CROSSED SWORDS: Blu-ray (Warner Bros., 1977) Kino Lorber

Not even an all-star cast, to include no less than 4-Oscar-winning actors, and, absurdly lavish production values a la indie producers, Alexander and Ilya Salkind could get 1977’s Crossed Swords off the ground. A gargantuan, and painstakingly recreated swashbuckler, lensed to perfection by cinematographer extraordinaire, Jack Cardiff, Crossed Swords promised to be the sort of period costume spectacle unseen since the gala days of ole Hollywood. The Salkinds were showman whose resolve for such grandiose entertainment had been cemented with two visitations to the well of Alexander Dumas – their 1973 reincarnation of The Three Musketeers (a.k.a. The Queen's Diamonds) and its ‘as popular’ sequel, The Four Musketeers (1974, and also known as Milady’s Revenge) each turning a tidy profit. So, revisiting a Mark Twain classic like The Prince and the Pauper must have seemed a natural. What could go wrong? Alas and alack – plenty! In spite of the movie’s formidable roster of old-time talent, Charlton Heston (as Henry VIII), Ernest Borgnine (John Canty), George C. Scott (Ruffler), Rex Harrison (The Duke of Norfolk), and, David Hemmings (Hugh Hendon), alongside Musketeer alumni, Oliver Reed (herein, as Miles Hendon), Raquel Welch (Lady Edith), and, sometimes soft core sweetheart, Sybil Danning (Mother Canty), the picture’s success squarely rested on the slight shoulders of Brit-wit, Mark Lester who, at age 19, had outgrown the ‘cute’ factor of his youth and was ill-cast in the dual roles as Edward, the future King of England, and, Tom Canty – both, around 9-yrs.-old in Twain’s original story. Lester, gangly and in blonde ringlets, looking like a bad cross-dressing Shirley Temple, is so out of his element as either the urchin or future sovereign that his conviction evaporates completely, the minute he opens his mouth. It should be noted only a decade earlier, Lester likely would have been perfectly cast, having achieved ever-lasting notoriety as everyone’s favorite Dickensian outcast, Oliver Twist, in Carol Reed’s big, bloated and Oscar-winning musical, Oliver! (1968).  The failure of Crossed Swords – as well as the critical tongue-lashing Lester received for his part in its fiasco effectively put an end to his movie career.

On the plus side, Crossed Swords boasts exceptional production design by Anthony Pratt, superb art direction from Maurice Fowler, John Hoesli and Jack Stephens, and magnificent costume design by Judy Moorcroft. Undeniably, the picture looks every inch a spectacular recreation of 16^th century London, dirty, earthy, yet occasionally glamorous too, the lavishly appointed scenes at court and inside the cathedral, boasting an enviable elegance to counterbalance the grit and petty squalor of the peasant classes. Yet, somehow, Crossed Swords remains a wan ghost flower to Warner Bros. sumptuous 1937 original – The Prince and the Pauper, then to have starred the studio’s resident heartthrob, Errol Flynn as Miles Hendon, with the Mauch twins – Bobby and Billy – affectingly embodying the titular ‘heroes’ about to pull their ‘bait and switch’ on the aristocracy. Flynn’s presence meant that whatever the Mauch boys did, their scenes were arguably subservient to the magnetic pull of his star power. And his scenes were beefed up to take full advantage of the actor’s classy masculinity. Crossed Swords attempts to refocus the tale on Twain’s diminutive duo. But it blunders by casting real-life hell-raiser, Oliver Reed as Hendon. Reed, a fine actor, is nevertheless too much of the rough-house class of London scrapper to be believable here as one of its nobles – however briefly disgraced. He is also the wrong type physically – with those brooding bulldog features and wickedly piercing eyes – definitely not the dashing sort, and therefore, very much unattractive in a part meant to infer sex appeal as well as unbridled chivalry. And Reed was to live up – or down – to his reputation as a boozin’ and ballin’ bastard when he arrived on set, drunk and with a prostitute, presented to Lester as his ‘birthday gift’. It is also rather disheartening to discover Heston and Harrison – titans in the industry, here, in mere walk-on roles, both actors ably performing with effortless finesse, though, with not enough good moments to offset their formidable presence. Just when we hope to see more of them, the lumbering screenplay, authored by Alexander Salkind’s wife, Berta Dominguez and Pierre Spengler, reverts to more misguided intrigues involving Lester’s Tom Canty who, either in vintage hose and regal robes or the dirty tatters of Tom Canty’s station, looks about as convincing and comfortable in the part as a pharmacist reciting Hamlet for the first time.

To accommodate Lester’s actual age, this prince and pauper are now sixteen – much too old for the antics in Twain’s novel. It was, in fact, the Salkind’s decision to go with an older actor in the lead before losing interest in the project entirely. Salkind had even sought Leif Garrett, the teen heartthrob and American pop singer, for the role. If not for the success of The Three Musketeers the Saklinds might never have entertained Crossed Swords. A miscalculation, to bring The Prince Malange to life as a starring vehicle for Oliver Reed and Peter O'Toole left the producers holding the proverbial bag when O’Toole suddenly became unavailable. As sets for this show were already half-built, the Salkind’s elected to shift their interests back to Twain’s story and move construction along. They were also, by then, heavily involved in prepping Superman: The Movie (1978) – to require a considerable amount of capital. And thus, Crossed Swords was pushed into production in the hopes it would generate the necessary funds to carry on. It might have worked if the picture had been left in the competent care of George Cukor, the Salkinds’ first choice to direct. Alas, George Cukor bowed out to pursue Rich and Famous (eventually coming to the screen in 1981), and the Salkinds tapped Richard Fleischer to helm their project instead. And while Fleischer, the son of legendary animator, Max Fleischer, had begun his directorial career with some fairly impressive and high-profile fare, to including 1952’s The Narrow Margin, Disney’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954), and the darkly purposed Kirk Douglas swashbuckler, The Vikings (1958), by 1977 Fleischer was somewhat better known for his box office duds, expensively mounted, yet problematically turned-out belly flops - Doctor Dolittle (1967) and Tora! Tora! Tora! (1973). Fleischer agreed to do Crossed Swords, but only if he could approve a new script, with a considerably larger budget of $7 million at his disposal. The Salkinds concurred, hiring George MacDonald Fraser to rework the story. To keep cost manageable, production shot between England and Hungary, using Pinewood Studios for its set pieces.

To suggest antagonism on the set of Crossed Swords is not an overstatement. Oliver Reed frequently arrived to work in a condition ranging from slightly inebriated to fall-down drunk, necessitating a considerable massaging of his talent, sometimes for hours, before his being brought back into relatively sobriety so that his scenes could be shot. Meanwhile, co-star, Rex Harrison developed a crusty aloofness towards Charlton Heston. The two had appeared together in 1965’s The Agony and the Ecstasy. But now, Harrison was resentful and standoffish, leaving Heston to merely scratch and/or shake his head over the animosity being shown him for no apparent reason. Harrison had not appeared on film since 1969’s Staircase in which he played one half of a gay couple. A consummate pro, Harrison’s scenes in Crossed Swords are brief but memorable – the true hallmarks of a classically trained thespian. Try as he might, Ernest Borgnine could no more affect a convincing accent than co-star Raquel Welsh. And although Welsh, ironically second-billed, was presented as mere decorous appendage, and could therefore be forgiven this shortcoming, Borgnine’s scenes contained significant dialogue the actor elected to relay mostly without any attempt at an English accent.

Our story is set in 16^th century London. We meet Tom Canty, a young man brutalized by his sadistic father, John and turned to a life of crime for his food and lodgings. Tom attempts to pilfer the purse of a nobleman but is caught in his work and forced to flee. He narrowly, and only briefly, eludes the men in hot pursuit of him, scaling a wall that just happens to drop into the palace gardens of King Henry VIII. In a bit of unrelated palace intrigue, The King orders the Duke of Norfolk to be arrested during a pending masked ball. Meanwhile, in his royal chamber, Prince Edward of Wales is preparing for the evening’s festivities when Tom falls down the chimney into his room. Both boys regard their uncanny physical similarities and Edward, tired of palace life, suggests he and Tom switch identities for a time. The pitch has merit. Alas, once the trading of identities has taken place, Edward is mistaken for Tom by Norfolk. Promptly ejected from the palace, the prince is spared indignation by Sir Miles Hendon, who nevertheless does not actually know his true identity. At the ball, Norfolk is arrested. Henry VIII is later amused by Tom's clumsy attempt to dance. However, despite his protestations, that he is not the prince, Tom’s declaration goes unheeded as a minor amusement.

On the other side of town, Edward pleads with Miles to regard him as the future sovereign of the land. Instead, Miles deposits Edward in the ‘care’ of Tom’s father and is promptly shown a sample of the perils of Tom’s home life. Miles takes pity on Tom. In his intervening struggle with John, Tom takes a tumble off a roof into a stream. Branded a murderer, John is forced to flee. Meanwhile, at the castle, Henry falls ill and commands that his son attend him immediately. Recognizing the truth – that Tom is not the Prince of Wales, Henry nevertheless commands Tom to be silent as such a revelation will place the entire future of England in jeopardy. Shortly thereafter, Henry quietly dies in his bed chamber. Now, Tom rescues Norfolk from the dungeon. We cut to the forest, where John and Edward are under siege from a gang of outlaws. John attempts to beat Edward. Instead, he is murdered by one of the gang members. Edward is reunited with Miles who takes him to Hendon Hall. Alas, there, Miles is outraged to discover his brother, Hugh (David Hemmings) has wed his one true love, Lady Edith Raquel Welch). Hugh captures and imprisons his brother and Edward. However, Edith, who has never stopped loving Miles, helps in their escape. Now, Edward works to convince Miles of his royal lineage by offering to restore his rank as a Knight of the realm. On the day of the coronation, Edward and Miles hurry to London. Hugh is tied up by Miles but manages to escape. As Miles fights off the palace guards, Edward reveals himself to be the future King of England. Tom and Edward trade places again before a thoroughly stunned Archbishop Cranmer (Richard Thurndall). Now, Edward makes Tom the Head Governor of Christ's Hospital, ordering Mrs. Canty to set up a shelter for the homeless. As promised, Miles’ reputation at court is restored to him and Lady Edith leaves her husband to be his wife instead.

Crossed Swords ought to have been an adventuresome drama/comedy. Instead, it falls apart almost from the moment the revamped Warner Bros.’ logo fades from the screen. Part of the problem has already been addressed – Mark Lester’s ill-fated casting. Simply put, he cannot carry one role, much less two. Neither as the Prince, nor the Pauper does Lester’s acting ever rise above mediocrity, and, quite often, it sinks to an intrepidly awful bar set somewhere well below that middling rank as an actor totally out of his element and depth. Raquel Welch’s second billing herein is an oddity owed her formidable popularity then as a reigning sex symbol though not much of an actress. She is in Crossed Swords for barely 20-minutes and mostly as a glamorous accessory after the fact; fun to look at, but otherwise, deadly dull. Oliver Reed’s Miles is a brute in fashioned pantaloons. Whereas, Errol Flynn came forth with an enviable and engaging spirit, Reed anchors his performance here to that of a carousing, course and often corrosive bruiser. His actions may speak louder than his words, but Reed’s ability to make us ‘not’ like him, leaves the middle act of Crossed Swords with a grave deficit in manly grace. Crossed Swords also sports a rather insipid score from maestro, Maurice Jarre, whose pedigree in the movies is otherwise worth its weight in sterling. Here, alas, Jarre has penned a bouncy, but forgettable main theme, interminably interpolated throughout, and, whenever Tom’s antics get the better of him. Jarre’s cues capture the lithe cream of the jest, but none of the nobility that bookend these feather-weight follies. It is an ill-appointed effort, hindering the picture’s over-all ballast in believability and virtually to distill all of its dramatic intensity. The screenplay is neither interested in melodrama nor thrills. The action is subservient to the wink/nudge and the quiescent scenes, to have teamed with father/son empathy, especially Henry’s dying desire to preserve his kingdom, even with an imposter on the throne, are dealt as though they are of no account or importance – merely shortsighted, connective tissue to move the plot along. In the final analysis, while often handsome to look at, and with oodles of period authenticity to boast, Crossed Swords unfurls as a colorless spectacle where most of the key parts are filled by stick figures with no soul.

Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray of the 121-min. ‘international cut’ is amply endowed. Indeed, the 1080p image here, apart from very minor speckling and a few instances where the image appears slightly soft, and a bit grainer than usual, looks heartily robust. Colors are fully saturated. Contrast is excellent and fine detail could scarcely be better. A modicum of film grain looks very indigenous to its source most of the time. So, nothing to poo-poo here. The 1.0 DTS mono audio will not win any awards, but it is also quite a solid reincarnation of the vintage tracks. Extras are unusually plentiful for this forgettable film. The best of the lot is an audio commentary from historians, Howard S. Berger, Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson. We also get a new interview with Mark Lester, running almost 20 mins.  Last but not least, a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Crossed Swords was the last non-special event movie to play New York’s Radio City, then in very real danger of being shuttered for good and torn down. The picture’s drawing power, or lack thereof, barely filled half of that cavernous venue’s seating. Forgotten for many years since, Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray serves a reminder – first, as to why this one had no staying power back then, but second, as a rekindling of our fondness for the 38’ original Prince and the Pauper, starring Errol Flynn and the Mauch twins. Want to see this one done properly? See that vintage B&W classic and leave Crossed Swords on the shelf. The Blu-ray, while not altogether perfect, is a solid effort nonetheless. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

2

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

2.5