The Scarlet Pimpernel

One might want to pre-judge this movie on the basis of its release date (1934), but it would be a mistake to consider this movie as creeky and old. On the contrary, it remains so brilliantly focused and sharply contrasted, that the viewer can get lost within the film-strip of this fine Korda film. The sets are realistic and evocative. Some, such as parlors and ballrooms glitter like the jewels of their occupants, while others, like public taverns and "clubs", can be grimy with pipe smoke, ale, and mutton.

The story is one of hidden identity, of unsung heroism, illusion, and danger......risk and reward, of good men doing what's necessary to save doomed people. It's also a moving love story.

Central in all of this is Sir Percy Blakeney (Leslie Howard in his finest screen role). He is a Fop in the extreme. He poses, he prances, and he eternally fusses with his attire. Are his cuffs properly ruffled, so that when he takes snuff, "it's a swallows flight"? Neckwear is another preoccupation of Sir Percy's.... he even uses this obsession in one of the film's wittiest lines, "A man who can't tie his own cravat isn't likely to put a noose around the Pimpernel's neck, is he?" But, the paradox of course is that Sir Percy, his wife not even knowing, is the bane of the French Revolutionists, the Scarlet Pimpernel. He and his followers make repeated and risky trips across the English Channel to rescue those they can from the fate of the guillotine. This charade of Sir Percy's is the core of much of the film's hilarious moments. But it's easy for this movie to take quick turns from humor to grim seriousness.

The love interest is the International beauty Merle Oberon, who is showcased exquisitly. She has developed a contempt for her foppish husband and his silliness, as she desperately tries to save her brother's life by trying to discover the true identity of the Pimpernel for villain Raymond Massey. She idealizes the Pimpernel who she often contrasts to her nit-wit husband, but as he tells her (and with some moment), "It's dangerous to fall in love with a phantom, m'dear. For all you know he's a married man who is deeply in love with his wife."

There is adventure and romance. A must see movie.

This aged take on the popular novel of a foppish English hero saving aristocrats from the guillotine during the French Revolution is an absorbing British movie; benefiting in particular from the excellent performance of Leslie Howard (one of England's greatest screen actors, despite his Hungarian ancestry), who gives the character of Percy Blakeney a humour and charm lacking from other actors who have attempted the part.

Merle Oberon also does well as his French expat wife - perhaps her best acting, even surpassing her later work opposite Olivier in 'Wuthering Heights'. Given that Howard and Oberon had a real-life love affair which started during this movie, it is interesting to note there are definite sparks between the pair on screen. Other actors in the cast are good value; Raymond Massey as the arrogant French ambassador who never thinks he can be outwitted; and Nigel Bruce, beloved later in the decade as Dr Watson, as the dullard Prince of Wales.

To date, I've seen three "Scarlet Pimpernels" from three different eras, but the more I see this one, the more I appreciate it for the economical little masterpiece that it is. Three years ago, when I reviewed Powell & Pressburger's "Elusive Pimpernel", I dismissed its predecessor as a 'dated period piece' remarkable only for Leslie Howard's performance; watching it again now I'd hedge no bets in saying that it excels above its successor in almost every way.

From the very beginning, long before the hero appears, it's evident that we are in for a treat. The reason? Above all, the script.

Necessary establishing information -- the Pimpernel's name and fame, the Revolution, the state of the Blakeneys' marriage -- is conveyed quickly and naturally in a few pertinent phrases here and there, without any need for static exposition. A vein of wry humour runs through almost every scene, from the Prince's opening conviction that all the excesses of the Terror can be explained away by Johnny Foreigner's lack of sporting spirit -- "why, if it weren't for fox-hunting and pheasant-shooting, we might be cruel too!" -- to Sir Percy's sleepy quip when his wife implores him to rise above trivialities for once ("Can't rise above anything longer than three syllables, m'dear -- never could") and the cheerful double meaning of his disguised assurances to a Frenchman reviling 'perfidious Albion': ''It won't take *us* long to cross the Channel, eh boys?'' But wordplay is also used to poignant effect, as when he tells Marguerite, estranged from her husband but bedazzled by the romantic image of the unknown Scarlet Pimpernel, "For all you know, he's a married man deeply in love with his wife..."

If the script is witty, humane and on occasion impassioned, it owes a great deal also to the nuanced delivery of the cast. Nigel Bruce far outshines his bumbling Watson of later years in the pat of the pompous and preening but not entirely stupid Prince-Regent-to-be; Raymond Massey's Chauvelin is intelligent as well as menacing, despite an accent that strays periodically and disconcertingly across the Atlantic from France, plus the necessary abridgement of the plot for cinematic purposes; Merle Oberon, no raving beauty to today's taste, provides all the resourcefulness and heartbreak one could ask for, playing proud, neglected Marguerite -- one can easily credit her as Orczy's 'cleverest woman in Europe'.

But casting Leslie Howard in the dual title role was a simple stroke of genius. His tall figure and bony beak of a face serve perfectly both as the languid Sir Percy, setting off a series of immaculately-fitting 'unmentionables', and as the commanding, quick-thinking Pimpernel; and the scene in which he drops from one persona to the other almost in mid-sentence upon the entry of the irate Colonel Winterbottom is a joy to watch. He is absolutely convincing as the "spineless, brainless and useless" fop, and yet he can shade intelligence and feeling back into his features at the drop of a hat in unconcealed moments that never let the audience forget the man behind the mask. His scenes with Merle Oberon as Marguerite are joint masterpieces of brittle drawing-room comedy with an undertow of unhappiness that convinces us of the former passion between them, alluded to but never shown.

Blakeney, of course, gets all the best lines, and Leslie Howard makes the most of them, mocking with exquisite insolence in his guise as licensed fool. But perhaps the third factor that really makes this film is the richness of those background moments when the starring characters are not there. The secure pomp of England epitomised in the opening shots of the changing of the guard; the revolutionary barber stropping his blade with eagerness at the thought of aristocrats' throats; the 'tricoteuses' beneath the guillotine, counting off heads with busily-clicking needles; and the instants of screen time that establish each of the 'aristos' awaiting execution -- tiny, non-speaking parts -- as individuals in their own right.

The script is intelligent, succinct and sparkling with understatement. The actors' faces speak as eloquently in the pauses as in any silent drama. The black-and-white photography is sumptuous, from the lavish ballroom scenes to the grimy "Lion D'Or" in Boulogne. And Leslie Howard is endlessly watchable in an ever-changing portrayal of leashed strength in masquerade. The only caveats I'd make are concerning the soundtrack quality -- I suspect the prints I've heard have been damaged -- and the final brief epilogue scene, which despite the gentle wordplay falls, to me, a little flat. In all other respects this would be the "Scarlet Pimpernel" I'd recommend: every time.

"They seek him here, they seek him there, those Frenchies seek him everywhere..." He's the cunning English spy code-named Pimpernel: master of disguises, savior to guillotine-bound aristocrats during the French Revolution, and most likely to be found in London making as big an ass of himself as credulity will allow. No one (not even his wife) would ever suspect the idiotic Sir Percy Blakeney of being the leader of an underground network of anti-Republic rebels, and it's still a joy to watch Leslie Howard, in the title role, successfully negotiating the ruse under the disdainful noses of his enemies. Without the unexpected element of farce the whole thing would be just another dated exercise in derring-do and low adventure, but the Pimpernel's foppish alter ego makes him one of the more unique (and hilarious) heroes ever to grace the silver screen. The poetry is, by the way, Sir Percy's own: "Is he in heaven, or is he in hell, that damned elusive Pimpernel?" ("It has a certain something..." he tells a giggling audience of landed gentry, "which gives it a certain...something.")

I loved this movie largely for the fabulous performances that both Oberon and Howard give. Nothing beats Howard dressed up as an old woman and fooling the silly French soldiers!

Howard's performance is beautifully understated. His performance is based mostly in his facial expressions, which gives the performance its power. There is a tendency by later actors who have played the Pimpernel to really over do the fop business, but he gives it just the right intensity.

Oberon is perfect as Lady Blakeney, and she has wonderful chemistry with Howard. She also does a lot with facial expressions and closeups

The other good thing is that not all the French people in this movie sounded like they were English!