A Marca do Zorro

Besides being entertaining in itself, "The Mark of Zorro" also provides Douglas Fairbanks with a nice showcase, in a dual role that gives him plenty of good material to work with. While other versions of the Zorro legends are now more familiar to present-day audiences, this one is probably still better than any of the others except for the 1940 version with Tyrone Power.

The 1998 update had big names and a big budget, but it was of much lower quality, glossy and over-played at a number of points, and with too much material of comic-book quality at other times.

Fairbanks works nicely both as Don Diego and as Zorro, and he gets opportunities to display many different talents. He gets to display his swash-buckling yet easy-going persona, and then at other times is able to show a more refined, sometimes vulnerable side. Not only does he make both personalities work, but he melds them together into a believable whole, not so much by means of artifice as by the vigor and sincerity of his screen presence.

The story, likewise, presents an interesting situation that works Fairbanks in well with the other characters. Though they are less interesting in themselves, the secondary characters each play a useful role in the story and in the ideas that it suggests. This old version of the Zorro tale holds up well - at least for those who enjoy silent movies - and it presents a nicely paced and entertaining story.

Hooray for Doug!!! He is the epitome of the dashing swashbuckler and set the standard for all that followed.......and some of them were damn good but Fairbanks had it all. He flashed those teeth and swung from tree to building, across tables and onto the backs of horses......and without a stunt double. What a guy.

The film tells the story that we all know due to remakes and a successful TV series (with a great theme song). The foppish Don Diego, is a terrible disappointment to his father and to his intended wife. He appears to be always "fatigued" and uses a silk handkerchief to indicate his ennui. It's a perfect cover for his alter ego, Zorro, the Robin Hood of old California.

The acting in this silent is overall quite good even though Noah Beery Sr. is a little over the top in a couple of scenes......well, most of his scenes are rather hammy. (It must have run in the family for I found his brother Wallace pretty hammy himself). But Fairbanks is the reason for seeing this film. He is a ball of fire and looks like he had a great time playing this part......and you'll have a great time watching him. He's "that bold renegade, carves a Z with his blade, a Z that stands for Zorro". What fun!!!!!!!!!

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.

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.

... 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.