IVANHOE (MGM, 1952) Warner Home Video

Odd – Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer should have developed its yen for the swashbuckler at precisely the wrinkle in time when Warner Bros. and Errol Flynn were parting company; Flynn, altogether (well, almost) bowing out from his indentured sword play. Curious… and, as it turned out, perfectly timed. In the early 1950’s the whole of Hollywood was in a mad scramble to redefine itself in a post-war America; the cloistered and studio-bound intimate melodramas, and, lithe and escapist musical fare that had buoyed the nation during those terrible years of conflict, now suddenly considered passé at best. Deprived of their grandiosity during the cost-cutting war years, MGM, purveyors of the grandest entertainments in the world, dove headstrong into the gloss and spectacle of daring do, set centuries before, to maximize their dwindling profits. Metro was never what one might reference as a ‘forward thinking’ studio. Indeed, at war’s end, all L.B. Mayer could think of was to mark a return to those heady days before, by producing more of the same lavishly appointed escapism that had been the studio’s bread and butter a decade earlier. Times, however, had changed – and arguably, not for the better. And Mayer himself would discover just how much, as his once Teflon-coated edicts were then being eroded by the new management. After a particularly heated disagreement with Loew’s Incorporated boss, Nicholas Schenk in 1950, Mayer was unceremoniously deposed in a power play/cliffhanger worthy of a prime-time soap. With Mayer gone, MGM struggled to find its creative niche; the scuffle exacerbated by Dore Schary’s appointment as his successor. Schary preferred small ‘message pictures’ shot cheaply and with a look of faux reality, to the spectacular high-gloss escapist fantasies Metro was used to making. Nevertheless, Schary was not altogether inept in acknowledging such entertainments, while on the wane, still had a following at the box office. And anything that could make MGM money in the inflation-driven fifties was fair game.

So, Richard Thorpe’s Ivanhoe (1952), made under the Anglo-American alliance Mayer had so effectively fostered all the way back in 1936, and, produced by Hollywood stalwart, former RKO executive, Pandro S. Berman, made it to the screen without Schary’s meddling, either in budget or artistic sentiment. Not so much with the screenplay, cobbled together by Æneas MacKenzie, Noel Langley and Marguerite Roberts. This took its share of artistic liberties with the beloved Sir Walter Scott novel. Some alterations were minor – as in the novel, Ivanhoe arrives in England disguised as a palmer from Palestine, while in the movie he is posing as a troubadour. In order to streamline the narrative, the movie omitted several high-profile characters in the book, including Gurth the Swineherd, Athelstane of Coningsburgh, Ulrica of Torquilstone, Lucas Beaumanoir - Grand Master of the Templars (virtually all references to the Templars vanished from the movie) – along with Prior Aymer of Jorvaulx. In their absence was substituted a gaggle of nondescript crusaders. To expedite the action, Ivanhoe's injuries incurred at the outset rapidly healed so the picture’s star, Robert Taylor could partake of the siege on Torquilstone Castle. The movie also chose to minimize King Richard’s participation (he does not appear until the end of the movie) and further altered circumstances so Rebecca was tried and sentenced by the Templars, not Prince John. Perhaps to heighten the action, Taylor’s hero was witnessed in two decidedly unheroic acts during the siege on Torquilstone; stabbing a Norman sentry in the back with a dagger; then, shooting a Norman squire from behind with his crossbow bolt. Thereafter, Ivanhoe assumed the role of the Black Knight (in the novel, King Richard takes on this disguise).

Benefitting immensely from Metro’s vast storehouse of props and costumes previously assembled for other like-minded fare, Ivanhoe was also the benefactor of Thorpe’s tireless/workhorse acumen, having made 81 features prior to it, including a goodly number of musicals. In retrospect, and apart from Miklos Rozsa’s bombastic score, there is something almost lyrical about Ivanhoe; the way Thorpe directs this sprawling period costume epic with a rollicking finesse, split in its investment between the economical connect-the-dots manner to merely get the job done - as many of Metro’s finest movie musicals were assembled then – with just enough connective tissue via dialogue to get them from one production number to the next (or, in Ivanhoe’s case, from one exhilarating action sequence to the other) and the slightly more Teutonic pacing of a vintage MGM adventure yarn. Seemingly to have spared no expense, the studio actually pillaged its own storehouse for props, but stock-piled Ivanhoe’s cast with an exceptional roster of megawatt star power. Robert Taylor – a bit long-in-the-tooth to be the dashing ‘gentleman’s knight’ of Scott’s novel, emerged from beneath the chain mail and flouncy shirts, as the irrefutable victor. In matters of love, MGM pitted the smoldering aplomb of resident sexpot, Elizabeth Taylor (as Rebecca) with Joan Fontaine’s more glacial beauty (the nobler, Rowena). For authenticity, the studio populated the backdrop with Brit-based character actors: George Sanders (as the despicable De Bois-Guilbert), Emlyn Williams (Wamba), Finlay Currie (Cedric), and Felix Aylmer (Isaac) bringing up the rear. Today, Ivanhoe is widely regarded as the kick-start to an unofficial ‘trilogy’ of swashbucklers: followed almost immediately – if less successfully, by the first in Cinemascope - Knights of the Round Table (1953) and, finally, The Adventures of Quentin Durward (1955): all three, made at MGM's British Studios at Elstree, near London.

Our story begins on an ominous precursor; King Richard, the Lionheart’s (Norman Wooland) disappearance while returning from one of his crusades. The Saxon, Wilfred of Ivanhoe (Robert Taylor), endeavors to learn what has become of his monarch, eventually discovering Richard a prisoner of Leopold of Austria. Although the King’s brother, Prince John (Guy Rolfe) is well aware of his predicament abroad he does nothing, savoring instead his own autonomy to unjustly rule in Richard’s stead. Returning to England, Ivanhoe, masquerading as a minstrel, is introduced to Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert (George Sanders) and Sir Hugh de Bracy (Robert Douglas), two Norman supporters backing John’s ascendency to the throne. Seeking shelter from the night, Ivanhoe invites de Bois-Gilbert and de Bracy to Rotherwood, his ancestral home overseen by his father, Cedric (Finlay Currie). Standoffish, though offering them comfort, Cedric attends to his guests while Ivanhoe skulks off to the chamber of Cedric’s ward, Lady Rowena (Joan Fontaine). Later, Ivanhoe pleads with Cedric to secure the King’s ransom of 150,000 marks.  Alas, Cedric wants no part of this sordid affair. When Ivanhoe departs, the old man’s jester, Wamba (Emlyn Williams), pleads to follow, and is made Ivanhoe’s squire. Together, they rescue Jew Isaac of York (Felix Aylmer) from two Norman soldiers. Afterward, Isaac is escorted by Ivanhoe back to his home in Sheffield. Introduced to Isaac’s daughter, the fair Rebecca (Elizabeth Taylor), in gratitude for her father’s safe return, she provides Ivanhoe with jewels he may use to barter for a horse and armor, necessary for his pending joust at Ashby.

The tournament is favored by all the reputable knights in the land and eagerly attended by Prince John. But the victors prove one-sided, as de Bois-Gilbert, de Bracy, Front de Boeuf (Francis De Wolff), Philip de Malvoisin (Patrick Holt) and Ralph de Vipont (Roderick Lovell) easily defeat all Saxon challengers. Ivanhoe materializes from the crowd, sheathed in black, his face concealed behind a heavy visor. In short order, he challenges all five champions to a contest of wills and effortlessly defeats Malvoisin, Vipont, and Front de Boeuf in rapid succession. Ivanhoe salutes Rebecca, whose beauty has also caught de Bois-Gilbert’s fancy. While Ivanhoe bests de Bracy in their joust, he is sincerely wounded in the shoulder. His identity recognized by some in the crowd, including Cedric, Ivanhoe embarks on his final competition against Bois-Guilbert. Alas, he is thrown from his horse, carried off, and tended to by Rebecca. Ivanhoe is taken to the woods under the protection of Robin of Locksley (Harold Warrender). Regrettably, the retreating Saxons are taken by force on route to York, and instead sent to the castle of Front de Boeuf. When news reaches Ivanhoe, he agrees to surrender himself in exchange for his father's freedom. But Front de Boeuf perfidiously imprisons them both. In reply, Locksley’s loyalists storm the castle. During the siege, Front de Boeuf pursues Wamba to his death but is, in turn, slain by Ivanhoe. De Bois-Guilbert escapes, using Rebecca as his human shield. But de Bracy is captured while making a similar attempt with Rowena.

The King’s ransom is secured. Alas, Ivanhoe and his cohorts face a perilous situation; either, to free Richard or Rebecca as Prince John has set a high price of 100,000 marks upon the girl’s head. Isaac chooses Richard. In reply, Ivanhoe devotes himself to Rebecca’s freedom. At trial, Rebecca is condemned to be burned at the stake as a witch. Ivanhoe challenges this verdict, invoking the right to wager of battle. Prince John chooses de Bois-Gilbert as the court’s champion. De Bois-Gilbert makes a final anxious petition, offering to forfeit the duel in exchange for Rebecca’s love. She staunchly declines his offer, adding "We are all in God's hands, sir knight."  In the ensuing battle between the men, Ivanhoe is unhorsed, but manages to pull de Bois-Gilbert from his mount, inflicting a fatal blow with his battle axe. As he lies dying, de Bois-Gilbert confesses to Rebecca; he always loves her. In turn, Rebecca acknowledges that Ivanhoe loves Rowena. Newly liberated, Richard reclaims the throne. John begrudgingly kneels before his brother. Richard then calls on his people to rise, not as Normans or Saxons, but as Englishmen, united in their love of the nation.

Ivanhoe is an exhilarating costume drama. The same year it went into production, screenwriter, Marguerite Roberts was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee. As she and her husband, John Sanford cited the Fifth Amendment, refusing to ‘name names’, both were blacklisted, forcing MGM to petition the Screen Writers Guild to remove Roberts' credit from the picture. And although Roberts had also penned the screenplay to another Liz Taylor movie yet to be shot – 1953’s The Girl Who Had Everything – the resultant movie featured no screenwriter’s credit, but remained faithful to Roberts’ prose. As for Roberts, marked with the scarlet letter, she would continue as persona non grata in Hollywood for the next 9 years!  Most of Ivanhoe was shot at MGM’s British Studios in Borehamwood, with a few exteriors lensed at Doune Castle in Scotland.[5] Interestingly, the Ashby-de-la-Zouch tournament and the Torquilstone Castle siege were both photographed on Borehamwood’s backlot, with various woodland sequences made in Ashridge Forest, Herts and Bucks. Among the picture’s most successful behind-the-screen collaborators, Miklos Rozsa's plush orchestral score received both an Academy Award and Golden Globe nomination. Nevertheless, Rozsa was deeply disappointed after consulting the shooting script. He had endeavored to write an epic score for one of the favorite novels from his own youth. Instead, Rozsa found the alterations to Scott’s text appalling.

The composer thus remained loyal to his own interpretations of Scott’s novel, choosing to work in themes and arias without contemplating their importance to the principle cast.  For inspiration, Rozsa explored mediaeval sources, based on authentic twelfth-century music. Despite Rozsa’s deep resentment of what he perceived as the picture’s flaws, Ivanhoe’s debut at New York’s Radio City in July, 1952 set an opening week record of $177,000. Within its first 39 days, Ivanhoe had taken in $1,310,590: a new record for an MGM film, eventually tipping the scales with a total domestic gross of $5,810,000; by far, Metro’s biggest and brightest moneymaker of that year. At Oscar time, Pandro S. Berman, cinematographer, Freddie Young, and Rózsa were all nominated for Academy Awards. In addition, Richard Thorpe received a nod from the Directors Guild of America. The picture also tallied two Golden Globe Award nominations, the latter, for Rózsa score again. And despite the artistic liberties taken with Scott’s novel, New York Times’ critic, Bosley Crowther, emphatically gushed that Berman and the studio had done both Scott and English history proud. Undeniably, MGM had thrown down the gauntlet once more with visual aplomb. Robert Taylor, whose career prospects had proportionately dipped with his advancing age (no longer considered the dashing matinee idol he had once been in the early 1930’s), nevertheless received a major boost with Ivanhoe. Viewed today, Taylor, while a little old for the part, proved he was still in his prime, pulling off an exuberant swain; intermittently stoic, yet charming, and, very much the man of the hour.

Well, Ivanhoe could certainly use a Blu-ray remaster. Warner’s DVD is remarkably clean and solid. But the Technicolor exhibits slight color fading throughout. Fine details are nicely realized. Texturing in hair and costumes looks very good indeed. And contrast is excellent throughout. There is marginal mis-registration, evident in only a few scenes, and rear-projection plates are quite obvious, with minor haloing. Black levels are deep. Whites are generally clean. The audio is mono, yet impressive. Extras, alas, are limited to a Tom & Jerry cartoon already available on the Tom & Jerry 2-disc set from Warner and a swashbuckler’s theatrical trailer gallery. Ho-hum.  Not altogether impressive, though passable for now, Ivanhoe on DVD is adequate – but just. It remains one of the many MGM crown jewels as yet to arrive in hi-def. Will it ever? Have to ask the powers that be at WB, I suppose. And keep petitioning the Warner Archive to do its stellar work with a show of strong sales for such deep catalog releases. Bottom line: recommended – for now!

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

3

EXTRAS

2