The Gaucho

Combining the familiar Douglas Fairbanks action scenes with some unexpected material, "The Gaucho" is interesting and pretty good. It might be just a cut below Fairbanks's very best movies, but it has more than enough to satisfy most silent movie fans. The story is involved, and it features some creative turns, while the production is resourceful and quite good for the most part.

Fairbanks's character here is not quite the same as in his usual roles. While the story does give him plenty of action and adventure sequences, his character is not nearly as likable as most of the ones that he played. The way that "The Gaucho" treats the other characters is not at all what you would have expected from his other movies - normally, even when his character is an outlaw in the eyes of the authorities, you get the feeling that you'd have nothing to fear from him unless you deserved it. Not so here.

That does make the character interesting. As with Fairbanks's usual roles, he seeks justice and respect, but unlike most of the others, he also needs redemption in a much deeper sense. And that fits in well with the other unusual aspect of the movie, which is established at the very beginning with the founding of the miraculous shrine. It introduces a supernatural or quasi-religious dimension that is not at all part of movies like "The Black Pirate" or "The Three Musketeers". Yet, for all that it requires a suspension of disbelief, it works pretty well as part of the overall story.

The detailed and sometimes impressive settings, along with the supporting cast, also help out. Lupe Velez has plenty of energy, Gustav von Seyffertitz is a suitable villain, and it's enjoyable to see Mary Pickford's brief appearance. Overall, it's pretty good, despite varying in some respects from time-tested formulas.

Producer Douglas Fairbanks was getting tired playing the same chaste character who not only respected women in an honorable way, but was barely close enough to his love interests to plant a kiss. All that changed in his November 1927 "The Gaucho."

Maybe it was for the fact, as a pallbearer for cinema's male sex symbol, Rudolph Valentino, and witnessing the female hysteria of the actor's sudden death, Fairbanks realized there was a void for a Latin lover on the screen. Soon after the near-riots on the streets surrounding Valentino's coffin, he sat down and wrote the scenario for "The Gaucho," set in the mountains of Argentina. His character, The Gaucho, goes after women with abandon, especially with The Mountain Girl (Lupe Velez). He even dances a provocative tango number with Velez, establishing a physical presence with the opposite sex never witnessed in a Fairbanks' movie before.

Of course, Fairbanks realized he couldn't disappoint his legion of fans by portraying a libidinous character throughout his adventurous motion picture. "The Gaucho" turns on its heels when he becomes infected by some unnamed disease (most likely leprosy). Once he takes his health seriously, he goes to the City of the Miracle, named after an event from a woman's miraculous survival of a fall from a nearby cliff. Fairbanks' wife in real life, Mary Pickford, plays the Madonna, who pays a visit to the city.

"The Gaucho" was directed by F. Richard Jones, the same person who brought back to Hollywood Mabel Normand, who was battling drug addiction for three years. He also worked with Stan Lauren on 19 films before his pairing with Oliver Hardy. Laurel credited Jones with teaching him everything he learned about cinematic comedy. Jones later directed Ronald Coleman in 1929's "Bulldog Drummond" in his first talkie.

For The Mountain Girl role, Fairbanks auditioned several soon-to-be famous young actresses, including Myrna Loy, Fay Wray and Loretta Young. He was especially impressed with Lupe Velez, his love interest in "The Gaucho." The movie gave the actress, a former Ziegfeld Follies dancer, visibility after appearing in just a couple of Hal Roach shorts, including "Sailors, Beware!" with Laurel and Hardy. Her private life lived up to her nickname "The Mexican Spitfire," including fiery relationships with Gary Cooper, Johnny Weissmuller, Charlie Chaplin and Clark Gable, among others.

Fairbanks himself was experiencing quite a year in 1927. He was one of the first to imprint his hands and feet into cement next to the Grauman's Chinese Theatre. Mel Brooks in his 1974 black comedy 'Blazing Saddles" has one of his characters say after spotting the actor's mold, "How did he do such fantastic stunts ... with such little feet?" The members of the Motion Picture Academy of Arts and Sciences also voted him to be the first president of that organization. "The Gaucho" was released one month after Hollywood's first talkie "The Jazz Singer." The Latino-flavored movie proved to be Fairbanks' last fully-silent movie; his next one, 1928's "The Iron Mask" contained a musical and sound effects track along with two short speeches by Fairbanks.

As Douglas Fairbanks biographer Jeffrey Vance has noted, "The Gaucho" is different from the action star's swashbucklers he'd been making since "The Mark of Zorro" (1920), citing the film's shift from the prior ones' boyish adventurism to more mature themes of sexuality and spirituality. Once again, Doug, this time as the Gaucho, saves a community from a dastardly villain, but this storyline becomes secondary to his religious conversion. Initially, the Gaucho isn't the perfect hero, either, although Doug still seems to perform stunts effortlessly (thanks in part to undercranking the camera and some quick, even sometimes choppy, editing).

And, this time, the girl pursues and tries to rescue him. Lupe Velez, as the easily-jealous, not damsel-y at all Mountain Girl, matches and sometimes exceeds Doug's exuberance. At one point, she tackles a guy and beats him up, and she likewise experiences a religious conversion. Usually, these type of religious pictures, complete with faith healing, a magical fountain and superimposed Virgin Marys would bore the hell out of me. I shudder at the thought of a film where the Girl of the Shrine, with her vacant expressions-supposedly alluding to spiritual superiority-were the protagonist.

But, Doug exudes charisma, his smile is contagious, and the religion, at least, slows his rollicking down for a moment. Otherwise, the guy is non-stop motion; he only sits down to briefly strike a pose and a match for his also-fervent cigarette smoking. Plus, The Gaucho does include the usual fare of Doug as the hero of the oppressed, defeater of dastardly villains. There's no sword fighting, but he does use a whip, performs some horse riding tricks, jumps all over the place and uses his wits to overcome large armies, including the climactic cattle stampede. The sets are also grand, per usual. Doug and his merry band of gauchos even help move one of them.

Douglas Fairbanks wrote, produced and starred in this unusual and entertaining movie at the height of his career, and the guy sure was in his prime: you'll never find him looking as virile, athletic and sexy as he does here. Sight unseen I assumed that The Gaucho would be another escapist swashbuckler flick, cut from the same cloth as Doug's earlier vehicles and aimed primarily at boys, but it proved to be a real surprise, a combination action/adventure/morality tale with a heavier atmosphere and a darker sensibility than any other Fairbanks film. Whether or not its oddness comes as a pleasant surprise is up to the individual viewer, but for my part I enjoyed the change of pace and appreciated the filmmakers' boldness in attempting something so off-the-wall.

How is The Gaucho different? For starters, Doug himself is different. Based on what little I knew beforehand I figured the title character would be an essentially decent bandit chieftain, a pseudo-Hispanic Robin Hood complete with a new band of Merry Hombres, once more pitted against the wicked forces of authoritarian rule. And in fact that's pretty much what he is, but he's also a flawed character who must mature in the course of the story, thus presenting a challenge for our leading man, who, as even his most dedicated fans admit, was never the most nuanced of actors. Here Doug is still very much the star of the show, but he's playing a decidedly selfish man who doesn't seem all that interested in avenging injustice or fighting for the peasantry. The Gaucho is no Robin Hood: he's cocky and arrogant, and in the early scenes his self-confident machismo is emphasized to the point of obnoxiousness. Like many a silent movie hero the Gaucho has a trademark physical gesture, a one-handed cigarette lighting trick, but once he's exhibited this bit two or three times we begin to roll our eyes and feel he's just begging to be taken down a peg or two.

It's also noticeable that, all of a sudden, Doug is attempting to fill the dance shoes of the recently departed Rudolph Valentino. When he played Robin Hood or the Black Pirate Doug's attitude toward his leading lady was more respectful than passionate, but the Gaucho represents the most maturely sexual character Fairbanks would take on in his screen career. Doug's tango with Lupe Velez is as steamy as any sequence he ever played, even incorporating a hint of S&M when he lashes his partner to himself with a sharp twirl of his bolo. These early scenes suggest that our protagonist -- who has apparently already won the day, and has everything he needs to be happy -- must be riding for a fall. This is where the story's moralizing kicks in, as the Gaucho is compelled to recognize that there are forces at work in the universe even greater than himself.

A pronounced element of religious mysticism is introduced in the prologue, when a gravely injured girl on the brink of death is visited by an apparition of the Virgin Mary. The girl is healed, whereupon she herself heals a dying baby. (The Virgin is played by Fairbanks' wife Mary Pickford, with a gravity that is unfortunately somewhat undercut by her bizarre, spinning halo.) This dollop of Hollywood Godliness, usually the province of Cecil B. DeMille, is interwoven throughout, and some viewers may find the going a bit sticky. Personally I didn't have a problem with it, perhaps in part because the 'religious' sequences are presented with such straightforward earnestness; and perhaps because, if ever a hero needed to find God, it's this one.

Where matters of taste are concerned one might also question the introduction of the subject of leprosy into the scenario. The condition is identified only as the 'Black Doom,' but from the context it's perfectly clear what disease was being represented. Whatever your response, Fairbanks deserves credit for sheer moxie, and for attempting to stretch the boundaries of what was considered permissible in an adventure film. He could have played it safe and re-worked Robin Hood, or cranked out another Zorro sequel, but he took a risk, and all things considered I feel he pulled it off. And it's worth noting that the story's heavier material is counterbalanced by more typical scenes of rowdy play and athleticism. Fairbanks the canny showman also gives us two spectacular sequences: in the first, a house is dragged from its foundations by a team of horses, and later there's an amazing cattle stampede that looks quite fearsome and dangerous. The Gaucho also gives us the young and wildly sexy Lupe Velez, who takes a far more active role in the proceedings than most of Doug's other leading ladies.

All told it's a helluva show, and well worth seeking out. It may not be for all tastes, but no one can call The Gaucho a routine swashbuckler. I would include it with Douglas Fairbanks' most entertaining and accomplished works.

This is typical 20's Fairbanks, when he was making his grand epic swashbucklers, with typical over-complicated plots. The character reminds me of the first Zorro, but this guy is harder, and nastier (even after his miraculous reform). Fairbanks was also in his mid-forties when he made it, which explains his fined-down, but still very buff, appearance.

The plot is a mythical Argentina (with a tango thrown in to define the place, but it could take place anywhere, including Zorro's Early California. Fairbanks does wear an exotic costume, though.

Lupe Velez' Mountain Girl is the real departure. She is feisty, for one, and swashes every bit of buckle that Fairbanks does. These sort of characters are usually the one who DOESN'T get her man; here, it is with great satisfaction that she does--a woman ahead of her times!