The Adventures of Robin Hood

I had never seen an Errol Flynn movie before sitting down to watch The Adventures of Robin Hood.  It's not all that surprising, I suppose; swashbuckling movies have been out of style for decades, and the rest of Flynn's body of work consists mostly of action-adventure movies in a period where I prefer moody noirs.  Honestly, I can't think of an instance where someone has even recommended an Errol Flynn movie to me; it is entirely possible that my knowledge of Flynn comes from references made by Nightcrawler in X-Men comic books.  Still, a legend is a legend, and I thought it was past time I gave Mr. Flynn a chance.

I think we all know the basic story in The Adventures of Robin Hood by now.  The rightful king of England, Richard the Lionheart, is kidnapped by another country as he attempted to return home from the Crusades.  Richard's slimy brother, John (Claude Rains), has been temporary ruler of the land for some time, and has enjoyed living a life of luxury while oppressing the Saxon lower classes.  When he hears of his brother's trouble abroad, John takes it upon himself to raise taxes to pay for Richard's ransom.

If this was a movie trailer, you would have heard a record scratch after I typed that

Just kidding!  John is allegedly raising the cash to save the crowd favorite king, but he is secretly plotting to use the money to legitimately crown himself king.  Won't anyone stand up to this mean, mean man?  Enter Robin, Earl of Locksley (Errol Flynn).  He takes it upon himself to denounce John (in John's own castle, to boot!) and promises to fight him at every opportunity.  I could go into more detail, but the rest of the film basically follows the same major plot points that the later remakes have.  Basically, Robin Hood becomes a thorn in John's side and Robin does his best to topple the would-be king.

And by "topple," I of course mean "impale"

Okay, so my first impression of The Adventures of Robin Hood wasn't that great.  It's certainly not bad, but it failed to impress me the same way that contemporary films like Pepe le Moko, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, or even another epic like Gunga Din.  I have my suspicions as to why that is, but I'll wait a bit to explain.

Hint: it has nothing to do with silly hats

The acting in The Adventures of Robin Hood is okay for the time period, but not remarkable on the whole.  Errol Flynn is naturally who you picture when you think of this movie, but there is something about his performance that doesn't click with me.  Flynn's action scenes were pretty good for the time period and it appears that he did many of his own stunts, so I like him in those bits.  It's the abruptness of his performance elsewhere that just felt odd to me.  He would go from a feisty political rant to hands-on-his-hips-head-tilted-back laughter at a moment's notice.  I will admit that Flynn looks like he's having fun on-screen, but he comes across more as an egomaniacal jerk than a hero to me. 

"'Sup, bitches?!?"

Olivia de Havilland is fine as Maid Marian; she gives a lot of dreamy eyes to Robin Hood to convey her love --- which is by no means a bad method --- but I thought the attempts to make her more than a damsel in distress, while interesting, ultimately failed. Basil Rathbone was solid as Robin's chief enemy, the Sheriff of Nottingham Sir Guy of Gisbourne.  He didn't ham it up, but Rathbone did seethe dislike for his enemy well.  Claude Rains was suitably slimy as Prince John.  I spent most of the time he was onscreen staring, mouth-agape at his ridiculous wig and disgusting beard.

Great.  Now I've hurt his feelings.

Melville Cooper was pretty good as the Sheriff of Nottingham, although his character is a lot dumber and far less threatening than just about anyone else who's played the part.  As for Robin's Merry Men, Patric Knowles matched Flynn's hands-on-hips laughter, Alan Hale played a surprisingly regular-sized Little John, and the always vocally distinctive Eugene Pallette was probably my favorite underling as the ornery Friar Tuck.

"Why, you're in Technicolor, too!"

Two men get credit for directing The Adventures of Robin Hood.  William Keighley was hired first, but was eventually replaced by Michael Curtiz when the producers were not impressed by the action scenes.  And yet, enough of both men's work made the final cut to justify co-director credits, which is odd.  I can definitely attest that some of Curtiz's action direction worked well; the sword fighting scenes in the castle are still a standard for sword fights in film.  Personally, I would have rather seen less fencing swordplay and more Princess Bride-style fighting, but it's still good, especially for the era.  I don't like that many action scenes are sped-up to look faster, but Flynn is clearly at his best in these sequences.

"You are using Bonetti's Defense against me, eh?"

It should also be pointed out that many of these scenes have become iconic; watching shadows fencing in the castle was a nice touch and Robin splitting an arrow to win the archery tournament is still classic.  The size of the production is also impressive.  The sets are enormous and there are tons and tons of extras, all wearing their gaudiest tights and hats.  The color in this film is surprisingly vivid, even by today's standards; I don't normally point out the novelty of color in films, but everything is gorgeous and bright, especially the outdoors scenes.

Everything about this movie screams "epic," for better or worse.  To go along with the huge scale, the acting performances are also very broad.  Here's the thing about the acting in The Adventures of Robin Hood: the supporting cast is playing to fit Errol Flynn's lead.  If you don't like how he delivers his lines or reacts to certain things, the supporting cast isn't going to impress you, because they are more or less props for Flynn to dash around.  This is not a subtle movie that wins you over through clever dialogue or interesting camera techniques.  This is a Hollywood blockbuster, dedicated to spectacle.  In that, it is successful.  But there are so many moments in The Adventures of Robin Hood that are not epic, and that is where this film stumbles.

Another mistake: introducing cat-style grooming to romances

Sure, I can agree that an arrow in the torso causes instant death, every time.  Yes, I am aware that Robin Hood is shown eating meat off the bone a comical amount of the time.  No, I don't care that the whole Normans and Saxons subplot is blown way out of proportion.  What I can't stand is that only villains are irritated by Robin Hood.  He rubs every single character he meets wrong at first, but eventually wins them over by being a complete dick and then laughing out loud.  And he's an attention whore!  When Richard finally reveals himself to John, it's definitely a King Moment; after maybe a second of time to react, Robin jumps in front of everybody and essentially screams "Look at me!!!"  Maybe my problem is that I never bought into Errol Flynn's performance enough and enjoyed the ride.  There are enough over-the-top quirks in this film that I can see being sources of joy for a true fan, the same way I enjoy the imperfections of many of my favorites.  Unfortunately, I was hoping for a classic and found the 1938 equivalent of a Summer blockbuster.  It's fine for what it is, I suppose, but I was left wanting more.

White Christmas

The movie world is a very different place now than it was in 1954, when White Christmas was released theatrically.  Want proof?  It was the year's top grossing movie (yes, a Christmas movie was the year's big earner), with around $12 million earned.  To put that in perspective, that is less than Sharon Stone earned for Basic Instinct 2, one of the biggest flops of all time.

Back in the good ol' days of World War II, on Christmas Eve 1944, the men under the command of Major General Thomas Waverly (Dean Jagger) are treated to a show, unbeknownst to the Major General.  You see, a famous Broadway singer, Bob Wallace (Bing Crosby) is in the troop, and a low-level solider, Phil Davis (Danny Kaye), managed to convince his superiors to let Bob sing to everyone.  Sure, they're surrounded by mortar fire and unprotected, but it's Christmas Eve, sir...!  Well, after General Waverly announces his presence to the crowd, Bob and Phil give him a farewell tribute song, because the Major General is being relieved of his command.  The song ("The Old Man") explains that these men will follow Waverly wherever he wants to go (except toward battle) because "we love him."  That might seem like an odd lyric to repeat during a military tribute song, but you have to remember that Don't Ask Don't Tell wasn't in effect until 1993 --- side note: thank goodness that nonsense has finally been repealed.  Anyway, some mortar rounds finally reach the group and everyone scatters; Phil saves Bob's life and takes a small arm wound in the bargain.  That's okay, though, because Phil takes this life debt and turns it into a successful Broadway partnership with Bob when they get back from the war.

Fast forward a few years, and the fabulous team of Wallace and Davis are getting boffo reviews on Broadway, thanks to a montage where the characters don't appear to age a day.  Success is great, but Phil is getting tired of the grind; he keeps trying to find Bob a woman so he'll slow his professional life down, if just by a little.  Enter the Haynes Sisters; Judy (Vera-Ellen) and Betty (Rosemary Clooney).  They are the kid sisters of "Freckle-Faced Haynes, the dog-faced boy" (actually, the grown-up Little Rascal, Alfalfa), they have a song-and-dance act, and they want advice from the famous Wallace and Davis team.  Judy and Phil notice (while they are dancing) that Bob and Betty seem to be getting along (they're actually arguing), so Phil connives a way to get himself and Bob up to Vermont the next night, where the Haynes sisters will be featured performers at a ski lodge.  That particular ski lodge happens to be owned by former Major General Waverly, and it is in major financial trouble, thanks to unseasonably warm weather.  Who wants to ski on green grass?  Dirty hippies, that's who.  And they won't even exist for another thirteen years, so that's a bust.  Can Wallace and Davis help save General Waverly's business?  Will Bob ever fall in love?  Those questions and more will be answered by the end of this gripping mystery/thriller/peyote-influenced art film musical.

How does this former blockbuster stand up to the test of time?  It helps that the fim knows its strengths.  Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney have powerful voices, and their scenes are obviously catered to that.  Danny Kaye and Vera-Ellen are talented dancers (her more than him), and their scenes cater to their talents, as well.  I also appreciate that this musical confines the songs mostly to performances and leaves the plot development to the dialogue --- that also means that the songs take place in reality and everyone around knows that they're supposed to be singing (for the most part).  Nothing drives me battier than watching a musical where everyone in a scene is suddenly a professional singer and dancer and then, when the scene is over, they all continue on with their lives.  Yes, I'm a crotchety old man when it comes to musicals.  And while this isn't the first use of "White Christmas" in a film (that honor goes to Holiday Inn), its inclusion here is the obvious highlight of the soundtrack; the rest of the Irving Berlin-written songs are pretty solid, too, especially "Snow" and "Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep."  Heck, even the trite "Sisters" is entertaining when Crosby and Kaye perform it.

The performances are decent, but nothing special.  Honestly, I expected more out of Michael Curtiz (director of Casablanca), but I suppose that directing a musical is a very different experience than directing a drama; like I mentioned before, the movie plays to its strengths, and that is largely because of Curtiz.  Rosemary Clooney probably does the best job expressing emotions, but her character is ridiculously fickle when it comes to those same emotions.  Bing Crosby doesn't have much range, but he's there to provide a voice.  His character is more or less pushed through the film by Danny Kaye, who shoulders most of the comedic burden, even as he propels the plot forward; I don't particularly like Danny Kaye, but his overacting fits well in this setting.  Vera-Ellen is definitely the acting lightweight in this movie; while she is a talented dancer, it looks like she is never dancing in character, and since dancing is her focal point here, that's a problem.  You might also look at Vera-Ellen and notice how ridiculously thin she is --- she can't have more than twelve pounds of flesh and organs on that frame --- and wonder why she always has something covering her neck in this movie.  If you're curious, check this out.

You would think that the primary parts of this film that age poorly would be the singing and dancing (well, that's what I would assume, anyway), but that's not the case here --- except when Rosemary Clooney sings "I wash my hair with snow," because that's damned unlikely.  The plot definitely proves itself as the weakest link in this story.  How much of this movie would have been cut if characters had just stopped acting on half-bits of information?  Two of the biggest plot points in the film are based upon a character misconstruing the facts and not bothering to explain themselves to Bing Crosby.  The acting is mostly acceptable for a musical, but Vera-Ellen makes a point to look directly at the camera whenever she dances, which just bugs me.  This isn't porn, Vera, you don't have to gaze at the viewer like that...pay attention to the other people in your scenes! 

Overall, though, White Christmas gets the job done.  It's pretty entertaining, the songs are pretty good, and the people doing the singing and dancing are obviously good at what they do.  The movie even manages to pull on the ol' heartstrings when General Waverly makes his uniformed appearance near the end of the movie.  I don't know if this deserved to be the clear number one hit of 1954, but it stands the test of time as a good musical and a pretty solid Christmas movie.