
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.