When Knighthood Was in Flower

By 1922, it was an open secret that one of newspaper's most powerful publishers, William Randolph Hearst, was not only having an affair with one of Hollywood's top actresses, Marion Davies, but actually living with her. One aspect of the relationship raising eyebrows was his current marriage to Millicent Hearst, mother to their five sons. The illicit liaison didn't seem to impair Davies' public career; in fact, her popularity appeared to have thrived on the 'scandal:' she was voted number one actress by theater owners in 1922 for her marque value, bringing in the most viewing customers of any female film star.

Hearst, a mentor and handler to the actress, produced a number of Davies' movies. One motion picture where he financially went all in on was September 1922's release of "When Knighthood Was In Flower." The actress' role of King Henry VIII's sister forced under a treaty to marry the old French king was a departure from her normal comic ingenue parts. Davies had to display a certain amount of athleticism, not known for her physicality in the past. To prepare for one sword fighting sequence, she spent days learning how to fence. Additionally, her dramatic skills were put to the test when her character falls in love with a commoner, going against what a highly volatile Henry expressedly commanded.

No expense was too great for Hearst when he underwrote the film's production based on a 1898 best selling novel by Charles Major. The newspaper mogul was a stickler for authenticity: he constructed a large-scale medieval village complete with elaborate costumes for his hundreds of extras. For the short scene in the beginning where Davies arrives at King Henry's abode, he had built in Bridgeport, CT, a replica of a 16th-century boat. In all, Hearst spent a record $1.5 million on 'Knighthood,' including the most expensive marketing campaign ever seen in cinema to that time. He rented 650 billboards throughout New York prior to the film's release as well as 300 subway advertising sites. Souvenir books were sold by the thousands, and a huge electric sign with dazzling lights was set up in busy Times Square.

Hearst knew how to sell product, and to prove it, "When Knighthood Was In Flower" was a beneficiary of his pre-publicity campaign. The movie became the second highest box office winner for 1922, trailing only Douglas Fairbanks' 'Robin Hood.' The movie also earned praise with film critics, with even one British art dealer effusive about the motion picture, commenting it's "the most stupendous reproduction of Henry the Eighth court life that has ever been achieved - a marvelous piece of artistry."

Although he is not remembered to-day for anything else but this production, Robert G. Vignola directed no less than 99 movies, starting way back in 1911 and continuing through to 1937. A look at "The Scarlet Letter" (1934) confirms the impression that he learnt his craft back in 1911 and stuck with it. Throughout the entire length of "When Knighthood", Mr Vignola does not move his camera so much as a single half-inch. Were it not for his fondness of editing constantly from a group shot to a tight two-shot, the whole movie is otherwise presented as if it were a stage play. Nonetheless, he does maintain the pace of his tale with admirable dexterity. I was amazed to find that I'd been glued to the screen for well over two and half hours. I thought I'd been watching the action for no more than 90 minutes.

Of course the overwhelming richness of the production, tight plotting that most effectively builds up to two separate climaxes, plus spellbinding acting (particularly from Miss Davies herself, Lyn Harding, William Norris and William Powell) all contributed to the movie's appeal. On the other hand, I thought Forrest Stanley made a rather dull hero; and the fact that he and Ernest Glendinning who played his friend, Caskoden, were virtually interchangeable look-a-likes did not help.

All told, however, this is a thrilling, engrossing and visually appealing production, and I can't wait until it's released on DVD with an appropriate music score.

What can be said about at the time the most expensive movie ever made with cost an estimated at $1.8 million. The pet project of the famous media magnate William Hearst, it is the tale of a woman, sister who defies all royal conventions, especially one; she falls in love with a commoner - Knight Charles Brandon - while bethrothed not of her choice, of course, to King louis XII of France. Action ensues as the forces of tradition conspire to keep them apart. The sets are very good and Marion davies is extremely good. When I watch a silent movie and I wish to hear what the actor is saying, then the performance is classic. Everyone else is adequate and passable. The director who isn't very good throws in a lot of gothic subtext and an unusual editing style of what I'll term "flash cutting" is used. Cinematography is especially wonderful. Deeper meanings or detailing beyond the obvious social strata innuities and foresight castigations of a by-gone era, is pitifully missing. Entertaining yes, action-packed - agreed but a bit quaint, unlike Robin Hood released around the same time but which holds up much better. (It alsao looks as if it cost more; it did not). But Garbo, Shearer and Dietrich did this too and theirs are better. Worth watching but watch out for sappiness in many moments. Just as a note, this movie was the biggest hit of the 1922-23 movie season, ahead of Robin Hood and Safety last.

Mary Tudor (Marion Davies), younger sister of King Henry VIII, as was the custom of the day for noblewomen, is to have an arranged marriage with a king in a foreign land to help cement alliances with England. But Mary falls in love with the captain of the king's guard, Charles Brandon. Ultimately she is pledged to old King Louis of France. She and Brandon escape with Mary disguised as a boy with the king and his men in hot pursuit - William Randolph Hearst liked Marion dressed as a boy and that is likely why this part is even in the film. Will they ever be together or will statecraft win the day? Watch and find out.

It sags dreadfully in the middle, and then near the end picks up the pace with a rousing and even humorous conclusion. It is reported to be the most expensive film made to date the time, and they get the period costumes just right. And although the story is close to historically correct, King Henry VIII is portrayed as he looked in a portrait by Hans Holbein that was painted in 1536 when Henry was 45 and obese. He was in fact only five years older than his sister Mary, but then audiences would likely not recognize or accept a slender and athletic young Henry VIII as he looked at the time this story takes place.

This was William Powell's second film appearance, and he turned out to be a very effective and menacing villain. And that's with me knowing what a warm and charming voice that he had, so I can just imagine how he impacted audiences of the day. Strangely enough this was both William Powell's and Gustav von Seyffertitz's next film after 1922's Sherlock Holmes.

I haven't looked at this in twenty years or so, and my memory was dim, but at the time I thought it was good but not great. Looking at the dvd of the Ben Model-Library of Congress-Jack Theakson-Steven Stanchfield restoration, I am agog at the clarity of the images, the beauty of the tints, and the care taken in the hand-coloring of the torches in the big chase at the end, the stupendous sets by Joseph Urban (who, Lara Gabrielle Fowler notes in the well-written booklet that accompanies the set, actually designed palaces in Europe) and the sumptuous clothing. Ben has added a handsome organ score based on the original offering at the Criterion in Manhattan. Like the original movie, nothing has been omitted to make this less than a landmark restoration.

The story is one of those melodramas of romantic piffle in costume that have long been popular. Marion Davies is Mary Tudor, young sister of Henry VIII, played by a suit seen in a Holbein picture, into which Lyn Harding has been stuffed. He is interested in marrying Marion to whichever ruler will serve his dynastic purposes, but she wants love, and settles on Forrest Stanley. When her engagement to the decrepit Louis XII is announced, she and Stanley try to flee to America; they are caught and Stanley is saved from a cheap and chippy chopper only by Marion's promise to marry Louis and not make a fuss. Unfortunately, the marriage takes its toll on the king, and the new king, played by William Powell, would have his way with her. As Tod Slaughter used to ask, will Heaven protect the working girl?

This sort of suffering-in-ermine story does not appeal to me, as I have made apparent in many another review. Even worse, for my taste, is the fact that the actors and their performances get lost in the immense sets and sumptuous costumes, so that it sometimes seemed that I was viewing a series of Flemish paintings -- not in the least aided by Robert Vignola's well-this-composition-worked-in-the-last-thirty-setups staging. It was almost an hour into the film, when Marion and Forrest are hiding out at an inn, that some of the clothing comes off and we get to see some acting. Otherwise, the only human moments seem to be the rare close-ups of the actors -- usually Marion in some immense pearl-studded miter -- lending more of an air of a tableau vivante, or even a good waxworks than a fillum.

I know that there is a large contingent of fans who will enjoy this movie just for those things which seem to me a distraction from good story-telling. These are the matters of likes and dislikes that we shrug our shoulders at. It doesn't lessen the amount of work and, indeed, the achievement of the restoration. The amount of labor and cooperation make it clear that, yes, we fans of these old movies can achieve something worthwhile. I can only hope that those of us who like this sort of thing will like it very much, and we can do more of these. Anyone for Dorothy Gish?