"Fudging Blades: Swashbuckling Combat for Fudge!" (from SpiritMusketeer's Blog) is a simple swashbuckling combat system for Fudge by Thijs Krijger and Jay Shaffstall with help from François Letarte. It lacks the detail of simulationist fencing rules, but it appears to be relatively fast-paced. It looks promising.
[This article has been cross-posted here in Creative Reckoning.]
One of the most entertaining courtships in the history of swashbuckling films is that of Tyrone Power as buccaneer Jamie Waring and Maureen O'Hara as Lady Margaret Denby in 1942's The Black Swan. Although opposites attract (and socially they could scarcely be in greater opposition), they are far more similar in temperament, which leads to an amusing tug of war amongst the backdrop of warring pirates and privateers in the Caribbean during the reign of William III in England and Captain Henry Morgan in Jamaica. The fencing is excellent, as can be expected with Tyrone Power in the lead, although it suffers in at least one scene from the film having been unnecessarily sped up, which is certainly dismaying for those who appreciate Power's swordsmanship. Beautifully filmed and scored, The Black Swan ranks as one of the genre's enduring classics.
Writing: Good
Prince Valiant (1954) is a fairly faithful adaptation of the venerable comic strip by Hal Foster, Prince Valiant in the Days of King Arthur. As in the comic strip, historical verisimilitude is strained by a plethora of anachronisms (the coexistence of 5th century Britons and 9th-11th century Vikings being one example), but if one can excuse the liberties taken with reality (as any fan of the comic strip surely can), then one is free to enjoy the rollicking adventure that is the film.
The titular protagonist (played by Robert Wagner) is the heir to the throne of a fictional Christian kingdom in Scandinavia. The throne, however, has been usurped, and the royal family, having been granted the protection of King Arthur, now resides in a secret location in Britain. Much of the plot involves Valiant's passage to knighthood, his efforts to restore his father to the throne, and the awakening of his love for the Princess Aleta (Janet Leigh).
On the whole, it is moderately well acted for a moderately well written screenplay, with the exception of James Mason, who gives a creditable performance as the villain, and Sterling Hayden, who gives an explosively bad performance as Valiant's mentor, Sir Gawain. The prevalence of American accents in a tale set in mythical Britain may be a mild, but not insurmountable, distraction. Hayden's interpretation of Sir Gawain as a U.S. Marshall in the Old West, however, is howlingly atrocious to the point of hilarity. Was Hayden even trying to act, or was the resultant comedy deliberate? Did the director, Henry Hathaway, realize that Hayden had been miscast and just told him to do his best, or did he say, "Pretend you're a cowboy. It will be hilarious!"
Hayden's colossal ineptitude in the role does not, thankfully, destroy the entire picture. The production values and cinematography are well above average, the pacing is good, and the stunts are plentiful. The jousting scenes are very well executed, the castle siege is an amazing feat of large scale fight choreography depicting many of the aspects of siege warfare, and the climactic trial by combat with swords and shields is truly the highpoint of the film.
If one can forgive the clichés and Hayden's infractions against the acting profession, one will find Prince Valiant to be a vigorous and entertaining action movie.
Writing: Fair1. Post more gaming content.
2. Finish watching the second season of Zorro, the Disney television show.
3. Start watching Zorro, the new Prime television show in Spanish.
4. Continue reading the original Zorro stories by Johnston McCulley.
5. Play more swashbuckling board games, war games, and role-playing games.
6. Rewatch and review Richard Lester's The Three Musketeers (1973) and The Four Musketeers (1974).
The Prisoner of Zenda (1937) is a superlative example of the cinematic swashbuckler removed from the traditional period setting, for it takes place neither in the golden age of swashbuckling (the 15th through 18th centuries) nor even in an actual place. Based on the popular 1894 novel by Anthony Hope, it is situated firmly in the mid to late 19th century in the fictional European country of Ruritania. It is a tale of royal intrigue, adventure, and love, with the central theme of a protagonist who is forced to assume the identity of another. Ronald Colman has the dual role of Rudolf Rassendyll, an Englishman, and his identical cousin, the future king of Ruritania. In both roles, Coleman shines without overpowering his scenes. Rarely, in fact, does one see so well-balanced a job of casting. C. Aubrey Smith and David Niven are exceptional as the king's friends and advisors; Raymond Massey is excellent as Black Michael, the king's brother and nemesis; Mary Astor is equally suitable as Antoinette de Mauban, Black Michael's inamorata; and Madeleine Carroll gives a performance of sublime yet understated beauty as Princess Flavia, the Prisoner of Zenda's betrothed. It is Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., however, who gives perhaps the most stunning performance as a quintessential swashbuckler who is a villain. As Rupert of Hentzau, Fairbanks crackles with energy and ensures that no encounter will be dull. In all ways, he provides a perfect clash of personality and arms with the less flamboyant—but no less decisive—English gentleman. Nominated for two Academy Awards (Best Art Direction and Best Music, Score), it honestly deserved greater recognition in other categories as well. The Prisoner of Zenda, as an adventure, as a romance, and as a drama (with a healthy amount of humor), stands as one of the greatest swashbuckling movies of its time or any other era.
Writing: Good
What would happen if you combined a film adaptation of the greatest swashbuckling epic of all time, Alexandre Dumas' The Three Musketeers, with a Chinese kung fu flick? Apparently the makers of The Musketeer (2001) asked such a question, and the answer is nothing good.
The stunts, which are likely the reason (or excuse) for the film being made at all, are intended to awe and amuse the audience, but merely bore with their ridiculousness. There are two basic schools of martial arts films. One emphasizes the true physical mastery of the martial artist (such as Bruce Lee or Tony Jaa); the other emphasizes the martial artist as a fantasy hero, with wires to enable the characters to perform superhuman feats and various techniques to convey superhuman speed and agility. The greatest swashbuckling movies, for the most part, can count themselves as kin to the first type of martial arts movie, going all the way back to the derring-do of Douglas Fairbanks, with stunts that were all the more shocking for their audacity because they were real. In much the same way that one is astounded by the skill and courage of trapeze artists, the best of the classic swashbuckling films had actors who did all their own fencing, climbing, leaping, diving, chandelier-swinging, and precipice-balancing. Replace all that with wires, stunt doubles, and very careful editing, and you rip the soul out of swashbuckling. And you get The Musketeer.
The inappropriate stylings of stunt choreographer Xin Xin Xiong aside, The Musketeer manages to reduce its greatest strength, its source material, to a bland and predictable tale of revenge, halfheartedly and wearily performed by its better actors (Catherine Deneuve) and woodenly performed by its lesser actors (the rest of the cast). Characters who had a richness of complexity are impoverished by the writers to a state of two-dimensionality that could have been just as easily fulfilled by cardboard standees. Whether assessed as an adaptation or revision of The Three Musketeers, The Musketeer is a uniform failure.
Writing: Terrible
Double Crossbones (1951) is a moderately amusing musical comedy that lampoons the swashbuckling pirate movie of its day as well as its staple plot: the double cross, especially the kind that involves upstanding fellows who are mistaken for pirates. The upstanding fellow in pirate's clothing in this case is Davey Crandall (played by Donald O'Connor), a mere shopkeeper's assistant, who, through a series of misadventures, becomes a prince among buccaneers. I am giving away nothing in mentioning this, as his status is clearly stated by the narrator at the beginning of the film (which is, incidentally, by far the most humorous part of the film). Donald O'Connor is most famous for his part in Singin' in the Rain and his recurring role in the Francis the Talking Mule series of movies. As Davey, O'Connor unleashes his skills as a dancer, singer, and comic, but a weak script and weak performances by most of the cast prevent this film from being more than somewhat memorable. It is light entertainment with only one outstanding feature: O'Connor's incredible agility.
Writing: MediocreHaving recently finished the first season of Zorro (the Disney television show from the 1950s), I intended to write a review of it and update it after watching the second season, but I decided to wait until I've finished the entire series (minus the later television movies, which are currently unavailable). I watched the first episode of Season 2 yesterday, and it appears the quality did not suffer. The seasons are long, though, and I'm not sure when I'll reach the end. Patience, my friends.
Z
For some reason, I can't bring myself to write a formal review of Robin of Sherwood. I watched too many episodes in too short a span too long ago to compose a comprehensive review. So, what follows will be a jumble of thoughts. I apologize to my handful of readers for the lack of thoroughness. Perhaps, if I ever have access to the entire series without commercial interruptions, I shall one day share my observations in greater detail.
Robin of Sherwood, a British television show first broadcast in the mid-1980s, is a tantalizing mixture of history, folklore, and fairytale. In this incarnation, Robin Hood is motivated equally by a personal moral vision shaped by circumstances and by a sacred bond to a pagan deity, Herne (John Albineri). There is, of course, highway robbery, political intrigue, daring rescues, and well-intentioned swashbuckling aplenty, but there is also an impressive variety of magic. The addition of the fantastical brings something new and, perhaps more importantly, something unpredictable to the legend of Robin Hood. One of the most impressive examples is the character of the Baron de Belleme (Anthony Valentine), about whom no more will be said lest ye watch it...
For the first two seasons, Robin (of Loxley) is played exceptionally well by Michael Praed. He is replaced in the third season rather less ably by Jason Connery, who plays the other version of Robin Hood, Robin of Huntingdon. It's a clever solution to Praed's departure, but the execution was less than satisfactory. The story seemed to lose momentum and the characters became tired caricatures. Before the end of the third season, I found myself wishing it had ended with the second.
My least favorite aspect of Robin of Sherwood, apart from the third season, is the music, which was scored by the Irish band Clannad. I have enjoyed some of their music and even some of their film scores, but their music for Robin of Sherwood is monotonous and more reminiscent of New Age—not the Middle Ages. At one point, there's a scene where the characters are actually supposed to be dancing to music being performed in their midst, but instead of music appropriate to the time period, the musicians are somehow producing sounds that could only be created by synthesizers. If it were a Blake Edwards production (or a Mel Brooks production), I would understand. In a drama, the choice is a failure. It would have been better to have cast real folk musicians in the scene playing period appropriate instruments.
Overall, I enjoyed the first two seasons immensely and found the third to be a disappointment. The score is regrettable, but at least I can mute the theme music.
Writing: Good (S1-2); Poor (S3)[Read this article from The History Files for more information about Robin of Sherwood.]
Series/Season 1
The early episodes of The Adventures of Robin Hood (of which there were 39) ran from September 1955 to July 1956 and give an account of the legendary figure's career beginning with his return from the Crusades. Unjustly deprived of his land and title, he becomes an outlaw and retreats to Sherwood Forest, gradually gathering a band of misfits who share his vision of wealth redistribution. Made for family viewing, the violence is mild and the romance is tame, but there is an earnest subversiveness in its writing due partly to its source material and partly (perhaps) to the fact that two of the writers were blacklisted in Hollywood during the communist witchhunt of the 1950s.
Robin Hood (Richard Greene) is portrayed with self-assurance, a sense of humor, and a consistent concern for the welfare of others regardless of their station or background. You would be forgiven if you mistook him for an archtypical father figure of 1950s family television rather than a swashbuckling adventurer, for he could easily pass as such with a change of costume, but he is cunning and quick to act when an innocent life is in danger or a rich purse is in need of lightening for a good cause.
Archie Duncan and Alexander Gauge are fine as Little John and Friar Tuck respectively, but Bernadette O'Farrell is especially good as a courageous and clever Maid Marian. The camaraderie of Robin's band of outlaws is believable, although the frequent re-use of actors in different roles is less so.
The first season (series) of The Adventures of Robin Hood is an entertaining and intelligent re-telling of the tales suitable for all ages. With any luck, the later seasons are equally enjoyable. Someday, perchance, I'll be able to watch them and review them.
Writing: Good