The Mark of Zorro (1940) by matthew c. hoffman

The Mark of Zorro is based on one of the great works of hero fiction– Johnston McCulley’s serialized, five-part story The Curse of Capistrano. Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. was the first to translate this pulp story to the screen in 1920. It was his first swashbuckler and it sent his career skyrocketing in a new direction, as it would do for Tyrone Power twenty years later. It was Fairbanks who developed many of the traits that we associate with the legend. Johnston McCulley would incorporate these Fairbanks embellishments into his subsequent Zorro sequels. For instance, it was Fairbanks who came up with the idea of cutting a “Z” onto the bodies of his victims. In essence, the story inspired the film which in turn inspired the author, who retitled his original work after the name of the Fairbanks movie. The 1920 version of The Mark of Zorro is another one of the films I would have liked to have shown in Crossed Swords, so we encourage you to view it at some point. The original was even an influence on comic book artist Bob Kane when he created the character of Batman. More recently, a chase sequence from the film was inserted into 2011’s The Artist.

The two versions are very different, but the general plot of the 1940 version is the same. Again we have a young Spanish nobleman, Don Diego Vega, returning to Spanish California to find that his hometown of Los Angeles is now in the hands of a corrupt mayor who is burdening the peasants with taxes. Vega determines to help his people by posing as a vigilante—a masked avenger known as Zorro, which is Spanish for the word “fox.” To elude suspicion of his clandestine activity, he poses as a listless fop, which disgusts his father. The big reveal of who he is, of course, is one of the many elements that make this film so satisfying.

Though studio head Daryl Zanuck considered Richard Greene, later of TV’s The Adventures of Robin Hood, he wisely cast Tyrone Power in the role. Power looked every bit the part. He is believable in the action scenes and he brings a great deal of humor to the role of Don Diego Vega. His character actually wears two masks in the film—that of Zorro, of course, but the figurative mask of the Spanish dandy he pretends to be. As with Fairbanks before him, he plays this role to the hilt, appearing bored most of the time—that is, when he’s not entertaining his hosts with magic tricks. His performance recalls Leslie Howard as The Scarlet Pimpernel, but the difference is, Leslie Howard could not convey action the way Power can. The Scarlet Pimpernel was a British forerunner of the American Zorro. However, what little action there was in that 1935 film was only suggested.

It would be irrelevant to compare Power to Fairbanks because they bring entirely different qualities to their films. Fairbanks was one of the most athletic performers to ever appear on the screen. His movements have been described as a sort of action ballet. There is less action in the 1940 film, but Power is more the romantic leading man than Fairbanks ever was, and his romance with Linda Darnell’s Lolita Quintero is an important aspect of this film’s success. The other great thing about Power is that, because he is a more reserved performer, he conveys thinking. He’s shrewd in this film, and you can see that, as when he’s deciding on which face to reveal for his audience.

Rather than looking backward to Fairbanks, I think there are more interesting parallels between Power and his contemporary, Errol Flynn. Both were of Irish descent. Both got their big breaks about the same time—Flynn in 1935’s Captain Blood and Power in 1936’s Lloyd’s of London. Both were transformed by their swashbuckling roles and would later try to break the mold of handsome adventurer. They would even die within a year of each other—Power in November 1958 and Flynn in October 1959. They had been good friends earlier in their careers and would star together years later in 1957’s The Sun Also Rises. But the biggest difference between them is that Tyrone Power was a gentleman beneath the surface and was, by all accounts, loved by those who knew him.

A year after appearing as Tyrone Power’s leading lady, Linda Darnell graduated high school. The Dallas-born teenager was only 17 when she appeared as the innocent Lolita Quintero. She had worked with Tyrone Power earlier at Fox and would be his leading lady again in 1941’s Blood and Sand. However, later in the decade, she would be anything but innocent in films like Fallen Angel and Forever Amber. Darnell became a Forties pin-up girl during the war years. In the movies, her beauty often overshadowed her talent, and hers was a career of ups and downs. She was always seeking recognition as an actress. Some of those critically-acclaimed roles came in films such as Unfaithfully Yours and A Letter to Three Wives. But by the 1950s her career had tapered off and, like Power, her life would come to a premature end. She died from burns caused by a house fire in Glenview, Illinois. She was only 41 years old.

Basil Rathbone plays the sneering Pasquale, the captain of the guard who is always toying with his sword. The role is very similar to his Sir Guy of Gisbourne in The Adventures of Robin Hood. He gives another one of his patented villain performances; there was no one better in this kind of a role. His manner was well-suited for these characters. Rathbone had a very incisive way of speaking, for instance, which made his villains direct and to the point. But Rathbone was much more than a villain, as anyone who knows the history of Sherlock Holmes can attest. (See earlier entry on Basil Rathbone.)

Also in the supporting cast are J. Edward Bromberg as the weak alcalde and Gale Sondergaarde as his socially-ambitious wife. Both would have shortened careers in Hollywood as a result of being blacklisted. As a bit of trivia, Bromberg, who often played immigrants, was actually considered for the role of Charlie Chan after the death of Warner Oland. Instead, Fox decided to cast Sidney Toler. As Vega’s father is Montagu Love, who played the bishop in The Adventures of Robin Hood. Finally, there’s Eugene Pallette as the sword-wielding padre– a character very similar to his Friar Tuck in the earlier Flynn movie.

In the disappointing audio commentary for the dvd release, critic Richard Schickel comments that all these characters are established early and that there is no character growth as the film develops; the characters remain basically as they are when we first see them. But that is the hallmark of a classic swashbuckler. Everything we need to know about that character is established early. People who understand the genre know that this is not an arena for psychological complexity. When swashbucklers have attempted that, such as the 1958 remake of The Buccaneer, they come across as pretentious. The Mark of Zorro gives us everything we need and dispenses with the superfluous.

The famous sword duel in this film was staged by Fred Cavens who had worked on so many swordfights including those seen in The Black Pirate, The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Sea Hawk, and many others. Though some writers have diminished Tyrone Power’s athleticism, the truth is he was not extensively doubled, although in a couple of the more dangerous shots Fred Cavens’ son, Albert, did fill in for him. Basil Rathbone, who was considered Hollywood’s finest swordsman, once said of Tyrone Power, “He could fence Errol Flynn into a cocked hat.” The sequence is certainly not as cinematic a duel as the one in The Adventures of Robin Hood, where characters have a wide range of props and sets to fight through, but it’s perhaps more intense because it’s confined to the space of a single room. There’s a bit in this sequence involving a candle, which was parodied in The Court Jester with Danny Kaye and Basil Rathbone.

The Mark of Zorro was directed by one of Hollywood’s great stylists, Rouben Mamoulian. Some of his best work came in the early talkie period where he showed an innovative use of sound in films like Applause and Love Me Tonight. He also made Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Queen Christina, Becky Sharp and Silk Stockings with Fred Astaire. He would direct Power and Darnell again in 1941’s Blood and Sand, a film which reflected Mamoulian’s philosophy of finding the poetry in the image– not necessarily the realism. Mamoulian was also noted for his theatre work on Broadway where he directed such musicals as Oklahoma and Carousel. His direction for The Mark of Zorro has been described as minimalist and that is very much the case; the action is never overwhelming. This is more obvious during the scene where Zorro makes himself known to Luis Quintero in the darkened room after he extinguishes the candle with his sword.

Rouben Mamoulian biographer Tom Milne writes, “’The first thing one notices about this sequence is how little (Zorro) actually does, his menace being suggested by a sword-point, his actions by sudden camera movements in the semi-obscurity of the garden. The second thing is that, although the whole sequence gives the impression of being one continuous movement, it is in fact—even the final flight over the wall—composed of a series of brief shots. Here Mamoulian is able to make full and free use of his technique of cutting on movement without interrupting the flow of action.”

Audiences get just enough action to remain thoroughly engaged, and it comes at the right moments. There is a nice rhythm to the film. There is a wonderful scene in a church between Tyrone Power and Linda Darnell and it develops beautifully. This is immediately counterbalanced by an exciting chase sequence that takes us back into swashbuckling mode. Contrast all this with the more recent remakes of the Zorro legend which offer a visual overload. Today, there are only two modes in mainstream films: faster and louder.

Besides being one of the finest examples of the swashbuckling genre. The Mark of Zorro is also one of the most fondly remembered films of Hollywood’s golden age. It turned its star, Tyrone Power, into an action hero, and it contains one of the best sword fights in cinema. On a personal note, it was one of the first swashbucklers I remember seeing on television’s “Family Classics” hosted by Frazier Thomas. Who could forget all those sombreros turning in unison as the masked night rider came storming into town upon his horse, offering hope to a village oppressed by tyranny. And that thrilling musical score by Alfred Newman is as indelible as the mark of Zorro itself. This film will leave its imprint upon all those who see it. The Mark of Zorro is the mark of the swashbuckler performing at his absolute best.

NOTE: Our screening of The Mark of Zorro became our highest-attended film in the series (at the library) thus far!