Director: Martin Campbell
Cast: Antonio Banderas (Alejandro Murrieta/Zorro), Anthony
Hopkins (Don Diego de la Vega/Zorro), Catherine Zeta Jones (Elena Montero),
Stuart Wilson (Don Rafael Montero), Matt Letscher (Captain Harrison Love), Tony
Amendola (Don Luiz), Pedro Armendáriz Jnr (Don Pedro), LQ Jones (Three Fingered
Jack), Julieta Rosen (Esperanza De La Vega), Maury Chaykin (Prison Warden)
Zorro is a classic, musketeers/Robin Hood style hero from
the old school. A dashing, duelling nobleman who battles the cruel rich to save
the struggling poor. It’s the formula of a thousand post-war B-movies. The
great thing about that formula is the sense of fun around them is already there
– a decent film can capture it. And The
Mask of Zorro manages to be lot more than just a decent film.
In 1821, as the Spanish leave California, Don Rafael Montero
(Stuart Wilson) sets a trap to defeat his arch-nemesis Zorro (Anthony Hopkins).
Knowing his real identity is Don Diego de la Vega, Montero throws de la Vega
into prison after accidentally killing his wife (the woman they both loved) and
kidnapping de la Vega’s daughter to raise as his own. Twenty years later, de la
Vega escapes just as Montero returns to California to steal its resources. De
la Vega teams up with Alejandro Murrieta (Antonio Banderas), a young bandit
hungry for revenge. Taking him under his wing, he trains him as the new Zorro –
though both have conflicted feelings when de la Vega’s daughter Elena
(Catherine Zeta-Jones) arrives, knowing nothing of her true heritage.
Few films have captured the magic, Errol Flynn-style thrills
of old-school Hollywood swashbuckling as well as The Mask of Zorro. Characters swoop and tumble, and swords swish
and clash. It sounds odd to say, but the sound design for the sword fights is
amazing, each clash has a metallic, ringing clarity that sounds incredibly
cool. Match that with the fact that all five of the principals have clearly
spent their time in sword school, and you’ve got pure, sword-clashing
entertainment.
The plot also keeps things simple. The story is a fairly
straight forward heroic revenge drama, with more than a touch of The Count of Monte Cristo (de la Vega’s
prison escape is pure Dumas, while Murrieta disguising himself as a rich don to
destroy his enemies from within is straight out of Cristo’s playbook). We also
have (in another Monte Cristo touch)
the Pygmalion mentor-pupil
relationship, with de la Vega tutoring Murrieta not only in sword play, but
also the manners of a gentleman. The villain’s plot is not exactly clearly
explained (it has something to do with stealing Mexican gold to buy California
from the Mexicans) but fortunately (a) the film doesn’t really spend too much
time worrying about it and (b) since the plot involves enslavement and ruthless
murder, it hardly matters anyway as their villainous credentials are very well
established.
As the young Zorro, Banderas (at the height of his roguish
charm) is very fine, giving it just the right balance of cocksure confidence and
playful exuberance. He also weights the character with a genuine love for his
murdered brother, which expands as the film progresses into a sincere empathy
for the poor and downtrodden. He also has great chemistry with Zeta-Jones
(basically establishing her career here) – they meet in no less than three
guises, and with each the romantic spark is exceptional. The famous foreplay
sword-fight scene (culminating with Murrieta using precise strokes to remove
Elena’s top) works because their sword fight is not only playful, but their
romantic interest and mutual respect is clear.
Anthony Hopkins also relishes the chance to take an action
role (it’s quite something to think he was nearly 60 at the time of filming).
Sure, not all the stunts are him of course – and he had to have a generous
application of fake tan to give him a Spanish appearance – but the performance
works because Hopkins gives it a perfect playful charm, while never losing the
sight of the pain under de la Vega’s surface. He gives a lot of weight to what
could otherwise have been a straight “mentor role”.
Campbell directs all this with a brisk, old-school
simplicity – the film has a true 1930s swashbuckling feel to it. It’s not
exactly the last word in exciting film making, but it doesn’t have to be. The
important thing Campbell understands here is keeping the pace up, and presenting
us with something fun or exciting (or both) every scene. So whether it is a
decent gag, a piece of cool looking sleight of hand (de la Vega using a whip to
extinguish candles from a distance) or the clash of swords, something always
keeps you entertained.
When you match that with some performances you’ve got a
great piece of Sunday afternoon entertainment. It’s possibly a bit too long,
and Wilson’s Rafael (while in some ways an interesting, conflicted character)
is never really allowed the space to become an effective counterpoint to the
heroes. But despite that, it offers more than enough entertainment, excitement
and fun. It’s got a decent, fun script with plenty of good lines, and by
keeping the focus on a small core cast it really allows us to bond with those
characters. It lacks a certain undefinable quality that makes it a beloved film,
but it has enough to make it a welcome guest whenever it comes round.
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