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."

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.

Marion Davies brings a sense of fun and adventure to the role of Mary Tudor, the younger sister of Henry VIII, who was forced into marrying the ageing French King Louis XII. The entertaining plot revolves around her attempts to avoid the marriage and elope with dashing officer Charles Brandon (Forrest Stanley).. A big hit when it was released - and also the most expensive movie ever made for a while - it is undeservedly overlooked today.

Knights in Flowery Dresses is a masterfully costumed and filmed romp through the Court of the Crimson King. But it proves that as far back as 1922 William Randolph Hearst was spending lavish amounts of money trying to prove to the world Marion Davies could act.

Don't get me wrong. Davies was a gifted physical comic actress and mimic. When she's allowed to display those talents in movies, the movies are hugely entertaining. When Daddy Warbucks puts her in costume dramas, her complete lack of talent as a dramatic actor shines through.

I mean, if this is a drama, Davies doesn't act like she's in one. And if it's a comedy it's very unfunny. I know for sure it's not an epic because it barely leaves the castle.

Although the set design is elaborate and expensive, the film failed to hold my interest. Except for King Henry VIII's eyes, which appear to be made of chunks of coal. Very creepy.

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?