Revisit: The Mask of Zorro
A popcorn movie of a bygone era, and why it should be studied for a movie 'renaissance'
*‘Revisit’ is the first in a series of retrospective reviews of movies I watched during my childhood. Since Antonio Banderas has returned as Puss in Boots — which is a play on his portrayal of Zorro — I thought relevant to start with ‘The Mask of Zorro.’
The movie industry needs a renaissance. If Tom Cruise’s awe-inspiring Top Gun: Maverick wasn’t a clear indication, audiences are craving a return of stories encapsulating values from an ‘antiquated’ era sans the cultural and political presentism shoehorned into most modern media.
Yet, most creative minds in Hollywood don’t appear provoked to reflect on the past because — from their perspective — the philosophical tenets of America and Western Civilization are inherently founded upon damned patriarchal characters, racism, and imperialism. Essentially, what values can be rediscovered in the past that should be reintroduced into the cultural landscape? To the modern progressive, the answer — more than likely — would be ‘none.’
But as a cultural movement, the Renaissance required studying, and appreciating, the classics. Only by examining intrinsic truths about human nature were artists, scientists, and philosophers able to elevate man out of the dark ages into the modern, enlightened age.
Today, to advance beyond the culturally uninspiring malaise, there needs to be a retrospective analysis on what makes a film ‘timeless,’ especially when it comes to popcorn blockbusters. I offer as an introduction the 1998 action-adventure, swashbuckling The Mask of Zorro.
Now this may seem ironic because, prior to the mid-2000s reboot and intellectual property phenomenon, Zorro was the quintessential franchiseable character, countlessly rebooted, remade not only on the big screen, but in comics, film serials, and even a Disney television series (and the now definitely canceled Zorro the Gay Blade). Even The Mask of Zorro is a spiritual sequel to The Mark of Zorro (1940) — taking and building upon elements of the latter, yet elevating the Zorro legend.
For instance: within the opening scene, the audience is quickly introduced to nearly every major character that will appear in the rest of the film. In a practically shot, engaging action set piece too technically advanced for a 1940s film, Anthony Hopkins’ Don Diego de la Vega (disguised as Zorro) rescues innocent men condemned by the dastardly Don Rafael Montero. Meanwhile, the young Alejandro Murrieta (who grows up to be an outlaw and later protégé played by Antonio Banderas) watches his hero in amazement, and even assists Zorro’s efforts. It’s hard to describe, but while the stakes are high, there is a flair of charm embedded in the screenplay (written by John Eskow, Ted Elliott, Terry Rossio — the latter two who wrote The Pirates of the Caribbean) and expert direction by James Bond alum, Martin Campbell.
Throughout the film, every major characters’ motivations are clear. Both Hopkins and Banderas are on converging revenge missions. After discovering Zorro’s identity, Don Rafael arrests de la Vega and raises the man’s daughter as his own for twenty years. Meanwhile, the notorious Captain Love effectively kills Murrieta’s older brother — and keeps his head in a wine jar (….which the real guy apparently did to enemies). When they both meet in a cantina, both on the run, the elder de la Vega decides to train Murrieta to become the reincarnation of Zorro. He sees a desire for a hero from the people, and also sees potential in Banderas’ rough Murrieta.
Banderas is wonderful in the role — funny, but not goofy (like everyone in the nauseating Star Wars: The Last Jedi), yet conflicted by his vengeful quest against Captain Love and desire to be a needed hero. During one foolish escapade, his path crosses with de la Vega’s daughter, Elena (played by Catherine Zeta-Jones…the most beautiful woman in a movie ever). We learn from then and in a later swordplay (and also probably canceled) scene between the two leads that Elena is not a damsel in distress, and she is no Mary Sue. She’s feisty, skilled, and resourceful but struggles with the truth of her heritage. She is even, dare I say, vulnerable at times — which makes her a more sympathetic, relatable character.
While the characters are all well-written and acted, the movie is laced with wonderful action set pieces, including a horse chase (a homage to The Mark of Zorro) and duels at a gold mine in the third act. There is a rawness and tangibility to the scenes (including this awesome stunt) nearly absent from most ‘action’ movies today, except for those starring Tom Cruise, directed by Christopher Nolan, and Mad Max: Fury Road.
The heroes are heroes, and the villains are villains. The movie deals with themes of fatherhood, revenge, and love all of which are wrapped in a plot filled with stakes, tragedy, levity, and action. While The Mask of Zorro is not about anything in a cultural or political sense, it’s still centrically a human tale — and the better for it.
The Mask of Zorro taps into the stories as old as time and, as previously mentioned, is itself an example of ‘looking back to move forward.’ Now, another adaptation of Zorro is not strictly the answer to my proposed need for a renaissance, but the spirit of what makes The Mask of Zorro endearing is what writers and directors should study and reflect on.
Audiences need a Zorro. They want classical tales. They crave the stories that make us human. And, more importantly, they just want to enjoy the ride.
Appendix: The Mask of Zorro, along with everything else, has a great soundtrack!