THE MASK OF ZORRO: 4K UHD Blu-ray (TriStar/Amblin, 1998) Sony Home Entertainment

There are few movie remakes that can measure up to an 18th century legend (revisited for the umpteenth time by Hollywood, no less) and transform it into a contemporary actioner, capable of defying stereotypes and cliché, while bringing much that is fresh to the forum, and, without altering the basic premise to the point where it no longer resembles the hallmarks from its own past. A tall order - indeed, but one monumentally conquered in Martin Campbell’s The Mask of Zorro (1998), a lavishly appointed swashbuckler/romance/adventure yarn that resuscitated Antonio Banderas' career as the Latin heartthrob and introduced movie audiences to a positively luscious Catherine Zeta-Jones – who also happened to be a very fine actress besides. There are certain defining moments in American picture-making that have stood out in my mind. The cinematic debut of Zeta-Jones was decidedly one of them. I can recall so well, sitting inside the darkened theater in London when Zeta-Jone’s raven-haired beauty, Eléna de la Vega, entered the frame for the first time, and me, leaning just a little out of my seat, as if to be brought just a bit closer to that magnificent visage, radiating oodles of charisma back into the audience. It goes without saying, Zeta-Jones possessed the stunningly classic features of a patrician beauty at first glance. But beauty alone does not a star make, as there have been many pretty faces in Hollywood to suddenly appear, then disappear with zero staying power behind the eyes, and thus, not long to endure once the house lights have come up. Zeta-Jones, however, was quite unique, imprinting her presence almost immediately, radiating an intangible warmth, and later, to produce an even more desirable ‘fiery’ resolve to be respected on its own terms. While Banderas’ masked crusader assailed the ramparts with the swarthy ego of a fighting paragon, Zeta-Jones’ understated verve as Eléna revealed itself in less flashy ways – only to make hers as appealing, if not more so, than the butch star for whom, ostensibly, audiences had initially paid to see.
But beyond the incontrovertible sexual tension and chemistry brewing between these two formidably handsome people, the screenplay by John Eskow, Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio represented a masterclass in how to update a classic folk hero and yarn, to make it attractive to the newer generation. The Mask of Zorro is invigorating, precisely because it taps into our collective desire to believe in raw heroism; the sight of this darkly sheathed man draped in black, defying the corrupt influence of Spain in the newly created state of California and, later, to be resurrected within the destiny and promise of youth, to whom the torch of freedom, proudly lit, had since been passed; these, decidedly, were moments in the picture imbued with irrefutable jabs of pleasure one gets when suddenly realizing the story unfolding has transcended mere dumb show to be justly considered one hell of a good show besides, or as Banderas declares in the movie, to have found “a sense of the miraculous in the every day.” And The Mask of Zorro is undeniably that! Grossing $250 million on a $95 million budget, Campbell’s roller coaster ride is also an exquisite costume epic, too much fun to be quantified in this brief review. Intelligently scripted, expertly played, and elegantly photographed by cinematographer, Phil Méheux, the movie also greatly benefits from a rollicking score by James Horner, who tragically left us in 2015, age 61, when his Short Tucano turboprop aircraft crashed in Los Padres National Forest, near Ventucopa, California. Horner’s Zorro theme, heavily influenced by Miklós Rózsa's score for 1961’s El Cid, as well as his incidental cues, absolutely typify that big, bold and brassy orchestral flourish, once, a main staple of Hollywood, but now, providing a musical link between its illustrious past (best exemplified by composers, Max Steiner, Alfred Newman, and, of course Erik Wolfgang Korngold), while modernizing its appointment to reflect the ‘new age’ in film scoring enlightenment.
Prompted by the success of The Three Musketeers (1993), The Mask of Zorro was actually conceived at the start of the decade in a joint alliance between TriStar Pictures and Steven Spielberg's Amblin Entertainment. Spielberg was greatly impressed by screenwriter, Joel Gross, but aspired to direct the picture himself. Indeed, TriStar green-lit the project almost immediately, likely on Spielberg’s cache, and even produced a short film to promote the upcoming feature at the ShoWest trade show. By then, Spielberg had settled into the producer’s chair, passing the directorial duties to Mikael Salomon, with Sean Connery slotted in as Don Diego de la Vega (the part eventually going to Anthony Hopkins). For undisclosed reasons, both Connery and Salomon dropped out, and by 1995, Robert Rodriguez was signed to direct Antonio Banderas; the two, having established a working rapport on Desperado (1995). Rodriguez, however, preferred low-budget films, flying in the face of the studio’s plans for an expensive costume adventure. As talks continued, Rodriguez chronically delayed his participation, ironically over budgetary concerns – the studio, offering him $35 million, while Rodriguez insisted the picture could not be made for less than $45 million. Sony eventually earmarked $41 million (a figure to wildly balloon thereafter). But by then, Rodriguez was out and Martin Campbell in – Campbell, turning down the opportunity to direct the James Bond actioner, Tomorrow Never Dies (1997).
Much of The Mask of Zorro was shot at Mexico City’s Estudios Churubusco, the starting date pushed back by 4 days after Campbell was suddenly felled with a virulent strain of bronchitis. Meanwhile, Sony hired David Foster to produce in Spielberg’s absence. More delays followed as customs agents withheld some of the props for border inspection, including Zorro’s plastic sword. Meanwhile, the Eskow/Elliott/Rossio screenplay borrowed rather liberally from historical events and people to shape its tale. As example, Banderas’ Alejandro is a fictional creation, the supposed ‘brother’ of real-life desperado, Joaquin Murrieta (Victor Rivers), killed in both life and in the movie by the California State Rangers’ Harry Love (portrayed herein by Matt Letcher, as a rather ruthless Texas Army Captain, ‘Harrison Love’). Love’s capture of the Murrieta's point man, Three-Fingered Jack (L.Q. Jones) was also derived from fact, although his real name was Manuel Garcia. As in the movie, the real Love preserved Joaquin's head and Garcia's hand in glass jars – considering each as his trophies. Screening Campbell’s ‘rough cut’ assembly, Spielberg and Campbell concurred that to conclude the picture with Diego de la Vega's (Anthony Hopkins) death was too depressing. Hence, three months after principle photography wrapped, Banderas and Zeta-Jones were recalled to shoot an epilogue in which Eléna, having born Zorro a daughter, pleasantly observes as he regales the inquisitive infant with his daring do.
Set in 1821, our story concerns Don Diego de la Vega – a.k.a. Zorro, an aging legend who has decided to retire his mask and cape on the eve his identity is discovered by arch nemesis, Don Rafael Montero (Stuart Wilson) - an unscrupulous Spanish governor. In the ensuing arrest, de la Vega’s wife, Esperanza (Julieta Rosen), for whom Montero carries a torch, is killed. Burning de la Vega’s villa to the ground, Montero imprisons his arch nemesis in the Citadel, kidnapping and raising his only child, Eléna as his own. The knowledge he has lost everything dear to him is enough to nearly break our hero's spirit. Years pass, the legend fades, and, the people are strangled by the yoke of the Dons, including Montero, who profits handsomely at their expense. But the legacy of Zorro is not yet ready to fade quietly into the night. Escaping the Citadel by sewing himself into a body bag and being buried alive, de la Vega encounters local bandito, Alejandro Murrieta in the market square. Having witnessed the brutal beheading of his beloved brother at the hands of the sadistic Captain Harrison Love, Alejandro is momentarily prevented by de la Vega from exacting his revenge.  Now, a curious alliance forms - one that may satisfy both men's purpose for revenge. Alejandro places his trust in the tutelage of the old master.
However, with only basic training observed, Alejandro makes a misguided first attempt to unsettle the governor's unscrupulous police, invading their barracks and stirring up a sensation with his faulty swashbuckling, stealing a black stallion in his escape. He also encounters Eléna, who playfully tries to thwart his escape at the point of a sword. Disarming his attractive adversary by cutting loose the straps of her petticoats, thereby stripping her naked - Zeta-Jones unmentionables artfully concealed by her long hair - Zorro once again manages to vanish into the night. De la Vega is disgusted. Alejandro's ineptitude might have jeopardized their plans. Now, the education of Zorro kicks into high gear. Alejandro – disguised as a cultured Spanish nobleman – attends a lavish gathering at Don Raphael's hacienda with de la Vega posing as his man servant, Bernardo. Again, drawn to Eléna, Alejandro engages her in a spirited tango that catches Montero’s attention. Invited to partake of his private gathering with the Dons, Alejandro learns of Montero’s plot to sell Santa Anna his own gold, employing imprisoned rabble to work El Dorado - a hidden mine deep in the California desert.  As the Dons retire, Alejandro, reincarnates Zorro, steals the map of the mine from Montero’s study, striking fear into Montero’s heart by leaving a blazing ‘Z’ burning in the desert just beyond his villa. Fearful of Santa Anna's retribution, Montero reasons El Dorado has outlived its usefulness. After stripping its last reserves, he orders Love to trap the mine’s slave labor inside and dynamite everything to bedrock. Only now, Montero and Love must first face the men whom they have betrayed.  De la Vega tells Eléna he is her real father – a sobering truth she takes to heart.
Ruthlessly, Montero engages de la Vega in a crushing display of crossed swords. Meanwhile, Alejandro confronts Captain Love, baiting him with pithy barbs, as in inquiring how he would wish to have his remains displayed.  Confident he will win, Love advances with lightning speed, momentarily to startle his opponent. But Alejandro has learned his craft well. Love’s venomous rage is no match for his sustained patience, and, in the end, Alejandro manages to impale Love on his sword, barely escaping as a carriage loaded in gold bullion topples over the cliffside to crush and bury Love beneath its weighty fortune. Racing against time, as Love had previously lit the fuses to detonate the mines with the workers still inside, Eléna manages to free the slave workers moments before everything is destroyed in an epic explosion. Alas, de la Vega has been mortally wounded before putting Montero to death. Comforted in Alejandro’s arms, he gives his blessing to Zorro to look after his daughter. In the final moments, Alejandro and Elena are revealed as married and since with child, Alejandro standing over his daughter’s crib as he regales her with the legend of Zorro.   
The Mask of Zorro is a supremely engrossing swashbuckler. Relying on no less than six scenarists, director, Martin Campbell delivers a lavishly appointed ‘fun’ summer blockbuster that never forgets its intimate human saga.  Initially, Anthony Hopkins was not certain he wanted to do the movie; his apprehensions stemmed from a bad back Hopkins feared would impede his ability to perform the more athletic action sequences. Undergoing surgery to correct the problem, and sufficiently healed, Hopkins signed on and, in hindsight, gives one of the best performances of his entire career as this sage of swordsmanship, imparting wisdom and expertise on the new man in black. Antonio Banderas is the perfect Zorro – a role, tailor-made for his talents and for which he clearly is relishing every moment. But again, Catherine Zeta-Jones remains the revelation in this movie. For so many, including future husband, Michael Douglas, this was our introduction to an actress, gorgeous and capable of handling comedy, drama, and, holding her own with such heavy-hitters as Tony Hopkins and Stuart Wilson – a genuine ‘class act’.  The sexual chemistry between Banderas and Zeta-Jones is as palpable. Stuart Wilson and Matt Letscher remain formidable baddies. But best of all – everything about this story works, and, all the pieces fit. The stunts are for real, without the benefit of CGI – are full scale and absolutely thrilling. In the last analysis, The Mask of Zorro is a flawless entertainment to remind us what superior picture-making and the art and craft of ‘make believe’ are all about. 
Sony Home Entertainment's Blu-ray was superb. Now, the 4K remaster, meticulously scanned and preserved from the original camera negative, advances in all departments, easily besting even those efforts with a richer palette of colors, more subtly nuanced. Of particular notice are the desert landscapes, on the Blu-ray, perceived in a homogenized brown/orange continuity of color. In 4K, the natural splendor emerges velvety and textured in a myriad of hues that truly confound with their subtler clarity and multi-layered palette. The image is razor-sharp. Fine details that were smartly turned out on the Blu-ray have advanced to a finite level in 4K where we are able to perceive minute discrepancies in skin tones and practically count out the hairs on actors’ heads. This is another reference quality 4K release that will surely give pause for consideration as to just how far home video technology has come. A perfect image deserves perfect sound and Sony’s remastered 7.1 Atmos really delivers the goods. Action sequences are extremely aggressive, while quiescent moments greatly benefit from other sustained gradations, yielding remarkable clarity.  Dialogue is crisp. Horner’s score sounds incredible. The opening titles, in which Banderas’ masked crusader draws his sword and slashing the screen with a fiery ‘Z’ will send goose-pimples cascading down the spine. Sony has included newly unearthed deleted scenes and trailers on the 4K disc. Ironically, they have not made Campbell’s audio commentary available in UHD. Mercifully, the original Blu-ray – not mastered from these restored 4K elements – also has Campbell’s audio commentary from the original DVD release, plus ‘Unmasking Zorro’ – a wonderful documentary, plus, 2-deleted scenes, and the music video ‘I Want to Spend My Lifetime Loving You’ – the hit song, sung under the end titles by Marc Anthony and Tina Arena. Bottom line: The Mask of Zorro is a superb entertainment, likely never to date. This 4K release will have you cheering. Very – very – highly recommended!
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
5++
EXTRAS

2.5

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