Quentin Durward: The Dying Days of Chivalry

Robert Taylor in the title role.

After Ivanhoe (1952) and Knights of the Round Table (1953), MGM was hoping the casting of Robert Taylor in a third medieval picture would once again generate big profits. Unfortunately, Quentin Durward (1955), which reteamed Taylor and director Richard Thorpe, failed to find an audience. That's puzzling for a movie that boasts colorful scenery, lively swordplay, and an affable cast. It may not be Ivanhoe, but Quentin Durward is an entertaining swashbuckler that deserved a better fate in '55 and should be more fondly remembered today.

Taylor plays the title character, a Scottish knight in 1465 who, by his own admission, was "born perhaps a few minutes too late." Quentin is an honorable, honest, valiant--and also poor--man. Alas, he lives during the "dying days of chivalry" when political intrigue and treachery dominate Europe.

This is not a painting, but one of the real castles used in the film.

Robert Morley as the French king.

His elderly uncle sends Quentin to France to arrange a marriage with the lovely and wealthy Isabelle, Countess of Marcroy. The Duke of Burgundy wants Isabelle (Kay Kendall) to marry Quentin's uncle, but the Countess refuses and seeks the protection of King Louis XI (Robert Morley). The King has his own plans for Isabelle's future and those plans naturally benefit Louis more than Isabelle. Meanwhile, Quentin gains King Louis' confidence and, of course, falls in love with the beautiful countess.

Veteran British actor George Cole.

While the castles and costumes may draw attention, the best swashbucklers rely on likable actors cast in well-written roles (e.g., The Adventures of Robin Hood, Scaramouche). That's good news for Quentin Durward, which provides Taylor with one of his best parts. He hits all the right notes as the valiant knight, but he also finds humor in the character (e.g., Quentin isn't shy about accepting money). Robert Morley softens King Louis' treacherous side by making him a royal rascal. And George Cole steals scenes aplenty as a gypsy who tries to rationalize his good deeds.

Kay Kendall--Grace Kelly was first
offered the part.

While Kay Kendall shows some spunk as Isabelle, the cool beauty lacks the sizzle that Elizabeth Taylor brought to Ivanhoe. That leads to the one significant flaw in Quentin Durward: the lack of a worthy villain. George Sanders was brilliant as the conflicted baddie in Ivanhoe. In his place, Quentin Durward offers a cardboard blackguard played by Duncan Lamont. I think Lamont could have played a worthy adversary, but his role is poorly-written and he's barely in the picture.

Taylor and Lamont do engage in one of my favorite swashbuckler duels. They swing on bell ropes over blazing flames as they lunge toward one another with their weapons. The fight ends too abruptly, but still ranks as one of the most original I've seen. (Click here to watch it on the Cafe's YouTube channel.)

In a 1954 Quentin Durward review, the venerable entertainment industry newspaper Variety wrote: "This lively film version of Walter Scott's Quentin Durward finds knighthood again in bloom with enough dash and costumer derring-do to make fans of swashbucklers happy." That's an accurate summary and, in my book, a pretty good endorsement for watching this forgotten favorite.

Ivanhoe and The Black Shield of Falworth: A '50s Swashbuckler Double-feature

Ivanhoe (1952)

Robert Taylor as Ivanhoe.

MGM mounted this colorful adaptation of Sir Walter Scott's tale of a noble Saxon knight trying to restore the throne of England to King Richard, who has been kidnapped by his brother Prince John. This popular, trendsetting film earned a Best Picture nomination and fueled other 1950s medieval actions films. The impressive action scenes include a thrilling jousting tournament, a large-scale assault on a castle, and a brutal climatic duel in which Robert Taylor and George Sanders whale on each other with axe and mace, respectively.

Elizabeth Taylor and George Sanders.

But what separates Ivanhoe from its peers is its low-key realism: Ivanhoe may be a nobleman, but he can't read; Ivanhoe's father is a kindly lord, but his servants still wear metal collars; and Elizabeth Taylor's Rebecca is shunned by Saxons and Normans alike because she is a Jew. The cast is in fine form, except for Joan  Fontaine--she brings no fire to her character, leaving one to wonder why Ivanhoe prefers her over the intelligent, gorgeous Rebecca.

Elizabeth Taylor as Rebecca.

Sanders provides surprising depth to his villain, whose lust--and eventual love--for Rebecca causes him much internal conflict. Emlyn Williams, who gives a delightful performance as a servant-turned-knight's squire, was also a successful playwright with stage hits such as Night Must Fall.  Robert Taylor and director Richard Thorpe teamed up for two other 1950s costume dramas, Knights of the Round Table (1953) and Quentin Durward (1955), also based on a Scott novel. The latter is the more entertaining of the two and features a nifty swordfight with the opponents swinging on ropes in a burning bell tower. Anthony Andrews played Ivanhoe in an above-average 1982 made-for-TV movie.

The Black Shield of Falworth (1954)

Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh.

This modestly-budgeted, by-the-numbers swashbuckler was clearly intended as a training ground for rising stars Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh (appearing in the second of their six films together). The radiant Leigh, draped in stunning gowns, is clearly more at home than Curtis. He struts around in tights like he was getting ready for a Brooklyn rumble. Still, he gets ample opportunity to display his athletic prowess and, considering that the film's hero is a hothead, his vigorous performance ultimately gets a passing grade.

Torin Thatcher and Curtis.

Set in England during the reign of Henry IV, the plot follows Myles (Curtis) and Meg (Barbara Rush), two peasant orphans who don't know that their noble father was unjustly branded a traitor. The local vicar sends them to live in the castle of the Earl of Mackworth, with Meg to attend the earl's daughter Lady Anne (Leigh) and Curtis to be trained as a squire. Once Mackworth realizes Myle's true identity, he hatches a plot to use him to defeat the evil Earl of Alban--who is plotting to overthrow the king and also happens to have been responsible for the death of Myle's father.

David Farrar (right) as the villain.

The Black Shield of Falworth gets a huge boost from an outstanding supporting cast:  Herbert Marshall as the fatherly Mackworth; Dan O'Herlihy as Prince Hal, who plays the fool to deceive the bad guys; David Farrar as the villainous Alban (decked out in black from head to toe); and Torin Thatcher as the eye-patched, staff-wielding taskmaster that transforms Myles into a valiant warrior.  One wishes that these fine performers received more screen time, but their presence is reason enough to spend 99 minutes with The Black Shield of Falworth. Plus, at the risk of sounding shallow, the two leads are easy on the eyes.

The Greatest Dramatic Female Role: Camille

In 1852 Alexandre Dumas, fils., published his dramatic novel La Dame aux Camelias. After becoming an overwhelming success in France, the novel was adapted into what is considered the most popular stage play ever produced: “Camille”. Based on Dumas’ own relationship with the tuberculosis-ridden courtesan Marie du Plessis, the story has seen countless retellings on both the stage and screen.  The most recent film adaptation is Baz Luhrmann’s outstanding musical, Moulin Rouge (2001), starring Nicole Kidman as Satine. And, if you happened to be at the Met on New Year’s Eve you saw the newest (and most energetic) version of Verdi’s “La Traviata”—the operatic retelling of “Camille” (but with a name change to Violetta). Whatever name the female lead is given, the story of “Camille” is one every actress worth her salt wants to play.  The New York Times said it best in 1904: “What the North Pole is to the intrepid explorer seeking for fame Camille is to the actress. It is the undiscovered country, always alluring, always fascinating. No other role—unless it be possibly that of Juliet—holds such potent attractiveness for the ambitious woman player.”

Greta Garbo was an ambitious woman player, and in 1936 she gave her greatest dramatic performance in the film Camille. Aided by the steady hand of director George Cukor, Garbo delivered the definitive portrayal of the doomed Parisian courtesan. Although she was nominated for a Best Actress Academy Award, Garbo lost to Luise Rainer in The Good Earth. (I have a big issue with this not only because I believe Garbo was more deserving, but because Barbara Stanwyck’s nominated performance in Stella Dallas was better as well.)  Sadly, legendary MGM producer Irving Thalberg didn’t live to see this film to its end, but if he had to die and leave one film behind, this was the one.

In the film, Garbo plays Marguerite “Camille” Gautier, a beautiful Parisian courtesan plagued with tuberculosis in mid-19th century Paris. Tuberculosis isn’t the only thing Marguerite is plagued with, though—she has a “heart bigger than her purse” and this leads her into a fateful love triangle with the rich Baron de Varville (Henry Daniell) and the handsome, but not rich, Armand Duval (Robert Taylor).

While Marguerite obviously loves Arnaud, she constantly pushes him away due to her financial needs, as well as her fear of being in love—she doesn’t believe it lasts. One of the more telling lines about her financial needs comes when Arnaud offers to take her to the country on his seven thousand francs a year and she says she spends more than that in a month.  Yet, somehow he convinces her to ditch the Baron and retreat to the country with him.

Once Marguerite makes the difficult decision to leave the Baron, she has to deal with the act of telling him and procuring from him 40,000 francs to cover her debts.  Henry Daniell is really good in this scene (actually, he’s good in the entire film, but this is his best scene). He plays it with just the right amount of wounded pride and anger. I especially enjoy watching him tell Marguerite that he’s glad to get rid of such a fool and then slaps her across the face after he gives her the money.

And so for a time, Marguerite and Arnaud live blissfully in the French countryside. Yet, money and Marguerite’s past are still an issue. Their happiness comes to an end when Arnaud’s father (Lionel Barrymore) pays Marguerite a surprise visit and asks her to give Arnaud up to save his diplomatic career. In every film they appeared in together Barrymore and Garbo always played well off one another, and this scene is probably one of their more memorable. At first, it is a feisty confrontation between the two, but once Monsieur Duval realizes Marguerite loves his son his tone becomes more sympathetic. Still, in the end, he convinces her to give his son up. And this brings us to the three most unforgettable scenes in the film.

Knowing that she can’t convince Arnaud that she doesn’t love him, she does the only thing she knows will sever their relationship forever: she chooses money and the Baron over him. The look on Robert Taylor’s face when Marguerite walks out the door is priceless. Garbo is more than believably callous in this confrontation.

Hardened by his dismissal from Marguerite, Arnaud seems like a totally different man when he meets Marguerite and the Baron at a casino.  Quoting the quintessential line of the play (and a play that they’ve just come from), Arnaud says it is “The story of a man who loved a woman more than his honor and a woman who wanted luxury more than his love.” This leads to a strange face-off between Arnaud and the Baron at the baccarat table, where Arnaud wins a fortune. Still, after all that she’s done to him, Arnaud begs Marguerite to run away with him. When he says that she will be free of him forever if she can say that she loves the Baron, Garbo’s Marguerite makes her final sacrifice and says yes.  This is painful to watch, it is so emotionally raw. You compound this with Arnaud’s throwing his winnings at her feet and declaring he owes her nothing now that he has paid his debt, and you have one helluva confrontation. Of course, this leads to a duel in which the Baron is wounded and from which Arnaud must leave the country. 

But what happens in the end, you ask? It’s a tragic love story, so have some tissues close at hand when you watch to find out that answer. Needless to say, it is a classic ending…one you will never forget.

This was Garbo’s favorite role. In it she showed just how talented she was.  There are few actresses who truly make you believe they are the character they are portraying, but Garbo embodies this role completely.  It is truly one of the greatest female screen performances ever.

There are very few films that I rate as excellent, but this is one that I thinks deserves that ranking.  The story is a timeless tale of sacrificial love—a favorite theme of mine.  The acting is of superior caliber, especially Garbo and Daniell. For those who are enraptured by elegant, luxurious costumes, this film delivers. Garbo looks stunning in all of her gowns (lots of flounces and ruffles) and the men appear dashing and debonair in their 19th century long coats and top hats. Overall, it is a spectacular production that all classic cinema fans should encounter at least once…if not several times.