Okay, here's the deal. I don't know how many of you out there remember, but once upon a time, there was such a thing in movies as a "serial." These movies were made to be released in maybe 12-minute chunks, and they were usually concerning some hero fighting for justice. I don't mean "hero" in the sense it seems to be today, but a Capital H - Hero. A Hero was a clean-cut, suave, adventurer-type, generally sporting some sort of mask, that was a champion of the people. He fought for right against an assortment of evil villains that all wanted to take over the world, or the universe, or their city, depending on the hero's general locale. The villains were all generally "mad," as was the saying then, and they laughed real strangely and real loud whenever they talked about taking over the world/universe/city/whatever.
Well, the villain would always manage to get the hero, or the hero's girlfriend, in some sort of predicament that meant impending doom. Everything was tense, the danger was nigh, and a life was on the line. There would be closeups of whatever the danger was, cutting to closeups of whoever was being threatened, and back again to the danger. Back and forth, quicker and quicker, then...black. The screen would go fade abruptly, and you'd have to wait 'til the next chapter of the serial to find out if the threatened person lived through the threat and how. Everyone would sigh, and the announcer would say something like, "Be sure not to miss the next installment of Rock Peril Vs. The Mad Scientist," and another movie would start, leaving everyone hungry for more.
Sadly, the serial is pretty much as extinct as a cheap Coke at movie theatres these days. The closest thing we've had to those old serials is the Indiana Jones trilogy. A Hero (no mask, but a cool hat/jacket combo) gets thrown into an adventure with a pretty girl, and they get into trouble, he gets them out of trouble, and ten minutes later, there's more trouble. It's like a rollercoaster -- up and down, thrilling and calming until the end. The Heros today, though, are not much for swashbuckling and derring-do. They'd rather beat up a guy, blow a hole in them with a cannon, splatter them with a laser pistol, and then make a witty quip as the villain writhes in pain.
Until now, anyway. Let me clear my throat and do an impression of an announcer for you. Ahem....
"Now, out of the sands of the Mexican plains, comes a champion of the people, a seeker of justice, hero for this or any age. On his steed, black as night, he gallops, righting the wrongs, defending the oppressed, and fighting evil in whatever form it may rise. He leaves his mark with his precision steel, and his heart is strong in his battle. He is...Zorro."
Man, that was fun!
Zorro has ridden back into theatres, and this time, he's a whole lot of fun to watch. And, better still, he reminds us that, in some cases, maybe the older is the better, when it comes to formulas and heroes and swashbuckling adventure. The Mask of Zorro, starring Antonio Banderas and Anthony Hopkins is out now, and it might be another welcome surprise on our summer movie slate.
In this version of the story, we are introduced, by way of a hopping prologue, to Zorro, as played by Hopkins. He rescues three helpless peasants from execution by the evil (and about to be deposed) governor of the territory, Don Rafael (Stuart Wilson). Zorro rides in on his black horse, Tornado, and lays out a whole case of butt-kick fever, and deposits a "Z" on Don Rafael's neck for good measure, a permanent reminder of who defeated his plans. But Rafael figures out who Zorro really is, tracks him down, and kills his wife. He also kidnaps his daughter Elena, and tosses Zorro into prison (you gotta wonder when enough is enough for ol' Rafael, huh?)
Twenty years later, Don Rafael returns to the territory, accompanied by the now-grown-up and now-incredibly gorgeous Elena (Catherine Zeta-Jones), and he has a mad plan to take over California (insert loud, evil, crazy laughter here.) But, ol' Rafe didn't read through the phone book, apparently, 'cause The Big Z didn't die in prison as he'd hoped. Not by a long shot. In fact, Zorro has decided to recruit a new successor to bear his trade name, a small-time thief named Alejandro (Banderas). Alejandro is the "Zorro in training," and training he needs, in everything from fencing to table manners. Hey, he's a thief, not a gentleman. Why should he know how to use a fork?
I'll turn off the Plot-o-Tizer now and let you see the movie for yourselves. Safe to say, though, the new Zorro learns his lessons well, and proceeds to gallop, slash and romance his way to self-actualization and the greater good. Or something like that.
Folks, I know you like to hear that there's a new secret, some fresh new idea to making these kinds of movies, and ordinarily, I'd love to tell you so. I'd love even more to give a big ol' raspberry to anyone who follows the formula so rigidly that the whole movie looks as stale as an open beer on a hot rock. I'd love to tell you either of those things, but I can't, 'cause director Martin Campbell (Goldeneye), has done something even more revolutionary. He's made a movie in 1998 that follows a formula as old as dust, but, instead of merely following, he embraces the formula with open arms. Campbell traces the very roots of serial films, building the action, and letting it calm, then building it again. Thankfully, instead of revolutionizing the idea, he does something even more daring. He gets a perfect script, casts perfect actors, hires some kickin' stuntmen, works hard and true, and lets the old magic happen.
Hopkins is, well, these days, has anyone seen him not give his heart to a project? He's a suave bundle of controlled anger here, a man with a past that needs avenging. Antonio Banderas could easily run with this thing for a while, should the notion of a series character strike his fancy. He and Hopkins together make a smooth pairing as teacher and student, and as comrades dedicated to the same goal. There is much to be said for Catherine Zeta-Jones, but most of it would be stuttering and stammering about how wonderful she looks onscreen. She not only looks wonderful, though, she makes a nice foil for Banderas early on, much like the Marian Ravenwood character in the first Indy movie.
My only complaint is that Campbell lets the end go on longer than it needed, but by the time the ending comes, it is easy to see why he wanted to drag it out as long as he could. It almost looks like he simply didn't want the movie to end. It's padded, it's almost superfluous, and it does get in the way. This film deserved a better wrap-up, maybe in a Magnificent Seven-sort of way, a neat, simple ending after the huge final battle. The heroes ride off to new adventures, the sun sets, the screen fades.
The Mask of Zorro may very well be the best pure escapist thing to hit this summer. It makes no pretensions about being some important art film. It doesn't wave the flag in our faces or try to boggle us with special effects and CGI monsters. Instead, it takes the novel approach of just being about good, entertaining old-school filmmaking. Return to those thrilling days of yesteryear (sorry, Lone Ranger fans...) and go see The Mask of Zorro. You won't be sorry, you'll have a blast, and you might just be surprised how much you remember about those old movies, too.
Image copyright Tristar Pictures.
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in for observation