ONHOMETHEATER.COM"Movies" Archives

November 1, 2003

 

The Mark of Zorro


The Mark of Zorro on DVD

Zorro, Johnston McCulley's Southern California Robin Hood, has proved to be a character that has repeatedly fascinated audiences since his first appearance in the pages of All-Story Weekly in 1919.

It's not so much the originality of the character, which seemed to draw equally upon the Robin Hood legends and The Scarlet Pimpernel, nor was it the lapidary-like prose of McCulley who, although an energetic plot-generating engine, wrote like a paid-by-the-word pulp hack. (Yes, I know that there was some great writing in the pulps -- Hamett and Chandler and all that -- but most of the prose in those rags was awful.) No, the real reason that Zorro has resonated through all those years is that the character has proven irresistible to a broad range of dashing, incredibly magnetic actors: Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. (1920), Reed Hadley (1939), Clayton Moore (1949), Guy Williams (1957), Frank Langella (1974), Alain Delon (1974), Antonio Banderas (1998), and, perhaps the greatest of them all, Tyrone Power, who starred in 1940's The Mark of Zorro.

The Mark of Zorro was partially a response to the immensely successful 1938 Michael Curtiz-directed Errol Flynn vehicle, The Adventures of Robin Hood, which also featured Basil Rathbone as the true villain and frog-voiced Eugene Pallette as a bellicose friar. Some folks will argue that Zorro uses Robin Hood too literally as a template, but I'm not one of them. I admire both films and, while I think Curtiz had more flair than Zorro's Rouben Mamoulian, that could be said of most directors.

The Mark of Zorro has several things going for it. The plot isn't deep -- consider the source -- but the film deepens Don Diego de la Vega's back story, showing him as the most dashing and accomplished officer in Seville before returning to California and discovering that his father (Montagu Love) has been deposed as alcalde of Los Angeles by the corrupt, greedy, poltroon Don Luis Quintero (J. Edward Bromberg) and his cruel henchman, Captain Pasquale (Basil Rathbone).

Outraged by the rampant injustice, cruel taxes, and oppression of the peons he witnesses on his trip home, Diego instinctively assumes the role of the twittish popinjay Captain Pasquale takes him to be. At night, however, he dons the black garb and mask of Zorro, protector of the downtrodden.

The film's biggest asset is Tyrone Power, who plays the dandyish Diego with relish and brings all the necessary dash and grace to the title character. Power looks fantastic in the form-fitting costumes of the era (some wags of the era claimed he had the best ass in Hollywood; be that as it may, he was a prime hunk of beefcake) and his epic swordplay with Rathbone stands -- along with Flynn's climactic battle with him in Robin Hood -- among the very finest fights ever filmed.

Arthur C. Miller filmed Zorro in dramatic black and white, and it makes the most of the contrast between the sun-drenched world of Don Diego and the deep shadows and darkness of the world of Zorro. Even if you aren't a fan of B&W films, this is one where the chiaroscuro works impressively well -- don't miss it just because B&W is "dull."

The character actors are all superb. Rathbone, as usual, is magnetic, but everyone involved gives top-notch performances, even extremely "minor" characters.

The DVD includes commentary by Richard Schickle, which provides a wealth of details and anecdotes. One of my favorites: Power, chafing under his studio's insistence that he play swashbuckling roles rather than the "serious" acting he felt was his métier, filmed a take of the scene where Zorro put his trademark Z on a stagecoach cushion, complete with the ad lib, "Z stands for Zanuck!"

Another "bonus feature" is an episode from A&E's Biography devoted to Power.

The Mark of Zorro is great fun and 20th Century Fox has done it up right as a DVD. If your swashes need buckling, this is the movie you want to watch.

...Wes Phillips
wes@onhometheater.com


ONHOMETHEATER.COMAll Contents Copyright © 2003
Schneider Publishing Inc., All Rights Reserved.
Any reproduction of content on
this site without permission is strictly forbidden.