Even at my ripe old age, I missed ‘the Golden Age of Hollywood’ by a decade or two.
Beginning in the 1920’s and running into the 1960’s, Tinseltown managed to create an incredible number of spectacles intended to put butts in the seats (as they say), with some of the industry’s biggest names both in front of the camera and behind doing what they could to serve up one extravagant display after another. Whether these were Musicals, Dramas, or classics inspired by history, viewers were captivated by the splendor of it all. Rarely can moviegoers appreciate escapism by leaping into the past, but if the effort turns out relatable characters, impressive costumes, and themes that resonate across the centuries, then why shouldn’t they take such a trip? The worst that could happen is that they get a bit educated along the way, and even that shouldn’t be considered an insignificant benefit.
Directed by Richard Thorpe, 1953’s Knights Of The Round Table is exactly the kind of thing Hollywood used to do quite well. Essentially, it was a grand spectacle exploring the ideas of love and loyalty set against the backdrop of more than a small measure of royal intrigue. Based on a work from Thomas Malory, screenwriters Noel Langley, Jan Lustig, and Talbot Jennings adapted the story of King Arthur, Lady Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot for the silver screen. The picture starred such names as Robert Taylor, Ava Gardner, Mel Ferrer, Anne Crawford, and Stanley Baker in prominent roles; and the picture went on not only gross approximately $8M globally but also garnered two Academy Awards nominations in technical categories.
Wondering just how well Knights holds up?
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“King Arthur's rule is threatened by the adulterous love between Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere, a relationship the king's enemies hope to exploit.”
Admittedly, I’m not as familiar with King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table as I wish I were.
Beginning in the 1920’s and running into the 1960’s, Tinseltown managed to create an incredible number of spectacles intended to put butts in the seats (as they say), with some of the industry’s biggest names both in front of the camera and behind doing what they could to serve up one extravagant display after another. Whether these were Musicals, Dramas, or classics inspired by history, viewers were captivated by the splendor of it all. Rarely can moviegoers appreciate escapism by leaping into the past, but if the effort turns out relatable characters, impressive costumes, and themes that resonate across the centuries, then why shouldn’t they take such a trip? The worst that could happen is that they get a bit educated along the way, and even that shouldn’t be considered an insignificant benefit.
Directed by Richard Thorpe, 1953’s Knights Of The Round Table is exactly the kind of thing Hollywood used to do quite well. Essentially, it was a grand spectacle exploring the ideas of love and loyalty set against the backdrop of more than a small measure of royal intrigue. Based on a work from Thomas Malory, screenwriters Noel Langley, Jan Lustig, and Talbot Jennings adapted the story of King Arthur, Lady Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot for the silver screen. The picture starred such names as Robert Taylor, Ava Gardner, Mel Ferrer, Anne Crawford, and Stanley Baker in prominent roles; and the picture went on not only gross approximately $8M globally but also garnered two Academy Awards nominations in technical categories.
Wondering just how well Knights holds up?
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“King Arthur's rule is threatened by the adulterous love between Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere, a relationship the king's enemies hope to exploit.”
Admittedly, I’m not as familiar with King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table as I wish I were.
Oh, sure, I’ve seen Monty Python And The Holy Grail (1975) as a good many of us living and breathing have, so I’m more than familiar with the overall arc of the story (which really only loosely – very loosely – relates to that Comedy Classic). I’m also very familiar with 1981’s Excalibur, the elaborate retelling of the whole Arthurian myth brought to life by John Boorman. I know the names of Arthur, Merlin, Guinevere, Lancelot, Percival, and a few others; and I’m well aware of the sword being pulled out of the stone, the ill-fated romance that led to a betrayal of friendships, and the basic backdrop of Camelot serving as a 12th century Utopia. Though I’m no expert, I certainly possess the working familiarity with the whole saga.
For all intents and purposes, I think it’s appropriate to think of 1953’s Knights Of The Round Table alongside other cinematic showstoppers from that decade even though Knights might creep in a bit underwhelming.
It lacks a lot of the big studio polish reserved for the Biblical efforts – 1956’s The Ten Commandments and 1959’s Ben-Hur – and, frankly probably lacks a bit of star power. Mel Ferrer – as King Arthur – was definitely in his heyday (as even a Google.com search can assure readers); but Robert Taylor – as his close confidante Sir Lancelot – was coming down a bit from his leading man status of the 30’s and 40’s. Both work well against one another – or, at least, as well as the script was designed – but Ferrer is never really given any major screen moment (a vivid speech or some dramatic athletic combat) that typifies why his Arthur was the man who would be king. (Of course, there’s the sword in the stone moment, but it’s handled fairly casually.) Though Gardner as Guinevere is quite exquisite, the bulk of her screen time involves longing glances and looking pretty, two skills any number of actresses of her caliber could deliver.
Still, because so much of Knights outside of the epic warfare sequences feels a bit more like half-baked melodrama none of the screen talent ever gets the chance to truly let loose with some memorable work. Ferrer is mostly stoic – albeit looking regal when it’s required – and never delivers a relatable snatch of dialogue, allowing his words to pretty much linger until someone else has something to add. In contrast, Taylor’s delivery hits like it’s a comfortable middle ground between Shakespearean English or recitations of epic poetry, at least giving his work a bit more flair when necessary. Gabriel Woolf (as Percival) largely matches Taylor’s best bits, so the two of them minimally sound like they’re in sync even when everyone else is coasting on the Thespian laurels.
However, Anne Crawford’s Morgan Le Fay and Stanley Baker’s Modred do their respective parts proud as they’re chiefly paired up as the disgraced royals who are just waiting in the wings to make problems for Arthur on the throne. (God bless the screenwriters for knowing how much stories of this caliber require some classic villainy!) They seethe in the background, making eyes at one another while they’re trying to contemplate some devious machination to either curry favor with Arthur’s fledgling enemies or the cast of background actors and actresses looking for stealing their own scenes. While I would’ve liked to have seen a bit more screen time given to both of them, it’s still clear that these two talents understood what their respective parts were, and they hit their marks wonderfully.
Also, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention Maureen Swanson’s Elaine, the fair maiden who in classic style gets unintentionally swept off her feet by Lancelot’s chiseled good looks and knightly demeanor. Appearing early in the picture, she’s easily smitten with the man’s charms – in part because she’s had few other potential suitors to compare him to – and it isn’t long before she’s added to the court at Camelot, filling out a kinda/sorta royal assignment to assuage the threat of misplaced affections falling on Lancelot and Guinevere. Her departure in the arms of the man of her dreams works naturally; and her inevitable demise owed to nothing more than a cruel twist of fate is the stuff that makes mythology relatable whether we like it or not.
For all intents and purposes, I think it’s appropriate to think of 1953’s Knights Of The Round Table alongside other cinematic showstoppers from that decade even though Knights might creep in a bit underwhelming.
It lacks a lot of the big studio polish reserved for the Biblical efforts – 1956’s The Ten Commandments and 1959’s Ben-Hur – and, frankly probably lacks a bit of star power. Mel Ferrer – as King Arthur – was definitely in his heyday (as even a Google.com search can assure readers); but Robert Taylor – as his close confidante Sir Lancelot – was coming down a bit from his leading man status of the 30’s and 40’s. Both work well against one another – or, at least, as well as the script was designed – but Ferrer is never really given any major screen moment (a vivid speech or some dramatic athletic combat) that typifies why his Arthur was the man who would be king. (Of course, there’s the sword in the stone moment, but it’s handled fairly casually.) Though Gardner as Guinevere is quite exquisite, the bulk of her screen time involves longing glances and looking pretty, two skills any number of actresses of her caliber could deliver.
Still, because so much of Knights outside of the epic warfare sequences feels a bit more like half-baked melodrama none of the screen talent ever gets the chance to truly let loose with some memorable work. Ferrer is mostly stoic – albeit looking regal when it’s required – and never delivers a relatable snatch of dialogue, allowing his words to pretty much linger until someone else has something to add. In contrast, Taylor’s delivery hits like it’s a comfortable middle ground between Shakespearean English or recitations of epic poetry, at least giving his work a bit more flair when necessary. Gabriel Woolf (as Percival) largely matches Taylor’s best bits, so the two of them minimally sound like they’re in sync even when everyone else is coasting on the Thespian laurels.
However, Anne Crawford’s Morgan Le Fay and Stanley Baker’s Modred do their respective parts proud as they’re chiefly paired up as the disgraced royals who are just waiting in the wings to make problems for Arthur on the throne. (God bless the screenwriters for knowing how much stories of this caliber require some classic villainy!) They seethe in the background, making eyes at one another while they’re trying to contemplate some devious machination to either curry favor with Arthur’s fledgling enemies or the cast of background actors and actresses looking for stealing their own scenes. While I would’ve liked to have seen a bit more screen time given to both of them, it’s still clear that these two talents understood what their respective parts were, and they hit their marks wonderfully.
Also, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention Maureen Swanson’s Elaine, the fair maiden who in classic style gets unintentionally swept off her feet by Lancelot’s chiseled good looks and knightly demeanor. Appearing early in the picture, she’s easily smitten with the man’s charms – in part because she’s had few other potential suitors to compare him to – and it isn’t long before she’s added to the court at Camelot, filling out a kinda/sorta royal assignment to assuage the threat of misplaced affections falling on Lancelot and Guinevere. Her departure in the arms of the man of her dreams works naturally; and her inevitable demise owed to nothing more than a cruel twist of fate is the stuff that makes mythology relatable whether we like it or not.
As a whole, I suppose it’s safe to say that Knights works well as a somewhat stuffy and high-brow period adaptation; but the picture is still a bit small on memorable moments. Yes, the battlefield clashes are the kind of thing Hollywood was up in arms over in the 1950’s, and those sequences – while sometimes laughably choreographed – hold up quite well so far as this incarnation is concerned. But as the aforementioned epics used character dialogue and speeches to better effect, Knights just never finds the moments that could’ve elevated this story to true epic status.
It’s good … but it’s no Excalibur.
Knights Of The Round Table (1953) was produced by Loew’s Incorporated. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that the provided sights-and-sounds are quite good throughout the picture: there are a few sequences early on wherein the – ahem – special effects wizardry doesn’t work quite so well as I’ve seen elsewhere in flicks of the era, but it is what it is at this juncture. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an intro from Ferrer along with a few other bits drawn from the wider Warner Bros. catalogue, including a cartoon short and the theatrical trailer.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
One of the chief problems I’ve had with Hollywood’s big spectacle pictures is that essentially I find them only big on visuals yet flat on delivery; and that’s the greatest stumbling block to Knights Of The Round Table (1953). Though it looks grand – exactly they way a screen epic should – the performances across the board are reasonably flat. Maureen Swanson’s Elaine and Robert Taylor’s Lancelot are debatably the best thing in all of it – Elaine, too briefly, as well – but Mel Ferrer’s Arthur and Ava Gardner’s Guinevere lack any real depth or range in scenes that could’ve used even a small hint of either. Production details are solid, but the two-hour running time feels a bit long in the second half especially. Come for the spectacle … as that’s about all it offers.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Knights Of The Round Table (1953) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
It’s good … but it’s no Excalibur.
Knights Of The Round Table (1953) was produced by Loew’s Incorporated. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that the provided sights-and-sounds are quite good throughout the picture: there are a few sequences early on wherein the – ahem – special effects wizardry doesn’t work quite so well as I’ve seen elsewhere in flicks of the era, but it is what it is at this juncture. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an intro from Ferrer along with a few other bits drawn from the wider Warner Bros. catalogue, including a cartoon short and the theatrical trailer.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
One of the chief problems I’ve had with Hollywood’s big spectacle pictures is that essentially I find them only big on visuals yet flat on delivery; and that’s the greatest stumbling block to Knights Of The Round Table (1953). Though it looks grand – exactly they way a screen epic should – the performances across the board are reasonably flat. Maureen Swanson’s Elaine and Robert Taylor’s Lancelot are debatably the best thing in all of it – Elaine, too briefly, as well – but Mel Ferrer’s Arthur and Ava Gardner’s Guinevere lack any real depth or range in scenes that could’ve used even a small hint of either. Production details are solid, but the two-hour running time feels a bit long in the second half especially. Come for the spectacle … as that’s about all it offers.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Knights Of The Round Table (1953) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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