A Marca do Zorro

If you've seen the other incarnations of Zorro before seeing this black-and-white silent version, you may think this one is going to be boring. Wrong! Because it is silent, the visuals kept me captivated; much more seems to be conveyed through gestures and body language than in a film in which the characters speak. The accompanying organ music is masterfully matched to the action (when someone slams a hand down on to a table, there is an appropriate "thump" in the music.) Best of all, though, is watching the legendary Douglas Fairbanks in some of his trademark athletic leaps, which appear effortless. I have to say that this is one of the very best versions of Zorro.

... there is just something mesmerizing about Douglas Fairbanks at work, the way he moves about. He's just a joy to watch.

Fairbanks plays Zorro, the masked dispenser of justice to Spaniards who abuse the natives in old California. Since the powers that be don't care much for being lectured, shown up in swordplay, or having Z carved into their foreheads, he wears a mask that - realistically - wouldn't fool anybody who knew him anymore than Batman's mask would fool anybody who knew him. Zorro is actually Don Diego Vega, who pretends being the listless fool in order to deflect suspicion that he might be Zorro. His father, though disappointed in Don, insists that he get married to continue the family line. His father thus arranges him to court Christina Pulido, another nobleman's daughter. Since Don doesn't want to marry a woman who loves his money, he talks up his money when he visits her, but also plays the fool. When she is genuinely repulsed, he figures this is a sign she is a quality woman, and he returns as Zorro to woo her.

The romance in this film drags on just a little too long, and it's the only place where the production really shows its age. When it is Zorro and his athletic exploits onstage, laughing in the face of danger, the time flies by. I'd recommend this 100 plus year old film.

Fairbanks, a jack of all trades (having co-written the script as well as starring and doing his own stunts) is at his best here as Zorro, the Spanish defender of the weak, which spawned at least a dozen more movies based on this (and a TV series, too.) The plot deals with Don Diego Vega, a playful young man who, when not making finger puppets on the wall or doing tricks with handkerchiefs, is prone to fatigue. But his father disapproves of such madness, suggesting that he marry the daughter Lolita, (Marguerite Del La Motte) of a family out of favor with the Governor of California. Unimpressed with Don Diego, the girl is instead in love with Zorro (also Fairbanks, which obviously means Don Diego IS Zorro.) But she has another suitor - in the form of Zorro's mortal enemy, Captain Ramon. And he and his men (including Noah Beery, who's part was an inspiration for the rotund captain in the TV series) will stop at nothing to capture him. Will Zorro save California? Will Don Diego and Lolita fall in love? Can Zorro finish his breakfast without being interrupted? Just sit back and enjoy Fairbanks's amazing stunts (which remind one of Buster Keaton) and remember: "Never do anything on an empty stomach - except eat!"

Douglas Fairbanks played two roles in his movie career, but in many ways, it seems he only really played one. The first act was in modern comedies, where he often played some ineffectual urban dweller who leaps (often literally) at an opportunity for some adventure or other transformative experience that is in harmony with his exuberance and charm, while winning the affections of the leading lady. The second act of his career began here, with "The Mark of Zorro"--the historical action adventure, costume swashbuckler. This one doesn't have quite the lavish productions values as in some of his later pictures, such as "Robin Hood" (1922) and "The Thief of Bagdad" (1924), but the premise is the same. Moreover, Edward M. Langley's sets seem historically appropriate and well done for the time, and Fairbanks is supported by a well-rounded cast (including a very hammy Noah Beery) and director Fred Niblo, who would continue after this as an expert in producing such historical spectacles.

Like the contemporary comedies, the swashbucklers similarly highlight Fairbanks's talents; both are suitable vehicles for his graceful athleticism, boyish masculinity and pep, his smile and light sense of humor. His acrobatics are on full display in this one's climax. Fairbanks does seem to relish the dual roles here, playing Don Diego as a goof, to contrast his noble, graceful Zorro. Fairbanks's role here can't be overstated. He controlled his persona and productions as much as any star back then, producing for his own production company and contributing to scenarios. Reportedly, the "Z" mark of Zorro was a visual motif invented here, and Fairbanks also improvised much of the foppish nature of the Don Diego secret identity, which, however, was quite similar to some of the characters he played in his earlier comedies (i.e. in the first part of "The Mollycoddle" (1920) and "The Lamb" (1915)). Moreover, Zorro was Doug's earlier comedy persona unleashed from the constraints of modern society, and his foppish Don Diego was him pretending to still be constrained—only inversions of his earlier roles. Additionally, Fairbanks spent considerable time being trained by experts for the swordplay and stunts, and the effort clearly paid off. "The Mark of Zorro" is a light, enjoyable vehicle for his talents, and it's also an important touchstone in film history—popularizing the pulp magazine creation of Zorro, establishing the American swashbuckler, action-adventure film and its archetypal hero, while doing so with Doug's characteristic grace, smile and contagious sense of fun.

Enjoyable silent film provided with a musical soundtrack by TCM.

DOUGLAS FAIRBANKS is the famous masked bandit, balancing a nice sense of humor and heroics, demonstrating the athletic side of Don Diego which has to be hidden by the more effete man who tires so easily. He's a Spanish version of the Scarlet Pimpernel. MARGUERITE DE LA MOTTE is a lovely heroine and ROBERT McKIM does everything but twirl his mustache as the villain from whose clutches Fairbanks must rescue the damsel in distress.

Obviously a high-budget production with rich settings, nicely photographed in Sepia or blue tints for the night scenes. What's really astonishing is Fairbanks doing all those climbing stunts in the last reel, with so much ease. Full of youthful vigor and high spirits, he found a role that suited him to perfection, able to show two sides of his personality with charm and/or vigor while not ignoring the stunts that made him famous.

It's an enjoyable and swaggering adventure, remade many times in the future, most notably with the 1940 sound version starring Tyrone Power, Linda Darnell and Basil Rathbone.

Summing up: Familiar yarn, well done and standing the test of time better than many other silent films thanks to good production values.