For the record, the film under review is universally considered the best and most "exhilarating" (to quote the late eminent British critic Leslie Halliwell) version, even if Whale himself apparently was not that fond of it (by this time, he had lost favor with the Hollywood bigwigs and basically had resigned himself to be a director-for-hire!). Still, I completely disagree with his unenthusiastic appraisal – as this is certainly one of his most impressive non-horror efforts and easily ranks among the Top 10 Swashbucklers ever to come out of Hollywood! The film was an independent production courtesy of Edward Small: he had already financed the definitive 1934 version of Dumas' THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO (likewise a cinematic staple and a personal Holy Grail for me before finally watching it some 3 years ago) and would subsequently make the 1941 rendition of THE CORSICAN BROTHERS (again inspired by a Dumas tale and, like IRON MASK itself, involving twin protagonists). In fact, he would be the force behind no less than 7 swashbucklers throughout his career, including 2 original sequels to MONTE CRISTO – both, incidentally, starring the lead of this one i.e. Louis Hayward!
Despite not having the backing of a major studio, the movie lasts for a generous 112 minutes (the IMDb mistakenly lists this as 96 but, then, it is 110 according to the "Leonard Maltin Movie Guide" and, as per the afore-mentioned Halliwell tome, 119!) and looks terrific indeed: sets are expansive, costumes lavish and the cinematography splendid. However, two other contributing factors to the film's overall success is a literate script by George Bruce and a remarkable (if essentially low-key) roster of actors to play the extensive cast of characters. Warren William is D'Artagnan and Alan Hale, Bert Roach and Miles Mander The Three Musketeers (from yet another Dumas perennial) – interestingly, the same year as this film saw a rather good musical spoof adaptation of that novel, but the best-remembered version was still 9 years away! To get back to Hale for a moment, his Porthos here came hot on the heels of another beloved folk character i.e. Robin Hood's best-known sidekick Little John – incidentally, his real-life son would recreate the elder Hale's 1939 role both in LADY IN THE IRON MASK (1952; in which Louis Hayward himself is now D'Artagnan) and in the inferior big-screen remake of IRON MASK retitled THE FIFTH MUSKETEER (1979; and which actually followed this very viewing)!! Joan Bennett had not yet attained artistic maturity (which would come via her noir phase during the next decade), Joseph Schildkraut makes for a wonderful dastardly villain, Walter Kingsford is a vaguely familiar character actor here relishing the opportunity to tackle a sizeable characterization, while Montagu Love is something of a genre fixture(!), Albert Dekker has an small but important early part as King Louis XIII and, though similarly restricted to the prologue, this was Nigel De Brulier's fourth and final appearance as Cardinal Richelieu since 1921 (and which had included the 1929 version of the same source material!). Finally, for horror-movie buffs, Whale regular Dwight Frye and future Hammer stalwart Peter Cushing (his debut!) turn up in bit parts here: though the former's is a speaking part (appearing as Schildkraut's valet), he receives no credit, whereas the latter – who only gets a couple of medium shots as one of the many soldiers at a tavern brawl – does!
Anyway, the film throws in a variety of elements and, while it may stress some at the expense of others (notably romance and court intrigue vis-a'-vis its sporadic bursts of action), to my mind, there is little cause for complaint. That is unless one carps for a duel between the two Haywards, which was added for THE FIFTH MUSKETEER – a film that generally followed the George Bruce script here so scrupulously that his name ranks beside that of Dumas in the credits! As for the notion that Whale was so disinterested that he failed to imbue the film with any of his distinctive touches, suffice to say that the prison sequences feature shadowy lighting and a whipping (that particularly evokes a similar scene in FRANKENSTEIN [1931]), while the regal Hayward sensibly despairing – there's an oxymoron for you! – of being strangled by his overgrown hair once his head has been trapped in the (appealingly-designed) mask is a sure-fire display of his recognizable caustic wit (recalling THE INVISIBLE MAN [1933]'s observation that, to avert detection, he must be spotlessly clean at all times); another more broadly comic scene finds William hamming it up in the fashion of John Barrymore posing as Kingsford's doddering servant when soldiers arrive to arrest him. The climax, then, surprisingly sees the death of all four Musketeers, a driverless coach careening off the edge of a cliff, and the union (blessed with mutual love when once it was to be solely a marriage of convenience) between Spaniard Bennett and the 'new' French King.
Interestingly, having recently rewatched Luis Bunuel's swan-song THAT OBSCURE OBJECT OF DESIRE (1977), I was reminded of the ambivalent nature of its heroine during those scenes where Bennett here is confounded by the apparent contradictions within the personality of foppish King Louis XIV (who is to marry her against his will, whereas the more down-to-earth twin exhibits affection and consideration). By the way, another classic swashbuckler to split the central role was THE PRISONER OF ZENDA – whose finest incarnation emerged in 1937 and numbered among its cast Montagu Love! Finally, the TCM-sourced copy I watched sported rather low audio (so that I had to take the volume practically to the maximum in order to hear the dialogue) and, unfortunately, also suffered from a handful of minor jump-cuts!
Despite not having the backing of a major studio, the movie lasts for a generous 112 minutes (the IMDb mistakenly lists this as 96 but, then, it is 110 according to the "Leonard Maltin Movie Guide" and, as per the afore-mentioned Halliwell tome, 119!) and looks terrific indeed: sets are expansive, costumes lavish and the cinematography splendid. However, two other contributing factors to the film's overall success is a literate script by George Bruce and a remarkable (if essentially low-key) roster of actors to play the extensive cast of characters. Warren William is D'Artagnan and Alan Hale, Bert Roach and Miles Mander The Three Musketeers (from yet another Dumas perennial) – interestingly, the same year as this film saw a rather good musical spoof adaptation of that novel, but the best-remembered version was still 9 years away! To get back to Hale for a moment, his Porthos here came hot on the heels of another beloved folk character i.e. Robin Hood's best-known sidekick Little John – incidentally, his real-life son would recreate the elder Hale's 1939 role both in LADY IN THE IRON MASK (1952; in which Louis Hayward himself is now D'Artagnan) and in the inferior big-screen remake of IRON MASK retitled THE FIFTH MUSKETEER (1979; and which actually followed this very viewing)!! Joan Bennett had not yet attained artistic maturity (which would come via her noir phase during the next decade), Joseph Schildkraut makes for a wonderful dastardly villain, Walter Kingsford is a vaguely familiar character actor here relishing the opportunity to tackle a sizeable characterization, while Montagu Love is something of a genre fixture(!), Albert Dekker has an small but important early part as King Louis XIII and, though similarly restricted to the prologue, this was Nigel De Brulier's fourth and final appearance as Cardinal Richelieu since 1921 (and which had included the 1929 version of the same source material!). Finally, for horror-movie buffs, Whale regular Dwight Frye and future Hammer stalwart Peter Cushing (his debut!) turn up in bit parts here: though the former's is a speaking part (appearing as Schildkraut's valet), he receives no credit, whereas the latter – who only gets a couple of medium shots as one of the many soldiers at a tavern brawl – does!
Anyway, the film throws in a variety of elements and, while it may stress some at the expense of others (notably romance and court intrigue vis-a'-vis its sporadic bursts of action), to my mind, there is little cause for complaint. That is unless one carps for a duel between the two Haywards, which was added for THE FIFTH MUSKETEER – a film that generally followed the George Bruce script here so scrupulously that his name ranks beside that of Dumas in the credits! As for the notion that Whale was so disinterested that he failed to imbue the film with any of his distinctive touches, suffice to say that the prison sequences feature shadowy lighting and a whipping (that particularly evokes a similar scene in FRANKENSTEIN [1931]), while the regal Hayward sensibly despairing – there's an oxymoron for you! – of being strangled by his overgrown hair once his head has been trapped in the (appealingly-designed) mask is a sure-fire display of his recognizable caustic wit (recalling THE INVISIBLE MAN [1933]'s observation that, to avert detection, he must be spotlessly clean at all times); another more broadly comic scene finds William hamming it up in the fashion of John Barrymore posing as Kingsford's doddering servant when soldiers arrive to arrest him. The climax, then, surprisingly sees the death of all four Musketeers, a driverless coach careening off the edge of a cliff, and the union (blessed with mutual love when once it was to be solely a marriage of convenience) between Spaniard Bennett and the 'new' French King.
Interestingly, having recently rewatched Luis Bunuel's swan-song THAT OBSCURE OBJECT OF DESIRE (1977), I was reminded of the ambivalent nature of its heroine during those scenes where Bennett here is confounded by the apparent contradictions within the personality of foppish King Louis XIV (who is to marry her against his will, whereas the more down-to-earth twin exhibits affection and consideration). By the way, another classic swashbuckler to split the central role was THE PRISONER OF ZENDA – whose finest incarnation emerged in 1937 and numbered among its cast Montagu Love! Finally, the TCM-sourced copy I watched sported rather low audio (so that I had to take the volume practically to the maximum in order to hear the dialogue) and, unfortunately, also suffered from a handful of minor jump-cuts!