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THE BLACK KNIGHT is a colourful British swashbuckler from 1954, starring the vertically challenged Alan Ladd who plays an impoverished blacksmith. Ladd comes into contact with some nasties involved with a Viking attack, learns swordplay and then becomes the helmeted Black Knight (a la Zorro), dishing out retribution to those responsible.

On the face of it, this is entertaining enough, a fast-paced adventure packed with swordplay and battle sequences. I have to admit though that half of me was laughing as I watched. Ladd doesn't really make for a very convincing hero and is indeed doubled in all of his action scenes, like an olden-times Steven Seagal. He's given a ridiculously tall helmet to make up for his lack of stature but it just looks, well, ridiculous, plus he's too old and too out of shape to convince as the hero.

The narrative, sadly, is complete nonsense. The heroes are supposed to be Saxons, fighting off a Viking invasion, which is fair enough. Except the various castles used in the film (none of which match architecturally) are all made of brick or stone, and only the Normans built stone castles some centuries after this film's setting. Plus they bring in the mythical King Arthur for no real reason, along with a ridiculous scene of human sacrifice at Stonehenge. What Celtic druids have to do with all this I don't know...

Cast-wise, there are some familiar faces in support, including Harry Andrews as the put-upon Earl of Yeonil (a misspelling of Yeovil?). Peter Cushing is the villain, but fails to convince as a blacked-up Saracen, while a youthful Patrick Troughton also enjoys some screen time as the Cornish king. Watch out for Andre Morell, playing a hulking knight. THE BLACK NIGHT is far from a great film, having more in common with B-movie fare like SIEGE OF THE SAXONS than anything else, but it passes the time for fans of '50s cinema.

In my opinion, the finest cinematic renditions of the Arthurian legends have all been revisionist in nature – Robert Bresson’s ascetic LANCELOT DU LAC (1974), the uproarious MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL (1974) and John Boorman’s visceral Excalibur (1981) – but, for an entire generation of youngsters during the 1950s and 1960s (that to which my father belongs to be exact), the idealized, heroic Hollywood version of Camelot, its sovereign and inhabitants was the only one there was. In fact, they were spoilt for choice when it comes to depictions of pageantry in those days with Mel Ferrer, Brian Aherne (twice) and Richard Harris being among those who assuming on film the role of King Arthur.

In this modest, fairly routine but equally enjoyable British production, it is Anthony Bushell who gets to play the ruler of Camelot but the actor’s relative anonymity implies (correctly as it turns out) that his role in the narrative is merely a peripheral one. In fact, the leading man here is diminutive Hollywood star Alan Ladd: curiously cast as a taciturn English blacksmith with ideas above his station (generally directed towards aristocratic Patricia Medina), he is wrongly accused of both treason (by duplicitous Saracen knight Peter Cushing) and of cowardice (by Medina herself, after a Viking attack on her castle leaves her mother dead and father, played by Harry Andrews, half-crazed with grief)! However, with the help of a prescient knight (Andre' Morell) and after adopting the titular disguise, our commoner hero saves the day by routing the villains (who also include a dastardly Scottish royal – portrayed by yet another future Hammer horror stalwart Patrick Troughton, as well as Cushing’s laughing, would-be deaf-mute giant stooge), earning himself an official knighthood and, it goes without saying, Medina’s hand in marriage. Incidentally, the tale is set off by a ballad sung in a brief prologue by a minstrel (Elton Hayes) approaching a castle but, unexpectedly enough, rather than featuring in the upcoming narrative (as a singing squire or something), he quickly vanishes never to be seen or heard from again!

Apart from the film’s unsurprising reliance on cliché, it also contains elements of camp (particularly a Pagan rite being performed at Stonehenge and the cumbersome insignias worn on their helmets by the various knights) and leads up to a curiously clumsy climax (with an ostensibly unnoticed Ladd conspicuously overhearing the scheming Troughton and Cushing from a secret passage leading right behind the former’s throne; Ladd seemingly taken aback by the aforementioned giant falling to his death in spite of himself from the castle rooftop, not to mention Cushing apparently tripping in his own armor when turning up for the final showdown with the hero)! Actually, this only increases the film’s fun factor and, over fifty years later, one can still understand how this stuff was eagerly lapped up by thrill-seeking schoolboys during their weekly matinees. Incidentally, given Cushing’s reputation as a horror star, it may come as a surprise to some that he appeared in numerous costumers over the years – including THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK (1939), Alexander THE GREAT (1956), JOHN PAUL JONES (1959), SWORD OF SHERWOOD FOREST (1960), THE HELLFIRE CLUB (1961), FURY AT SMUGGLER’S BAY (1961), CAPTAIN CLEGG (1963) and SWORD OF THE VALIANT (1984)!

For what it’s worth, the screenplay involves some notable names – Alec Coppel, future director Bryan Forbes and film noir star Dennis O’Keefe(!) – and its plot of King Arthur vs. The Vikings would come in handy once more that same year in the equally inauthentic but even more popular PRINCE VALIANT. Other distinguished crew members include composer John Addison, cinematographer John Wilcox, art director Vetchinsky and producers Irving Allen and Albert R. Broccoli(!) – this was actually the latter’s third and last picture with Ladd following THE RED BERET (1953) and HELL BELOW ZERO (1954). By the way, THE BLACK KNIGHT itself eventually got remade by Nathan Juran as SIEGE OF THE SAXONS (1963)!

I'd only heard of The Black Knight through looking at a list of Peter Cushing's films before it was shown on Channel 4 one afternoon recently so I set the video and was pleased I did.

It is an enjoyable adventure set in medieval times and as well as horror legend Peter Cushing (The Curse of Frankenstein, Dracula), who has an excellent role as a baddy, it also stars Alan Ladd (Shane) who plays the title role of the movie very well. This movie also stars Harry Andrews and several people who I'm more use to seeing in sci-fi/horror movies: Dr Who actor Patrick Troughton, Andre Morell (The Giant Behemoth, Plague of the Zombies) and Laurence Naismith (The Valley of Gwangi, Village of the Damned). The love interest is played by Patricia Medina (The Beast of Hollow Mountain). All play the parts well.

This was one of three British Movies Alan Ladd made in the 1950's. It is beautifully shot in colour, despite it being low budget.

This movie is worth a look at if you get the chance, as it it rather hard to find. It don't seem to available on video or DVD anywhere, so you will have to rely on it coming on telly. A treat.

Rating: 3 stars out of 5.

If you are looking for the epitome of "it's so awful, I cannot look away" movies, then this has got to be it! Everything is just dire, (except Peter Cushing as the baddie, (although he must have spent many an hour focusing on his coming fee rather than trying to think of his role - as a Saracen knight at the court of King Arhur (?????))). Alan Ladd's 'acting' is on a par with the 'plot', (if you can find it), and both are upstaged by the costumes, (especially the knights' or 'Vikings'' helmets, adorned with more horns, heraldic beasts and other appendages than a Victorian coat-stand). The real things not to miss, (in between either collapsing in hopeless fits of giggling or nodding off entirely, (and I could only watch my recording from the television in something like six (short) takes)), are the 'set pieces', especially the 'Virgin Sacrifice' scene at 'Stonehenge' - a good 25 years before Monty Python, but indescribably funnier than anything Cleese and his chaps could ever have thought up. Words can only go so far in describing a turkey of this magnitude, so if you are a fan of Mel Brooks-type spoofs and want a taste of something way beyond spoofing, set the VCR to record this one the next time it is on television, (as I cannot imagine any VHS or DVD distributor in their right mind ever putting this one up for sale), grab a bucket of popcorn, a box of tissues, (for when you collapse in laughter at frequent points), and go for it when you need a lift.

Having your wife as your agent can carry some advantages I'm sure, but when Sue Carol Ladd made a deal with Warwick Pictures in the United Kingdom for her husband to star, she did not advance his career. In fact this last one, The Black Knight, might have sunk it.

The biggest mistake Alan Ladd and his wife made was leaving Paramount before Shane was released to critical and popular success. Who knows what might have happened had he stayed and the Paramount publicity machine cranked up at Oscar time for him.

The Black Knight was the third film of three that Ladd did for Warwick that were released by Columbia in America. The first one, The Red Beret was a World War II story and Ladd was a Canadian to explain his non-British accent. The second, Hell Below Zero, was a modern story set on a whaling ship and was not bad and he played an American.

But Ladd had no business in The Black Knight, a tale set in the days of King Arthur. Peter Cushing as Sir Palimedes, a knight who's in the Mordred vein, is plotting with Patrick Troughton playing King Mark of Cornwall to overthrow Arthur and return the isle of Britain to the Druid religion.

Ladd's a blacksmith, hopelessly in love with Lady Patricia Medina whose father he is in service to. Upward mobility isn't the rule in those days, but it can be done as Ladd's friend and mentor Andre Morrell says. Go into knight training and incidentally find out what's behind all these Viking raids were having.

Poor Alan Ladd just doesn't have the requisite image for dueling. Twenty years earlier Tyrone Power, Errol Flynn, or Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. could have handled the role with ease. But Alan Ladd was never meant to be buckling swashes. Lines that sounded natural coming from Errol Flynn sound ridiculous from Ladd.

Director Tay Garnett handles the battle sequences real nice and the rest of the British cast look like they know what they're doing.

At least this was not the worst film Alan Ladd ever did. That was awaiting him in Duel of the Champions.