They Don’t Make ‘Em Like They Used To

5,132 words

This is the first in a series of film reviews wherein I’ll be looking at works of cinema that were made when subversion—whether of expectations, morals, facts, or source material—was not the filmmakers’ objective. The objective was simply to tell a story on celluloid. These will not be “classic” films, however. No one needs to read another review of Gone With The Wind or other famous, monumental movies from the past. In fact, many of the films in this series might even be light-hearted, middle-brow, pop culture entertainment.

The selected films will have met specific criteria:

• Is the cast “diverse” only in a way that comports with historical facts, contemporary realities, and/or source material?
• Is the film made with little to no CGI?
• Does the film edify the audience?
• Could the film be made today exactly as it was in its time? (Here, a negative answer is required.)

The first entry in this series fittingly has the word “First” in its title. Ladies and gentlemen, First Knight.

***

First Knight is a 1995 film starring Sean Connery as King Arthur, Richard Gere as Lancelot, and Julia Ormond as Guinevere. William Nicholson, who also wrote Gladiator, is credited with the story and the screenplay. The director was Jerry Zucker.

The plot is not overly complex. A period of warfare has recently come to an end. Arthur of Camelot emerged the victor and now seeks to build a realm of unity, peace, and justice. He would also like a wife. Sadly, in the early medieval times no tranquility lasted long. Arthur may be the king in Camelot, but there are still other kings and rivals who would try to take his own throne. One of these is named Prince Malagant, played by Ben Cross. The film’s opening title sequence, written in curvy, faux-medieval script, glides over a backdrop of green hills, and tells us: And then there was Lancelot, a wanderer who had never dreamed of peace or justice or knighthood.

The opening scene shows Lancelot at work making his living. He seems to be a sort of travelling performer, but instead of plucking a lute, Lancelot goes from town to town and village to village challenging people to sword fights. It’s doubtable that such a job ever existed in the early Middle Ages, or whatever unspecified medieval time period First Knight places us in, and since the film strives for realism (there is no Lady of the Lake, Holy Grail, Merlin, or any magic whatsoever), Lancelot’s somewhat inauthentic occupation could be criticized as a failing.

Ignoring the plausibility of the opening scene, one can admit that it is at least entertaining, even memorable. After having easily bested one of the local villagers in duel (not to the death, obviously), Lancelot calls out for another challenger, tempting them with a pouch full of coins. “Winner takes all, my friends, winner takes all!”

British audiences might be amused at the sight of a young Rob Brydon early in his acting career standing amongst the townsfolk. Then a giant of a man steps forward and unsheathes an imposing broadsword. English fencer Bob Anderson, who died in 2012 leaving behind a legacy as one of Hollywood’s foremost sword fighting choreographers, was hired to teach Richard Gere and other cast members the art of the blade. Not to take anything away from Anderson’s career and credentials, but let’s just say that it’s probably a good thing First Knight was made before HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts) training became an increasingly popular niche hobby with dedicated practitioners who spend hours studying the ways men of the past used edged weapons, and then debating amongst themselves across dozens (perhaps hundreds) of YouTube channels.

The giant, named Mark, takes huge swings at Lancelot, prompting the latter to joke, “You don’t have to kill me to win, you know,” but we can tell that Lancelot’s life is never in danger. He’s too good. It’s not the most convincing bit of medieval swordplay you’ll ever see, but Lancelot sends Mark’s sword flying out of his hand with one swift motion. Speed and skill trump size and strength, but there is another factor in Lancelot’s favor.

“How did you do that?” Asks Mark. “Is that a trick?”

Lancelot explains that it’s no trick, it’s the way he fights.

“Could I do it?” Mark towers over Lancelot, but seems more like a child now, begging to learn from his older brother. “Tell me. I can learn!”

At the time of First Knight’s release, much was said about the decision to cast Richard Gere in this role. If you want a handsome knight, he has the looks, no question. Unfortunately, Gere never seems certain whether he wants to go for a standard “English accent” or just talk like the American that he is. He’s a great American leading man, but a knight from Arthurian legend? Despite his shortcomings in the role, in this opening scene he exudes the charisma that the casting director surely fell for, and delivers a truly great bit of dialogue.

Lancelot: You have to study your opponent, how he moves, so that you know what he’s going to do before he does it.

Mark (smiling): I can do that.

Lancelot: You have to know that one moment in every fight when you win or lose, and you have to know how to wait for it.

Mark (a bit more serious now): I can do that.

Lancelot: And you have to not care whether you live or die.

Mark’s face forms a mask of surprise, trepidation, and sombre understanding, then the camera cuts back to Richard Gere’s Lancelot, a wry, suave smile tugging at the ends of his mouth.

I can’t remember how old I was when I first saw First Knight, but I was very, very young. That line left an impression on me then and has continued to do so all the years since. Lancelot was a medieval pioneer of the “outcome independence” mentality. This is the idea of doing things without giving importance to your success or failure in them. Athletes, in particular, love the psychology of outcome independence. It helps them to achieve a state of “flow”, to “get in the zone”, that sweet spot where they don’t even think about what their bodies are doing. Every shot goes in the basket, every punch lands, every pass reaches its target, every serve is perfectly placed. “You have to not care whether you live or die” isn’t a useful mindset only for swordsmen and athletes. It can apply to almost anything in daily life, especially talking to girls.

Lancelot rides off into the green countryside with his sword and the pouch full of coins. We the audience remain in Rob Brydon’s village. The opening credits begin to appear, then suddenly the film takes a horrific turn. The villagers with whom we were merrymaking and cheering on as they crossed blades with a dashing travelling duelist are attacked by a fearsome band of mounted warriors. They gallop down the hills and easily swarm into the defenceless village which is protected only by a watchtower.

Arrows hiss into villagers’ chests. Torches are flung onto thatched rooftops. Black-clad brigands seize shrieking women. The director and cinematographer make a point of letting the camera linger on a humble wooden cross atop the simple church as flames begin to consume it, one of many scenes putting Christian symbolism front and centre, and a shot which signals the villainy of these attackers.

With several townsfolk slain and even more buildings on fire, the leader of the raiders decides enough damage has been inflicted. He accuses the villagers of harbouring lawless men who crossed the border and attacked his clan, so in reprisal he has destroyed their village. Then he declares that he, Prince Malagant, is the law.

The scene fades to smouldering black and we then find ourselves amongst the stoneworks of a city called Lyonesse. First Knight was filmed on location in Britain and makes frequent and beautiful use of the marvellous countryside landscape. Ostensibly, the story takes place somewhere in Britain too, so the French-sounding name of Guinevere’s hometown might seem out of place, but perhaps it is an homage to the French contributions to Arthurian legend.

Among the niceties of First Knight is the colorful palette the filmmakers worked with. In 1995, medieval films were not yet uniformly shot under a grey-blue fog, the actors not dressed in drab clothes and covered in dirt, like they are today. With First Knight, we get many scenes shot in glorious daytime sunshine. In Lyonesse, the people wear red and yellow dresses, jerkins, and robes. When we arrive in Camelot, we see the citizens there prefer to dress in various shades of blue, almost like they are wearing a uniform. It’s an interesting aesthetic decision, one which was taken in service to the primary themes First Knight is concerned with, which we will explore in greater detail later.

The Lady of Lyonesse, Guinevere, is seen playing a sort of primordial version of football with her kinfolk, but her game is interrupted by messengers bearing tidings of Malagant’s terrible attack on the nearby village. This is not the first time Malagant has sortied into Guinevere’s lands and wreaked havoc. We see that she is a Lady in grave danger. Her father, the ruler of Lyonesse has died, and although she is clearly loved by her people, Guinevere is not strong enough to fend off Malagant. Enter the marriage proposal of powerful King Arthur.

First Knight does away with all of the magical elements of Arthurian legend and tries to tell a more believable, realistic story. The decision to make Arthur and Guinevere’s marriage one less of love and more of political necessity, as well as casting the much older Sean Connery to play Arthur, adds to this realism. When Guinevere confirms her acceptance of Arthur’s proposal, she swears that she will love him, that she already does admire him (we are given the impression that they have met before, and this is later confirmed in future scenes) for the way he wields his power so nobly, for his masculine kindness and dignity. Yet, there is no escaping the fact that Guinevere will wed Arthur also for the alliance with mighty and protective Camelot. The audience already knows how this doomed relationship ends, so making it one of expedience is a clever way of reimagining how the seeds of infidelity were sown. “How could I love anyone more?” She wonders aloud, then the scene jump cuts to the man she will love more. Nicely done.

The plot continues apace briskly. Guinevere is received by a retinue of Camelot’s knights who will provide her safe passage to Camelot. As they journey through a forest, they are ambushed by Malagant’s men. Arthur’s finest are clearly the superior warriors, yet the bad guys are not really there to fight. They are there to take Guinevere captive, and in that they are successful.

A handful of villains manages to separate Guinevere from her escort. Something else about First Knight that is very much a sign of its time and not ours is the total lack of the “girl boss” trope. Guinevere is not a strong independent woman who don’t need no man, who can front kick a man twice her size to the ground while wearing high heels. No, she is vulnerable. Although she instinctually tries to defend herself, in the end she resorts to running and hiding from her captors, who quickly pick up on her scent.

They are about to get her for good when who should appear but our vagabond hero, Lancelot, happening to pass through the very same forest. He takes care of two of the three henchmen trying to capture Guinevere. She watches from her hiding place, music swells, and we know that in this moment, a passion is lit within her. When the third attacker reappears and takes hold of her, the swordsman and the Lady quickly devise a way to eliminate the threat. Guinevere herself does the deed of killing the assailant, but we see that she is nearly literally petrified with fear, disturbed and sickened by the violence. Again, this is an old-fashioned but refreshing deviation from the “badass” female stereotype of virtually every film today.

Guinevere thanks Lancelot for saving her and they make their way through the woods together. She lets Lancelot know who she is, but the latter isn’t impressed by titles and nobility. He’d have rescued her even if she was a milkmaid. Guinevere assures him that a Lady of Lyonesse can offer a much richer reward than a milkmaid, but Lancelot says he wants no reward. He only wants her. There are no swords in this scene, but Guinevere and Lancelot engage in a duel nonetheless, trading innuendos and flirtatious insults. Finally, their confrontation reaches its climax when Lancelot plants an aggressive, spirited kiss on Guinevere’s lips. Compare Lancelot’s unchained masculine sexuality and his confidence with the male characters portrayed in 2020s fiction. Here we see a free spirited man who doesn’t ask for consent before smacking a wet one on the woman he desires. We see a man who didn’t require any help from the woman in taking out multiple combatants. In short, 1995’s Lancelot was still a hero, a character written to embody the best of the traditionally masculine qualities that all men wish they could possess and all women wish they could get swept up by.

Guinevere at first reacts with anger at being kissed, but it’s obvious that she can’t resist this charismatic wanderer. In fact, she tells Lancelot that she’s on her way to get married and begs him, in the name of honor, to stop doing things that make her weak in the knees. Lancelot relents out of respect, which only makes Guinevere fall for him more, but before any more feelings can blossom, the sound of the Lady’s Arthurian escort breaks the spell and she is “officially” rescued.

Finally, we are introduced to Sean Connery’s King Arthur. The filmmakers chose an evocative location to tell this part of the story. Arthur awaits his future bride in a green field. Around him, Celtic crosses, which in First Knight are an ever-present symbol of Camelot, stand amidst neolithic pagan monuments, while soldiers of Camelot form a column.

Without overdoing it, it is still an impressive way to present Britain’s most legendary king.

After Guinevere is welcomed to Camelot with a festive atmosphere, we return to Lancelot, who is still just roaming around doing whatever strikes his fancy. On this particular day, he meets Camelot’s stableman, Peter, who informs him that the King is getting married. “Which king?” Asks Lancelot, a line which I liked. Not only does it show how aloof and careless of all things worldly Lancelot is, but it also helps build the world of the story. From the opening text, to Malagant’s declarations, to Guinevere’s worries over Lyonesse, we get the sense that this a land with many kings all vying for power. Arthur is merely one amongst them, albeit perhaps the most powerful and visionary. This is a successful attempt at adding more realism to the tale. Early medieval Britain, and Europe in general, was indeed like this.

Lancelot easily surmises that the beautiful betrothed woman whom he met in the forest is the one Arthur will be marrying, and Camelot is just over those hills…so he decides to enter the city with Peter. Outcome independent, as ever.

The Celtic cross of Camelot features countless times in First Knight.

Camelot buzzes with a party atmosphere as the citizens have organized all sorts of feasts and festivities to celebrate the royal wedding. Chief amongst these is something called the Gauntlet, a somewhat ridiculously dangerous contraption full of giant swinging axes, rolling boulders, and shooting blades that Camelot’s bravest can try to walk through for a prize.

Lancelot and Peter watch as all who try it fail. Then Arthur and Guinevere appear on the castle balcony. The crowd in the square goes wild, and the Gauntlet “ring announcer” entices Camelot’s men to beat the contraption. Beat the Gauntlet, and win a kiss from our new queen! Guinevere consents to this new prize, and the crowd loves her all the more. At once, Lancelot, unable to pass up another opportunity to lock lips with this woman who has taken hold of his passions, saunters up to the Gauntlet.

This scene is another throwback. A potentially life-threatening competition for men only, who must put their courage and confidence on full display, and if successful, they will be rewarded with a beautiful woman’s kiss. It’s practically exploding with masculine vril. They only way I can imagine such a scene being made today is if a headstrong, possibly non-binary or lesbian woman were to appear as the protagonist and show up all the weak men.

For better or worse, we are still in 1995. Lancelot shirks convention by refusing to wear cumbersome armor and relies not just on quick reflexes but also on his unorthodox way of viewing life in order to best the Gauntlet. Upon his triumph, everyone, including Arthur and his knights, is impressed. The only one not beaming with astonishment and admiration is the queen-to-be. She has promised a kiss to this man, after swearing she would never let him kiss her again.

But Lancelot proves he has an innate aristocratic charm. While Arthur watches on, Lancelot says that he dare not kiss so beautiful a woman. He only has one heart to lose, after all. This provokes more cheers from the crowd and more admiration from the King and the noble knights.

Such a performance has left everyone intrigued and impressed. King Arthur is no different. He sees something special in this stranger and takes him aside. First Knight clocks in at the standard run-time of 2 hours. This isn’t an arduous epic. It’s Hollywood entertainment and the story has to be told in a timely manner. So things start to move fast.

Arthur and Lancelot have a conversation in the King’s throne room, alongside the famous Round Table. Contrast is one of the main themes in First Knight. The blue-clad citizens of Camelot contrast with the red-clad people of Lyonesse and the black-clad soldiers of Malagant. This helps us know where we are and who we are dealing with, but I think the filmmakers also wanted to show Camelot as a unique place and home to a unique people. Arthur explains this uniqueness to Lancelot and presents another contrast.

Arthur is Camelot, and Camelot is unity, brotherhood, justice. It’s a place where people serve one another, believing in a higher purpose that can be achieved by working together, every man and woman with their eyes looking to God. Lancelot is a rugged individual who doesn’t care at all for higher purposes. He lives in the moment and does whatever he wants. He’s not tied to anyone or anyplace. This is a departure from the classical depiction of Lancelot du Lac, a noble knight in his own right, but it’s a departure that was clearly intended to bring about this tension and contrast.

Connery’s Arthur is as the characters in the film describe. He’s powerful. One arch of his eyebrows is all his captains need to understand who has the final say. But he’s also charismatic himself, and he does wear his crown lightly. In fact, he’s often without it entirely. His Camelot is almost presented as a utopia. It’s a place where all are equal, as perfectly symbolized by the Round Table (no head, no foot), yet it is still a monarchy and there is still an aristocracy (the Knights, for example). Camelot is a sort of democratic monarchy, a rare thing indeed. In their brief conversation, Arthur tries to entice Lancelot to join his world of brotherhood, to help him continue forging his vision of a place where justice and honor and fairness rule. Lancelot isn’t quite convinced and departs, but not before accepting an invitation to stay the night in Camelot.

The action doesn’t stop, however. That same night, Malagant again attempts to sequester Arthur’s bride and scupper their alliance. This time, his agents manage to pull it off. They steal Guinevere in the dark of the night and whisk her off to their lair somewhere on the craggy cliffs of Britannia’s coast. But they are followed.

Yes, yes, it’s Lancelot. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: First Knight is simplistic storytelling. This is not a convoluted tale, there are no multiverse storylines weaving in and out, no laborious subplots. The Lady needs rescuing, damn it, and the dashing daredevil is going to do it—twice even! They don’t make ’em like this anymore. Can you imagine a film or series today having a man save a damsel in distress twice? The 90s were far from perfect, but there’s a reason people look back 30 years with a certain fondness: things weren’t that bad either.

Although the storytelling is simplistic, the themes the story tackles are rather sophisticated. You just have to put down the popcorn and pay closer attention to notice them.

In Malagant’s stronghold, we are presented with another contrast. Malagant shows Guinevere what his method of governance looks like. “Men don’t want brotherhood,” he says, before barking out an order which is immediately obeyed. “They want leadership.”

So now we have a conflict not only of characters and their interests, but of ideologies. On the one hand, Arthur’s almost literal Christian Democracy. On the other, Malagant’s absolute monarchy. The latter is portrayed as “bad” without any nuance or subtlety. Malagant and his men wear intimidating suits of spiky black armor. Malagant’s sword is serrated, always a sign of a very bad man. And yet, if you look beyond the appearances and listen to what Malagant believes, he kind of has a point. He’s a realist, and realists have a way of often kind of having a point.

Despite Malagant’s ingenious means of imprisoning Guinevere, Lancelot sneaks in and completes his quest to recover the Lady. Once again, they find themselves together in a forest as they make their way back to the safety of Camelot.

First Knight is a film that is laden with Christian imagery and doctrine. It’s actually quite remarkable how much the Christian faith plays a part in this movie, and how tactfully it is treated. Christianity is neither mocked nor praised, it is simply an ever-present element in the lives of these characters and the world they live in, which is exactly how it would have been in a realistic early medieval period.

After the army of Camelot saves the lives of refugees from Lyonesse, Guinevere bids them give thanks in prayer to God, and one of the refugees responds, “God keep you safe, milady.”

Before each meeting of Arthur and his Knights, the King recites this oration: “May God grant us the wisdom to discover the right, the will to choose it, and the strength to make it endure. Amen.”

When Lancelot accepts a knighthood, Arthur instructs him to pass the night in prayer.

But we’re jumping ahead a bit. In the forest, under a gentle springtime rainfall, Lancelot reveals his intimate, vulnerable side (ladies love that too, if not done too much). He tells Guinevere about how his family were murdered by raiders and laments that God didn’t save him from such suffering.

Guinevere consoles him. God did save you, and for a reason. He made you who you are, “A man who fears nothing and no one. You could use that gift for some good purpose.”

All of this may come as a welcome surprise given how the years since 1995 have been marked by incessant sacrilege, and it may be even more surprising given that First Knight director is a Jew. The Jewish relationship with Christianity is long and complex, and there certainly existed anti-Christian works of cinema in bygone times, but perhaps in the mid 90s, Hollywood Jews on the whole still deemed it appropriate to treat their host nation’s majority faith with a modicum of respect rather than give it the treatment we are accustomed to from today’s Hollywood Jews like Sarah Silverman and Seth Rogan. Like I said, the 90s weren’t perfect, but they weren’t that bad either. Just keep asking yourself if scenes and dialogue like this would appear in major Hollywood productions today.

Intense emotions continue to burn between Lancelot and Guinevere, and eventually they return to Camelot. If before Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table were impressed by Lancelot’s bravery and skill, now they are absolutely smitten…Guinevere too, of course, but she’s trying to conceal that.

As mentioned, King Arthur offers Lancelot a place at the Round Table as one of his Knights. Since this takes place in the throne room, Guinevere is present and dismayed at the prospect, very quickly materialising into reality, that Lancelot might stay in Camelot forever. She interjects, advising against Lancelot’s knighthood as it would render him something that he is not and could never be. Lancelot is a free spirit, and Camelot would honor him more by respecting that and letting him go.

But wily Lancelot, previously uninterested in serving at Arthur’s side, now sees a reason to accept the offer. He had been suppressing his lust for Guinevere, he was even set to leave her behind, but their paths kept crossing and now he can’t resist. The tragedy of the Arthurian love story is that, ultimately, two of the beloved main characters really do sin, and sin badly with terrible consequences. Lancelot is great knight, the greatest even, but he is not a good man. Guinevere is a fine queen, but an awful wife. It makes one wonder why modern Hollywood doesn’t make more Arthurian films, given that there is plenty of potential to tell the story in the Game of Thrones style that has been all the rage for at least a decade, complete with anti-heroes, amoral or even immoral protagonists, and make it all “dark” and “gritty”. Looking at the current state of Hollywood and the way it treats European lore, I suppose we should be thankful this has not come to pass.

Lancelot accepts the knighthood and while spending the night in prayer in Camelot’s chapel, he declares his undying desire for Guinevere under the eyes of a crucified Christ while she begs him to leave.

The rest of the story you already know, First Knight just has a different way of telling it. There is no Mordred. There is no Battle of Camlann. Instead, Lancelot and Guinevere are put on trial for treason after Arthur discovers their affair. During the public trial, he has a guilty conscience himself and deems that he is the one in the wrong for putting the lives of his wife and his friend in the balance. Not very Christlike, he must have thought.

Right at that moment, with all of Camelot gathered in the city centre, Malagant launches a surprise attack and takes the citadel. A little too easily, but again, we only have 20 minutes left to wrap this story up.

Malagant has Arthur at his mercy. He says Arthur is a delusional man waking up from a dream, the dream of his godly, democratic, egalitarian monarchy, perhaps. He addresses Arthur and the crowd:

“The strong rule the weak. That’s how your god made the world. My god makes me strong so that I can live my life! Arthur says to you, ‘Serve one another.’ When are you going to start living for yourselves?! Now this is the freedom I bring you. Freedom from Arthur’s tyrannical dream. Freedom from Arthur’s tyrannical law. Freedom from Arthur’s tyrannical god.”

It’s a remarkable speech and seemingly out of place in an Arthurian adaptation, yet, at the same time, is it so out of place? Early medieval Britain would have been like this, Christianity the ascending cultural force, but pagan ways still holding strong in the hinterlands and amongst the stubborn refusing to convert. (I’m not saying Malagant represents European paganism here, by the way.) It’s also perfectly in place for this movie and its theme of contrast.

Arthur refuses to bow before Malagant and in his final act as King, he draws his sword and commands his people to fight for their lives right before assassins shoot him with arrows. Bedlam and battle ensue, the courtyards of Camelot stained with blood and blackened by fire.

Lancelot and Malagant clash in an epic duel, which Malagant appears to be winning. Then, when all seems lost, the dream of Camelot totally turned into a nightmare, and Lancelot is knocked to the ground weaponless, he sees Arthur’s sword just within grasp.

It is another great bit of filmmaking. All fantasy had been consciously removed from this version of the King Arthur story, but here, the storytellers give us just a little bit of magic. A beam of light glimmers down the blade of Arthur’s sword. They don’t need to tell us it’s Excalibur. We know it is.

Lancelot reaches the sword just in time, and rises to his feet with renewed spirit. He’s faster suddenly. Stronger. Whence comes this power? We know. Lancelot strikes at Malagant with a ferocity that cannot be parried. Spoiler: the duel finishes with total Lancelot victory.

The dénouement happens at a rapid clip. Lancelot and Guinevere shed tears over Arthur’s dying body while he forgives them and beseeches them to maintain the dream of Camelot. It’s not the best of conclusions. These people did betray his love and trust and even in this version of the legend, they indirectly cause his death. But we only have five minutes left before the 2 hour limit is reached. Time to wrap this up!

And so the film ends with Arthur’s funeral. A rather pagan one, it must be said, but that is the essence and the power of the Arthurian legend: it is a syncretism of European pre-Christian and Christian lore.

First Knight is a recommendable film. It hardly needs saying, but it’s still worth pointing out that the cast is entirely white. Even the henchmen with one or two lines and all the extras cast as townsfolk or Camelot citizens are white. They don’t make ’em like this anymore. Recent adaptations of Arthurian legend have seen a black actor play Lancelot and an Indian man play Gawain.

This is also a film well-suited for parents who have young sons especially, and want to watch something with them that will enflame their imagination and also show them stalwart archetypes: the charismatic man, the goodly king, brave warriors. Perhaps it will leave a mark on them as it did on me.