I hope that whoever took my tulips did so out of a sincere appreciation for their beauty.

There are good points, such as the interviews with legendary fight choreographer Bob Anderson and actor Viggo Mortensen, but they should have been longer. An entire documentary could focus on Anderson alone and his contributions to, and observations about, swordplay in motion pictures. The subject of the loss and rebirth of the European martial arts traditions is certainly worth another documentary, which could discuss in greater detail the authors of the various instruction manuals of the Renaissance and show the progress that has been made in relearning these forgotten combat techniques in a more comprehensive and systematic manner than the MTV-style editing and camerawork favored by writer/director Daniel McNicoll. The forging of swords, in history and the present, also lends itself to a documentary of its own.

Reclaiming the Blade is flawed, and I would prefer to see its subjects explored by more serious, scholarly, and experienced filmmakers, but it has its merits if one is willing to see past the dross.

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 off a balcony.

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

Overall Rating: Mediocre
Swashbuckling Rank: Fair

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

The Academy Awards mean nothing to me. My own choices for Best Motion Picture are Hugo and Win Win (and possibly The Artist, which I intend to see this week). Speaking of The Artist, I think it’s wonderful that a silent movie — a silent movie! — can gain widespread publicity and appreciation in the year 2011. Lillian Gish would undoubtedly be pleased. And speaking of silent movies, I am keenly interested in the release of the newly restored Le voyage dans la lune (A Trip to the Moon), that 1902 masterpiece of filmmaking by the great Georges Méliès. Over the last few years, it has been shown only in black & white, but the original film was actually in full color, each frame of which had been painted by hand. Sometime in the 1990s, a color print was discovered and subsequently restored, and it was finally shown to audiences at the Cannes Film Festival this year complete with a score composed and performed by Air (whose CD of the soundtrack will be released on 7 February along with a special edition that I believe includes a DVD of the restored film itself). This is not to be missed.

Music for January and February: Gerry Mulligan, Bill Evans, the Bothy Band, Highland pipes & drums, Edith Piaf.