This is a rewatch, and one of my favorite swashbucklers. Based on Sabatini’s 1921 novel of the same name, Scaramouche is a shameless swashbuckler in the classic studio mode. Clearly a descendant of Errol Flynn films like Captain Blood, the movie tells the story of André Moreau, the bastard son of a nobleman in late 18th century France. Much less political than its source material, Scaramouche is part revenge story, part romance, with some Commedia dell’arte thrown in for good measure.
Everything in this film works for me. Stewart Granger is like a strange cross between Flynn and Bruce Campbell, which works perfectly for the role, and his chemistry with Eleanor Parker is fantastic. Janet Leigh doesn’t have much to do, but looks gorgeous. And Mel Ferrer is oddly affecting as the villainous Marquis de Maynes, making him a bit more human than a Rathbone-esque villain has any right to be.
It’s also interesting to watch the way the filmmakers used certain techniques, mainstream at the time but almost gone now. Janet Leigh’s soft-focus close-ups, of which there are many, are almost jarring to a modern eye, though you see them all the time in films of the period. The art direction is also clearly working hard to earn the “glorious” in “glorious Technicolor”: everything is vivid almost to garishness.
That said, it really doesn’t date too badly. The story is engaging, and well-written. The dialogue is touched with “Hollywood Period” touches, but not obnoxiously so, and the swordfighting is delightfully theatrical. (The final duel still holds, to my knowledge, the distinction of the longest onscreen swordfight, at nearly seven minutes long.)
What Scaramouche really gets right, overall, is choosing what sort of movie it will be and committing to it. It wasn’t designed to win Oscars, it was designed to entertain, and it does that in spades. In this way, it reminds me of the first Pirates of the Carribbean movie – we don’t speak of the sequels – in that it marries a romance and an adventure into one fast-paced, witty popcorn movie.
The gender roles are, of course, a little problematic now. Leigh’s Aline has a bit of pluck, but is mainly decorative. Parker’s Leonore is much more interesting, but is an actress of loose morals, which of course can’t be rewarded. That said, I’ve always felt he ends up with the wrong love interest, especially as he spends most of the movie convinced Aline is his sister (yes, I know). The love triangle is very different from the novel’s, and the final joke (Lenore ends up with Napoleon) doesn’t do much to assuage the sense of mis-match.
Whatever the failings of the romance, however, the adventure is first rate. Master fencer de Maynes kills Moreau’s best friend in front of him. Moreau swears revenge, and sets out to become de Maynes’ equal with a foil to carry out his plan. In the meantime, he becomes a comedic star of the stage, finds himself drawn into politics, and discovers the truth about his own parentage. It’s wonderfully melodramatic, and handled just right.
Besides Pirates, the best modern analogue I can think of is 1998’s The Mask of Zorro. But I wonder, without the studio system backing them, how many modern swashbucklers will continue to be made. Between the deadly seriousness of films like Robin Hood and the idiocy of Pirates of the Carribbean: At World’s End, I’m a bit skeptical that most modern studios or directors have a sense of why these movies were (and are) so much fun.
That said, I’m not without hope. As well as both Mask of Zorro and the Pirates franchise have done at the box office, maybe someone will continue tinkering until they figure out what makes it work and why. Maybe we’ll find our generation’s Errol Flynn. I’ll confess, I would be completely thrilled.
Grade: B+ The best of what classic Hollywood popcorn fare can offer.
The Exploding Macguffin 