IVANHOE: Blu-ray (MGM, 1952) Warner Archive
At once, Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe
presented itself as both an ambitious, yet problematic venture for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.
It was, undeniably, the kind of sprawling and epic adventure Louis B. Mayer
would have relished bringing to the screen during his glory years at the studio.
Ditto for his VP in Charge of Production, Irving Thalberg. Alas, Thalberg had
died in 1936, and Mayer, while still very much alive and kickin’ in 1952, the
year of director, Richard Thorpe’s Technicolor reincarnation of Scott’s
masterwork, had been ousted from power in 1950. So, bringing Ivanhoe to
the screen as another finely wrought literary adaptation put forth by a studio uniformly
known for such quality fell to the new guy in charge, Dore Schary – a rather ruthless
producer who shared in none of the verve or vigilance for such a project. Not
to fear. Schary knew just enough to realize he did not know everything about
managing a super-structure like MGM in its prime. And thus, while much has been
made, at least in hindsight, of Schary’s ‘divide and conquer’ strategy at the
studio, pitting one camp against the other in his desire to re-make MGM over as
a sort of high-profile RKO (the dying studio he left, but was successful in
making B-budgeted message pictures and darkly purposed film noir – each an
anathema to Metro’s uber-gloss and A-list, star-powered spectacles), he
nevertheless continued to green-light costly projects like Ivanhoe, with
the understanding the craftsman behind them understood implicitly how best to
bring about an artistic achievement that would undeniably make him a lot of
money. In this, Schary had nothing to fear. Ivanhoe proved a
blockbuster.
Sir Walter Scott’s novel…or rather –
novels – Ivanhoe, published in three volumes in 1819, has oft been
described as a lyrical chef-d'oeuvre of 12th century romanticism. In
it, Scott’s familiar milieu of ancient Scotland gets jettisoned in favor of a
tale set in the ‘then’ recent past of England’s Middle Ages – the times brought
roaringly to life with Scott’s inimitable ability to paint a picture in the
mind’s eye of fancifully medieval, chivalrous tournaments, daring do by outlaws
and a witch’s trial, and yet, with a more serious political underlay to
exorcise the divisions between Jews and Christians. Aside: ironically, while
the story has nothing to do with Scotland, the MGM movie would shoot whole
scenes there, mimicking the English countryside. Scott’s depiction of Richard
the Lionheart, King John, and Robin Hood established the templates for their
iconography, to outlive the stories told herein and linger in historical
context to this very day. Scott, badly ailing at the time of conception, dictated
much of the first volume to John Ballantyne and William Laidlaw as his copyists.
He then recovered sufficiently to put pen to paper for the rest, drawing on
three major works from Joseph Strutt, in addition to other texts by historians,
Robert Henry and Sharon Turner, and, translations from French author, André
Favine, with a splash of Chaucer factored in for good measure. Scott was to
revisit Ivanhoe with some major revisions in 1829. Putting it mildly, as
a novel(s) – Ivanhoe was immense and proved immensely satisfying with
readers.
Thus, to do it justice, the
screenplay by Æneas MacKenzie, Noel Langley, and blacklisted writer, Marguerite
Roberts – to have her name expunged from the credits as a suspected communist/sympathizer
– could do and be no less. And while Dore Schary certainly saw the box office
appeal of such a costly venture, he was also weary of the investment necessary
to transform Scott’s sprawling classic into a viable motion picture with glamor
as well as guts. In the back of his mind was Quo Vadis (1951) – the uber-glossy
Roman spectacle to ‘then’ end all spectacles; green-lit under Mayer’s waning
auspices, and directed by Mervyn Leroy with all the gusto of a master builder.
Alas, even given its pre-sold title and monumental popularity, with lines
forming at five-thirty in the morning for tickets, cost overruns in Rome had
made Quo Vadis less than profitable at the box office. MGM’s standing edict, of “do it big, do it
well and give it class” was therefore not supported in dollars, the only
sovereign coin of the realm in Hollywood then, as now. In the ole days, Mayer
still would have chalked Quo Vadis in the ‘win’ column of checks and
balances for its artistry and prestige leant the studio, making Metro product ‘on
the whole’ even more popular with the paying public. But Schary was not
interested in what profits might be had ‘in totem’. He cared even less for ‘prestige’
unless every picture was its own profit center in the here and now. To be fair,
Schary was toiling at MGM during the first pangs of financial entrenchment. Increasingly,
the skyrocketing costs of managing daily operations had to be reconciled with Loewe’s
Incorporated top brass and its stockholders’ expectations for instant profits on
its ledgers and dividends to be paid out shortly thereafter. So, Ivanhoe was hardly ‘a sure thing’.
It was, however, a picture very
much blessed to cull its inspiration from Schary’s decision to shoot abroad in
authentic locations and at MGM’s British Studios in Borehamwood, thereby
cutting down the need to build lavishly appointed exteriors to simulate the
real thing. To hedge his bets, Schary also allowed producer, Pandro S. Berman
his blank check, to pick from MGM’s formidable roster of A-list talent,
including Robert Taylor, Elizabeth Taylor, Joan Fontaine, George Sanders, Emlyn
Williams, Finlay Currie, and Felix Aylmer. The success of Ivanhoe would secure
director, Thorpe’s ability to shoot two un-official follow-ups in England as
well: Knights of the Round Table (1953) and The Adventures of Quentin
Durward (1955) – only the first was profitable, both were photographed in
Cinemascope. In telescoping Scott’s epic
into a manageable motion picture, MacKenzie, Langley, and Roberts made some
major revisions to the story, though – ironically – never to hinder the overall
flavor of the piece. Gone: the characters of Gurth the Swineherd, Athelstane of
Coningsburgh, Ulrica of Torquilstone, Lucas Beaumanoir - Grand Master of the
Templars and Prior Aymer of Jorvaulx. The
cinematic Ivanhoe (Robert Taylor etching towards the end of his prime) partakes
of the siege at Torquilstone Castle – a substitute for King Richard, who does
not appear until the very end – and, rather violently dispenses with two
Normans, the first, whom he stabs, the second, done away with his crossbow.
Scott’s protagonist did nothing of the sort. Also, owing to Beaumanoir’s
absence, Rebecca is now tried and sentenced by Prince John, not the Templars,
of whom no reference is actually made in this movie. The enemy, De
Bois-Guilbert is presented as a Norman knight, one of Prince John’s
mercenaries, later to be killed by Ivanhoe. In Scott’s book, De Bois-Guilbert
dies of natural causes.
Otherwise, Ivanhoe – the movie
– stays fairly close to its source material. After the flowing strains of
another superbly rendered main title by composer, Miklós Rózsa, our story
begins with the suspicious disappearance of Richard the Lionheart (Norman
Wooland) – the Norman King of England, while returning from his Crusades. One
of his knights, the Saxon Wilfred of Ivanhoe (Robert Taylor), searches for the
King, only to discover he is being held captive by Leopold of Austria for a
sizable ransom. The King’s traitorous brother, Prince John (Guy Rolfe), knows
this, but is quite content to allow Richard to rot in prison while he
comfortably assumes the throne. Masquerading as a minstrel, Ivanhoe meets Sir
Brian de Bois-Guilbert (George Sanders) and Sir Hugh de Bracy (Robert Douglas),
a pair of corrupt princes who share in Prince John’s efforts to remain on the throne.
Ivanhoe guides the Norman party to his ancestral home, Rotherwood, governed by
his father, Cedric the Saxon (Finlay Currie), who coolly welcomes them. Skulking
off to the bed chamber of Cedric’s ward, Lady Rowena (Joan Fontaine) Ivanhoe
and the lady share in a passionate kiss. Now, Ivanhoe secretly pleads with his
father to raise the ransom to free Richard. Alas, Cedric wants no part of this
plot. As Ivanhoe prepares to depart, Cedric’s jester, Wamba (Emlyn Williams) begs
to be taken along and is made a squire in Ivanhoe’s service. Sometime later,
Ivanhoe and Wamba rescue Isaac of York (Felix Aylmer) from Norman soldiers,
escorting the old man to his estate in Sheffield. Unbeknownst to Isaac, his
daughter, the sultry Rebecca (Elizabeth Taylor) gives Ivanhoe jewels to buy a
horse and armor for an important jousting tournament at Ashby.
Attending the tournament is Prince
John. His Norman juggernaut, fronted by de Bois-Guilbert, de Bracy, Front de
Boeuf (Francis De Wolff), Philip de Malvoisin (Patrick Holt) and Ralph de
Vipont (Roderick Lovell) defeat all Saxon aspirations for victory. But then, a
Saxon knight appears, sheathed entirely in black to conceal his identity and
refusing to give his name. Instead, he challenges all five Normans and, much to
Prince John’s chagrin, dispenses with Malvoisin, Vipont and Front de Boeuf in
short order. Ivanhoe then salutes Rebecca, the girl’s raven beauty immediately
to catch Bois-Guilbert’s eye. Now, Ivanhoe bests Bracy, but is seriously
wounded in the shoulder. Both Cedric and
Robin Hood (Harold Warrender) recognize the true identity of the Black Knight
who, in his final bout against Bois-Guilbert is felled from his horse, carried
off the field and tended to by Rebecca. Ivanhoe is ushered into the woods by
Robin Hood. But the other Saxons, including Cedric, en route to York, are captured
and taken to the castle of Front de Boeuf. In exchange for his father’s freedom,
Ivanhoe surrenders. And while Bois-Guilbert
initially agreed to such terms, he reneges almost immediately and imprisons
both men in his castle. Robin Hood’s men
storm the ramparts. Front de Boeuf forces Wamba to his death as the castle is
engulfed in flames – a murder avenged by Ivanhoe who slays de Boeuf. Bois-Guilbert
retreats, using Rebecca as his human shield. But de Bracy is taken when he
attempts to do the same with Rowena.
Having collected their ransom, Isaac
is faced with a cruel decision, either to free King Richard or Rebecca, on whom
Prince John has set a bounty of 100,000 marks. Isaac chooses his King over his
daughter. While Cedric sets off for Austria to pay the ransom, Ivanhoe vows to
liberate Rebecca, condemned at trial as a witch and slated to be burned at the
stake. Ivanhoe challenges this verdict, petitioning the right to ‘wager of
battle.’ Prince John elects Bois-Guilbert as his champion. Alas, Bois-Guilbert,
still very much smitten with Rebecca, implores her to reconsider. He would
forfeit the battle and his reputation in return for her love. She, however, spurns
his offer, explaining, “We are all in God’s hands, sir knight.” During
the duel, Ivanhoe is unhorsed, but manages to pull Bois-Guilbert down from his
mount. Mortally wounded, Bois-Guilbert confides in Rebecca it is he who has
always loved her - not Ivanhoe. A sober Rebecca confesses as much to Rowena. The
newly liberated King Richard arrives to reclaim his throne. Begrudgingly, Prince
John relinquishes the crown, kneeling before his brother. But Richard now calls
upon all his people to rise, not as Normans or Saxons, but Englishmen – united
for the common good.
Ivanhoe is a memorable tale
of knights and their ladies fair, of gallantry on the march, and of such a
romantic vein that, alas, today, it is mostly regarded as a quaint relic about
another time, from an entirely different epoch in the picture-making biz. Outside
of Borehamwood, production shot in and around Scotland’s Doune Castle and
Ashridge Forest, Herts and Bucks. The performances here are all of the A-list
Hollywood elite class, with the two Taylors – Bob and Liz – being the obvious
standouts. Robert Taylor – born Spangler Arlington Brugh in 1911 - and once to
have been considered a major heartthrob in the movies, at age 41, has lost the
bloom of his youth here, replaced by a more sober middle-age approach to his
acting; a little long in the tooth to play the noble stud of this piece. Elizabeth
Taylor, age 20 and therefore in her prime, is a luminous Rebecca. Retrospectively,
it is inconceivable Ivanhoe would prefer Joan Fontaine’s placid platinum creature
to Taylor’s stunningly handsome beauty. Also, in hindsight, Miklós Rózsa's
score, to earn him both Academy Award and Golden Globe nominations, seems to
foreshadow his monumental work on 1959’s Ben-Hur. Alas, the composer was
unimpressed by Hollywood’s handling of what he regarded as a personal literary
favorite, referring to Scott’s original novel for his inspiration. Rózsa drew much
of his strengths from authentic 12th century music, even re-introducing
a ballad reportedly composed by Richard the Lionhearted, melded into his
central theme.
In the end, Ivanhoe proved to
be the box office titan MGM was anticipating. For its opening weekend,
Ivanhoe actually set a new record at New York’s Radio City Music Hall,
grossing $177,000. Just 39 days later, the picture also set a new record for
any MGM release to date, with a whopping $1,310,590 at the box office. When the
final tallies were in, Ivanhoe had managed to rake in $5,810,000 domestically,
and, another $5,086,000 in foreign, showing a profit of $2,762,000 on the
ledgers – easily, one of the biggest and brightest money-makers of that year. Critically,
Ivanhoe received a fairly warm reception – AMPAS nominating it for Best
Picture, cinematography, music and scoring. Director, Thorpe was overlooked
here, but received a nod from the Directors Guild of America. Justly compared,
in quality and scope, to the Shakespearean achievements of Sir Laurence Olivier,
Ivanhoe today stands as yet another testament to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer – a
studio built on consistently achieving peerless perfection. Mayer, then nursing
his wounds after having been ousted from power, could nevertheless take immense
pride in the craftsman he had established during his reign, among the finest in
their respective fields, and more than capable of sojourning on with a passion
for quality still coursing through their veins, even after his departure.
Ivanhoe arrives on
Blu-ray via the Warner Archive and…stop me if you’ve heard this one before (because,
on this blog you probably have) but the results of WAC’s due diligence here
have resurrected the Technicolor brilliance of a bygone era. Ivanhoe’s
3-strip color leaps from the screen with a saturation and clarity that will
positively blow you away. The work being done at Warner Brothers to preserve,
restore and remaster the old MGM catalog goes well beyond any expectations and,
in fact, represents the pinnacle of hi-def authoring. There really is not
another competitor out there to take such care and time to ensure such optimal results
are being consistently achieved. Contrast here is uniformly excellent. Drawing
on original camera elements, the recombined Technicolor image is razor-sharp and
subtly refined. Even process shots featuring rear-projection look healthier
here. You are going to love this one. The 2.0 DTS mono audio adequately
captures the original Westrex recording. MGM’s sound mixers were craftsmen of
the highest order. Ivanhoe sounds as good as it looks, thanks again to
WAC doing some very heavy lifting to reform and cancel out all of the age-related
past indiscretions time has baked into these classic movies. Wow – and thank
you! Ivanhoe on Blu-ray looks more like a genuine dye-transfer print
than a disc, with color fidelity, resolution and contrast combined into a miraculous/gorgeous
video presentation you cannot afford to miss. One of the highlights of the
Christmas season, and, in fact, 2021. Buy today, treasure forever! What are you
waiting for?!?
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
4.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
5+
EXTRAS
0
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