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Gaucho

The Gaucho
Rating: ****
Origin: USA, 1928
Director: F. Richard Jones
Source: Kino Video DVD

The Gaucho

The Gaucho was a very different swashbuckler for Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. In his mid-forties by the time he made this film, he could no longer convincingly play the endearingly earnest youthful hero, and besides, such rôles were increasingly passé. By the late ‘20s the vogue was for darker and more openly erotic characters as exemplified by Rudolf Valentino and John Barrymore, the latter of whom had openly challenged Fairbanks on his own turf with Don Juan and The Beloved Rogue. Perhaps it was time for Fairbanks to take a turn as a dangerous Latin lover. At any rate, this seems to have been the thinking behind The Gaucho, in which the hero is a mocking, womanizing, hard-drinking, chain-smoking, bolas-swinging outlaw, a bandit chief known only as—you guessed it—“The Gaucho.” He and his gang come across the Andes and swarm into a mountain town, where the Gaucho finds an ardent young admirer in a fiery local woman, who cuts out a rival by doing a torrid tango with the Gaucho while bound tightly to him by his bolas. This “Mountain Girl” (the only name she’s given) is played with hot salsa by Lupe Velez, better known later in her career as “The Mexican Spitfire,” here in her American film debut.

Meanwhile, a South American comic-opera tyrant named Ruiz has sent his troops to occupy the City of the Miracle, a town built around a holy shrine, to confiscate the wealth brought there by pilgrims, and enslave the poor peasants who depend on the shrine’s generosity. However, the Gaucho has come over the mountains to take that wealth for himself. The bandit chief, disguised in a captured Ruiz trooper uniform, sneaks into the occupied city to scout it out. He reveals himself to test the troops, and a stunt-studded pursuit ensues. After half a dozen films you’d think we’d have seen every aerial trick Douglas Fairbanks could perform, but no—he continues to astound, still doing all his own stunts.

By means of a clever stratagem the Gaucho’s bandits take the city, but when he goes to loot the shrine he meets its beatific holy-virgin-nun-lady, and for the first time feels the power of purity and sanctity. But the Mountain Girl is jealous, the shrine’s loot is in play, Ruiz is on the march, and the pot is soon bubbling over with passion, envy, treachery, and betrayal. The morality play that follows doesn’t go quite the way you might expect, and though the religious aspect gets a bit mawkish, there are some clever twists and turns before it ultimately resolves for the best. (Hey, rogue hero or no, it is still a Doug Fairbanks swashbuckler.)

Interestingly, here we are at almost the end of the silent era, and yet this story—written by Fairbanks, by the way—is told almost entirely with visuals, and sometimes many minutes pass between one cue card and the next. But with this master at the height of his cinematic game, you truly don’t miss the words. Happy discovery: Lupe Velez fights and rides as well as she dances!

By |2018-02-11T17:32:05-05:00December 16, 2017|Cinema of Swords, Ellsworth's Cinema of Swords|Comments Off on Gaucho

Gate of Hell

Gate of Hell
Rating: *****
Origin: Japan, 1953
Director: Teinosuke Kinugasa
Source: Criterion Collection

Gate of Hell

This samurai tragedy is really more of a jidaigeki, a period costume drama, than a chambara, or swordplay movie, though there’s plenty of colorful action in the first third of its running time. Unlike most samurai films, which are usually set during the Shogunate of the 16th-19th centuries, this takes place in the earlier Heian period of the 12th century, when the relationship between the imperial noble class and the samurai warrior class was still evolving. During a military rebellion against the Court, Morito (Kazuo Hasegawa), a fierce fighter, sides with the samurai loyal to the Emperor, and in the chaos is assigned to conduct a diversion, escorting a lady impersonating the Empress in an apparent attempt to escape the rebel soldiers. He succeeds, but in the process is smitten with the beauty, poise, and courage of the lady, Kesa (Machiko Kyo), who performs the imposture. After the battle she disappears, and Morito doesn’t see her again until after the rebellion is put down, when he encounters her by chance, and his feelings are rekindled.

Peace restored, when the samurai who stayed loyal are being rewarded by Lord Kiyomori, Morito asks him for Lady Kesa’s hand, and only then learns that she’s already married to a noble of the Court. Morito, obsessed, vows to win her for himself regardless, and matters quickly go from bad to worse. Director Teinosuke Kinugasa’s pacing is masterful, ratcheting up the tension as the story marches toward its crushing end. This was one of Japan’s first big-budget color films, and even by today’s standards it’s drop-dead gorgeous, exquisite, a painting come to life. Kinugasa deliberately contrasts the serenity of nature with the violence of human emotions, but without judgment or sentimentality, allowing the characters and their actions to speak to the viewer for themselves. And all in eighty-six minutes, without a second wasted. What a treasure.

By |2018-01-02T21:04:26-05:00December 16, 2017|Cinema of Swords, Ellsworth's Cinema of Swords|Comments Off on Gate of Hell

Fortunes of Captain Blood

Fortunes of Captain Blood
Rating: ***
Origin: USA, 1950
Director: Gordon Douglas
Source: Columbia / Sony DVD

Fortunes of Captain Blood

This starts out as a conventional pirate adventure, but takes an unusual turn after Captain Blood (Louis Hayward) learns that six of his crew have been captured and enslaved by the heartless Marquis de Riconete (George Macready). To try to find a way to free them, Blood leaves his ship and the rest of his crew behind and makes his way alone, disguised as a peasant, into the Spanish colonial port town of La Hacha. There, acting much like an undercover detective, he moves through a shadowy world of devious slavers, murderous smugglers, greedy jailers, and desperate women, in a story that feels less like a pirate adventure than a filibuster noir. (See, that’s clever, because “filibuster” is an old word that also used to mean “buccaneer.”)

Though some sources call this a remake of the 1935 Captain Blood, it’s not, it’s based on writer Rafael Sabatini’s The Fortunes of Captain Blood (1936), a collection of six linked short stories about Peter Blood. And in fact, the plot here reflects the sort of tale of betrayal and shifting loyalties Sabatini did so well. But as always in a Sabatini story victory goes to the adroit and clever man who nonetheless never betrays his own code of honor.

Matching the dark tone of the story, when violence breaks out it’s hard and brutal, unusually so for the Hollywood of 1950. The escape from the prison feels genuinely dangerous. Likewise, the final confrontation at sea between Blood’s ship, trapped in a bay, and the marquis’s much larger galleon, takes some sharp and unexpected turns—thanks, once again, to ideas borrowed from Sabatini. Thus, despite the slow start in La Hacha, this film pays off handsomely in the end.

By |2018-01-02T21:05:02-05:00December 16, 2017|Cinema of Swords, Ellsworth's Cinema of Swords|Comments Off on Fortunes of Captain Blood

Flame and the Arrow

The Flame and the Arrow
Rating: ****
Origin: USA, 1950
Director: Jacques Tourneur
Source: Warner Bros. DVD

The Flame and the Arrow

Here’s an overlooked gem, or at least a semi-precious stone. It’s set in northern Italy in the 12th century, when the mountains of Lombardy were occupied by the Germans of Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. A mountain town ruled by the brutal Count Ulrich of Hesse, known as the Hawk (Frank Allenby), is thrilled by the return of its favorite son, the carefree hunter and crack archer Dardo (Burt Lancaster). The townspeople try to persuade Dardo to join their plans to resist the Hessians, but Dardo says he depends on no one but himself, and says he’s “not out to right anybody’s wrongs but my own.” Well, we know he won’t be singing that selfish tune for long when collective action is called for, especially since this film is written by Waldo Salt, who’s about to be blacklisted in the imminent McCarthy era when he refuses to testify before the House Un-American Activities Committee. Time to join the revolution, Comrade Dardo!

The personal wrong that Dardo’s out to right is that he has a five-year-old son, Rudi, whom he’s raising alone because his wife left him to become the Hawk’s mistress. After Dardo, for the doubtful benefit of Rudi, publicly humiliates his mother in front of the Hawk, Count Ulrich decides to take Rudi by force into the castle and raise him as a Hessian. And thus begins the cycle of kidnappings, raids, and escapes that make up the action of the rest of the picture, as Dardo comes to assume the leadership of the anti-Hessian resistance.

The script is quite good, sharp without ever getting too dark, and with some clever byplay that almost justifies the romance between Dardo and the Hawk’s niece Lady Anne (Virginia Mayo), whom Dardo kidnaps in a bid to trade her for Rudi. Lancaster rules the screen with his infectious grin and the twinkle in his eye, and he’s an even more athletic swashbuckler than his obvious model, Douglas Fairbanks, Sr., because he performs his lithe acrobatics with a virile muscularity Doug Sr. couldn’t match. The director’s chair is capably filled by Jacques Tourneur, who keeps things light, bright, and quick until the final confrontation in a darkened castle hall, staged with some of his signature moody lighting and artistic angles. Top it off with a score by Max Steiner, and you’ve got a very satisfying ninety minutes.

By |2018-02-11T17:31:23-05:00December 16, 2017|Cinema of Swords, Ellsworth's Cinema of Swords|Comments Off on Flame and the Arrow
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