by a declaration in the credits that “This entire production was under the supervision of Maurice Leloir, Member of the Society of French Artists, illustrator of ‘The Three Musketeers,’ the acknowledged authority on the period depicted.” No expense seems to have been spared to bring that period to life.

The Iron Mask covers a greater span of time as well as a greater span of joy and sorrow. Based on events in Alexandre Dumas’ novels The Three Musketeers and The Man in the Iron Mask, the film begins in 1638 with the birth of the future king of France, Louis XIV, and ends 24 years later. It begins also with D’Artagnan’s love for Constance and the loyalty of four friends that even death cannot sever. Fairbanks’ acting skills have noticeably matured just as his D’Artagnan matures, and the tragedy from which the audience was spared in 1921 is finally played out midway through the picture probably to better effect.

The sombre moments are fittingly counterbalanced with most of the best swashbuckling elements: romance, espionage, derring-do, and high-spirited (and humorous) carousing. There is, perhaps, a little less swordplay than might be expected, primarily occurring in the middle and climax of the film, but swordplay itself is less the focus of a Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. movie than the acrobatics and physical shenanigans he integrates into any action sequence.

Solid performances are given by Rolfe Sedan as Louis XIII, Belle Bennett as the Queen Mother (an improvement over Mary MacLaren’s portrayal), and Dorothy Revier as Milady de Winter. Nigel De Brulier reprises his role as Cardinal Richelieu perhaps a little more convincingly, and Marguerite De La Motte reprises her role as Constance Bonacieux quite capably. The weak link in this film is William Bakewell’s dual performance as Louis XIV and his twin brother. Although the former is rendered somewhat more sympathetically than the historical inspiration, the latter is reduced to the equivalent of a moustache-twirling villain of the type who ties damsels to railroad tracks (or would if trains had existed in 17th century France). This is disappointing, but it is not enough of a flaw to ruin the totality of the picture.

In the end, it is a lovingly crafted adieu to an era, and at the same time it is “The Beginning” of the next, which would soon see the rise of Errol Flynn.

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

Overall Rating: Good
Swashbuckling Rank: Good

Royal Flash (1975) Reviewed

Cuparius — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 00:23:52 +0000

Royal Flash (1975) is what a good swashbuckling spoof ought to be: a ripping adventure punctuated by genuinely comedic moments that are presented in context. Director Richard Lester is a master at melding those elements without sacrificing the integrity of the setting (thus preserving the audience’s willing suspension of disbelief, which is always a virtue in the genre of swashbuckling escapism). Royal Flash also manages to be a satire on that swashbuckling classic, The Prisoner of Zenda, by reimagining it as having been inspired by events in the life of Harry Flashman (Malcolm McDowell), a questionable war hero self-described as “a scoundrel, a liar, a cheat, a thief, a coward—and, oh yes, a toady.”* Both the screenplay and the novel upon which it is based, The Flashman Papers, were written by George MacDonald Fraser.

Beautifully filmed and directed, Royal Flash is equally satisfying as a comedy and as a swashbuckling adventure (albeit with an anti-hero for a protagonist).

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

Overall Rating: Great
Swashbuckling Rank: Great

* Fraser, George MacDonald. Flashman.

The Three Musketeers (1939) Reviewed

Cuparius — Tue, 07 Jun 2011 19:19:04 +0000

The Three Musketeers of 1939 is a musical comedy that is musically impaired and comedically challenged. Don Ameche imbues the role of D’Artagnan with an earnest enthusiasm that does little to counterbalance his utter mediocrity. The three musketeers of the title’s fame are stiff caricatures who appear briefly for the purpose of enabling the Ritz Brothers, who are cooks at an inn, to be mistaken for them by D’Artagnan and everyone else. It bears a closer resemblance to a stock Three Stooges short than a feature-length comedy, and could have benefited immensely from some ruthless pruning. Some of the comedy routines are humorous enough to elicit laughter, but there are too many instances where the plot of the novel weighs the movie down too heavily to allow it to fly to greater heights of absurdity and originality, which really should have been the filmmakers’ aim if they wanted to create a parody lasting more than 30 minutes. The music is something more to be endured than enjoyed, which is all the more unfortunate for the frequency with which it is inflicted on the viewer. The movie’s saving grace is Binnie Barnes, who plays Milady, and although she shines in the role in its comedic incarnation, it would have been fascinating to see her reprise it in a serious adaptation.

Writing: Poor
Directing: Fair
Acting: Fair
Cinematography: Good
Musical Numbers: Poor
Comedy Routines: Fair
Stunts: Fair
Swordplay: Poor
Panache: Mediocre

Overall Rating: Mediocre
Swashbuckling Rank: Mediocre

The Prisoner of Zenda (1937) Reviewed

Cuparius — Fri, 27 May 2011 21:24:05 +0000

The Prisoner of Zenda (1937) is a superlative example of the cinematic swashbuckler removed from the traditional period setting, for it takes place neither in the golden age of swashbuckling (the 15th through 18th centuries) nor even in an actual place. Based on the popular 1894 novel by Anthony Hope, it is situated firmly in the mid to late 19th century in the fictional European country of Ruritania. It is a tale of royal intrigue, adventure, and love, with the central theme of a protagonist who is forced to assume the identity of another. Ronald Colman has the dual role of Rudolf Rassendyll, an Englishman, and his identical cousin, the future king of Ruritania. In both roles, Coleman shines without overpowering his scenes. Rarely, in fact, does one see so well-balanced a job of casting. C. Aubrey Smith and David Niven are exceptional as the king’s friends and advisors; Raymond Massey is excellent as Black Michael, the king’s brother and nemesis; Mary Astor is equally suitable as Antoinette de Mauban, Black Michael’s inamorata; and Madeleine Carroll gives a performance of sublime yet understated beauty as Princess Flavia, the Prisoner of Zenda’s betrothed. It is Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., however, who gives perhaps the most stunning performance as a quintessential swashbuckler who is a villain. As Rupert of Hentzau, Fairbanks crackles with energy and ensures that no encounter will be dull. In all ways, he provides a perfect clash of personality and arms with the less flamboyant — but no less decisive — English gentleman. Nominated for two Academy Awards (Best Art Direction and Best Music, Score), it honestly deserved greater recognition in other categories as well. The Prisoner of Zenda, as an adventure, as a romance, and as a drama (with a healthy amount of humor), stands as one of the greatest swashbuckling movies of its time or any other era.

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

Overall Rating: Great
Swashbuckling Rank: Great

The Three Musketeers (1948) Reviewed

Cuparius — Fri, 20 May 2011 20:56:08 +0000

The Three Musketeers from 1948 is neither the best nor the worst of all the film adaptations of Alexandre Dumas’ classic swashbuckling epic. As an adaptation of the novel itself, it is colorful, lively, and ambitious, but it is also a clumsy adaptation in the standard Hollywood tradition. Moments that are meant to loom large both in plot and dramatic impact are instead rushed and reduced. The moments where it lingers longest are overwrought and paradoxically (though unintentionally) invite detachment rather than empathy. The casting choices promise more than they deliver. Vincent Price would seem to be made for the role of Cardinal Richelieu, but his portrayal seems as flat as the script. Frank Morgan as Louis XIII carries himself more like a befuddled shopkeeper than a king, Angela Lansbury as Queen Anne could be any unhappy housewife, and the titular trio could be any group of boisterous, well-intentioned fops despite the moderately tortured posturings of Van Heflin’s Athos. Lana Turner falls short of embodying the evil for which Lady de Winter is infamous, which is a serious shortcoming for so important an antagonist. The film’s greatest asset is Gene Kelly as D’Artagnan in what must have been a conscious attempt to mimic Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. in the same role in 1921. In fact, the film succeeds most where it attempts to adapt its 1921 predecessor rather than the novel. Kelly’s D’Artagnan is essentially Fairbanks’ D’Artagnan with sound and color, just as dynamic physically and comically, and just as prone to melodramatic telegraphy. With a better screenplay, this 1948 version of The Three Musketeers could have been — and ought to have been — much more than a one-man show.

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

Overall Rating: Fair
Swashbuckling Rank: Good