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I liked it only because I fancy swords and medieval armor. However, you're not going to learn anything factual nor fascinating about medieval combat here unlike in Robert Taylor's Ivanhoe or Knights of the Round Table.

The character portrayed by Alan Ladd wears an abbreviated armor eschewing the greaves and other gear to protect the legs and arms. Save for the breastplate and chain mail (short sleeved at that!), there is little to suggest that he wears authentic knightly armor. Even his helmet covers only the top of his face (no doubt to display his handsome features.) Robocop is the same way. The reason for the light armor becomes apparent when Ladd performs acrobatics in combat unlikely to have been part of a knight's dueling or battle paces. Robert Wagner in Prince Valiant does similar things.

The heroic Black Knight is actually a commoner and thus barred from bearing knightly arms and so has to keep his identity secret.

The villains are a Saracen knight (Peter Cushing) allied with Cornishmen. Why the people of Cornwall who are as British as the English? Beats me.

Cushing gives a luscious performance as a baddie. His quip after humiliating the blacksmith Alan Ladd before his lady love (Patricia Medina) is memorable. After failing to egg the meek Alan Ladd into fighting him, he turns to Patricia saying: "Please pardon this shameful exhibition."

The photography and location shots are excellent.

In my opinion, the finest cinematic renditions of the Arthurian legends have all been revisionist in nature – Robert Bresson’s ascetic LANCELOT DU LAC (1974), the uproarious MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL (1974) and John Boorman’s visceral Excalibur (1981) – but, for an entire generation of youngsters during the 1950s and 1960s (that to which my father belongs to be exact), the idealized, heroic Hollywood version of Camelot, its sovereign and inhabitants was the only one there was. In fact, they were spoilt for choice when it comes to depictions of pageantry in those days with Mel Ferrer, Brian Aherne (twice) and Richard Harris being among those who assuming on film the role of King Arthur.

In this modest, fairly routine but equally enjoyable British production, it is Anthony Bushell who gets to play the ruler of Camelot but the actor’s relative anonymity implies (correctly as it turns out) that his role in the narrative is merely a peripheral one. In fact, the leading man here is diminutive Hollywood star Alan Ladd: curiously cast as a taciturn English blacksmith with ideas above his station (generally directed towards aristocratic Patricia Medina), he is wrongly accused of both treason (by duplicitous Saracen knight Peter Cushing) and of cowardice (by Medina herself, after a Viking attack on her castle leaves her mother dead and father, played by Harry Andrews, half-crazed with grief)! However, with the help of a prescient knight (Andre' Morell) and after adopting the titular disguise, our commoner hero saves the day by routing the villains (who also include a dastardly Scottish royal – portrayed by yet another future Hammer horror stalwart Patrick Troughton, as well as Cushing’s laughing, would-be deaf-mute giant stooge), earning himself an official knighthood and, it goes without saying, Medina’s hand in marriage. Incidentally, the tale is set off by a ballad sung in a brief prologue by a minstrel (Elton Hayes) approaching a castle but, unexpectedly enough, rather than featuring in the upcoming narrative (as a singing squire or something), he quickly vanishes never to be seen or heard from again!

Apart from the film’s unsurprising reliance on cliché, it also contains elements of camp (particularly a Pagan rite being performed at Stonehenge and the cumbersome insignias worn on their helmets by the various knights) and leads up to a curiously clumsy climax (with an ostensibly unnoticed Ladd conspicuously overhearing the scheming Troughton and Cushing from a secret passage leading right behind the former’s throne; Ladd seemingly taken aback by the aforementioned giant falling to his death in spite of himself from the castle rooftop, not to mention Cushing apparently tripping in his own armor when turning up for the final showdown with the hero)! Actually, this only increases the film’s fun factor and, over fifty years later, one can still understand how this stuff was eagerly lapped up by thrill-seeking schoolboys during their weekly matinees. Incidentally, given Cushing’s reputation as a horror star, it may come as a surprise to some that he appeared in numerous costumers over the years – including THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK (1939), Alexander THE GREAT (1956), JOHN PAUL JONES (1959), SWORD OF SHERWOOD FOREST (1960), THE HELLFIRE CLUB (1961), FURY AT SMUGGLER’S BAY (1961), CAPTAIN CLEGG (1963) and SWORD OF THE VALIANT (1984)!

For what it’s worth, the screenplay involves some notable names – Alec Coppel, future director Bryan Forbes and film noir star Dennis O’Keefe(!) – and its plot of King Arthur vs. The Vikings would come in handy once more that same year in the equally inauthentic but even more popular PRINCE VALIANT. Other distinguished crew members include composer John Addison, cinematographer John Wilcox, art director Vetchinsky and producers Irving Allen and Albert R. Broccoli(!) – this was actually the latter’s third and last picture with Ladd following THE RED BERET (1953) and HELL BELOW ZERO (1954). By the way, THE BLACK KNIGHT itself eventually got remade by Nathan Juran as SIEGE OF THE SAXONS (1963)!

1954's "The Black Knight" marked the coming out for Peter Cushing's screen career, his top villain Sir Palamides outshining Alan Ladd's miscast hero John, serving King Mark of Cornwall (Patrick Troughton) as they perform their pagan misdeeds disguised as Vikings in trying to overthrow King Arthur (Anthony Bushell) and Christianity. In just his second feature, Harry Andrews appears all too briefly as the Earl of Yeonil, but Andre Morell shines as Sir Ontzlake, who teaches John the skills he needs to win, but to wait until they can confirm the treachery of the sly Palamides (actors Bryan Forbes and Dennis O'Keefe are credited with 'additional dialogue'). Wearing earrings, hair carefully curled, bearing a faintly Arabian accent that makes each line a cherished treasure, the bearded Cushing is a menacing, awesome sight, his blue eyes accentuated by his dark skin, certainly a match for his idol Basil Rathbone in either "The Adventures of Robin Hood" or "The Mark of Zorro." For an actor who loved Westerns and derring do, this would remain a cherished role that Christopher Lee would get to play far more often. This was only the first of six times that Cushing would be paired with Andre Morell, most memorably as Holmes and Watson in 1958's "The Hound of the Baskervilles." Like Cushing a future Dr. Who, Patrick Troughton was so prolific on television that he rarely strayed from horror on screen, working again opposite his evil cohort in both "The Gorgon" and "Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell." Though best remembered as an actor (appearing with Boris Karloff in both "Five Star Final" and "The Ghoul"), Anthony Bushell later directed Christopher Lee in 1960's "The Terror of the Tongs" (previously appearing with Lee in 1957's "Bitter Victory").

If you are looking for the epitome of "it's so awful, I cannot look away" movies, then this has got to be it! Everything is just dire, (except Peter Cushing as the baddie, (although he must have spent many an hour focusing on his coming fee rather than trying to think of his role - as a Saracen knight at the court of King Arhur (?????))). Alan Ladd's 'acting' is on a par with the 'plot', (if you can find it), and both are upstaged by the costumes, (especially the knights' or 'Vikings'' helmets, adorned with more horns, heraldic beasts and other appendages than a Victorian coat-stand). The real things not to miss, (in between either collapsing in hopeless fits of giggling or nodding off entirely, (and I could only watch my recording from the television in something like six (short) takes)), are the 'set pieces', especially the 'Virgin Sacrifice' scene at 'Stonehenge' - a good 25 years before Monty Python, but indescribably funnier than anything Cleese and his chaps could ever have thought up. Words can only go so far in describing a turkey of this magnitude, so if you are a fan of Mel Brooks-type spoofs and want a taste of something way beyond spoofing, set the VCR to record this one the next time it is on television, (as I cannot imagine any VHS or DVD distributor in their right mind ever putting this one up for sale), grab a bucket of popcorn, a box of tissues, (for when you collapse in laughter at frequent points), and go for it when you need a lift.

I do not think The Black Knight is a terrible film. Mediocre yes, terrible no. It does have its problems I agree, the script is clunky and lacking in wit apart from Cushing's amusing and memorable "please pardon this shameful exhibition" and also suffers from excessive cheesiness, the story is on the misconceived side, the pace sags in the middle I feel and I didn't think much of Alan Ladd who I found too old and perhaps a little unkempt too. However, the costumes and location work are absolutely splendid, John Addsion's score is likable enough, the action is witty and energetic, the direction is passable, and Peter Cushing and Harry Andrews are a joy to behold. All in all, I wasn't wowed over but I did find it watchable thanks to the production values and the supporting cast. 5/10 Bethany Cox