Cast:
Douglas Fairbanks (Don Juan), Merle Oberon (Antonita), Binnie Barnes (Rosita), Melville Cooper (Leporello), Benita Hume (Dona Dolores), Owen Nares (Antonio Martinez), Heather Thatcher (Anna Dora), Joan Gardner (Carmen), Gibson Gowland (Don Alfredo), and Barry MacKay (Rodrigo) Directed by Alexander Korda (#1678 - The Private Life of Henry VIII)
Review:
If there had to be a swansong for an actor that you could appreciate for what it did to generate a proper sendoff, I think this one might be appropriate for an actor at the stature of Douglas Fairbanks. At one point in time, he was "The King of Hollywood", one who went from comedy roles to swashbuckling features that made him one of the most memorable acting presences of the silent era, and it comes from an actor who entered film at the age of 32 after years of acting in the theater. Perhaps fittingly, the movie was distributed by United Artists, which Fairbanks had help co-found in 1919. His escapades in the silent era (which included him serving as producer and writer on several works) worked well right to his final silent feature in The Iron Mask (1929), which actually had a few select moments with sound. The Taming of the Shrew (1929), his first sound feature, was not particularly successful, and he slowed down his output of features with his health slowly declining due to years of smoking; his son, Douglas Fairbanks Jr, also became an actor with moderate stature that his father oversaw for a time. So yes, it wasn't just a case of Fairbanks having an unsuitable voice for sound films, he just happened to already had his great peak come and go in the previous era.. Now, at the age of 51, he was recruited by director/producer Alexander Korda (having made films in Hungary, Vienna, Berlin, the United States, and France) and his company London Film Productions, which had received attention the previous year for The Private Life of Henry VIII (incidentally, Korda would do an adaptation of The Thief of Bagdad in 1940, just sixteen years after Fairbanks had starred in the last one). It was his last starring role (he had a cameo appearance in one more film), as Fairbanks died five years later of a heart attack in 1939.
The film is based on the 1920 play L'homme à la Rose by Henry Bataille, with a screenplay written by Frederick Lonsdale and Lajos Bíró. The legend of the character Don Juan had been covered before with plays by Tirso de Molina, an opera with music by Mozart, and even an epic poem. This particular version of Don Juan reflects the actor clearly: middle-aged and trapped by his own legend to the point where the image is what survives most more so than the man (which reminds me of the image one would prefer to have about figures in their lives, such as an athlete or maybe an old friend). In that sense, the filmmakers have made an interesting farce that briefly muses on the dilemma that occurs for all folks reaching middle-age: how does one know when to leave the spotlight gracefully? You have a guy who thinks the best thing to escape the challenges of old age and a long-running bit is to have people assume he is dead, only to realize that the image of a young Don Juan in glory is more suitable for Seville rather than admitting the actual image. In short: you have to grow up sometime, because the adversary for the film isn't even one person, it is the idea that time will pass one by without looking (unless one counts authors documenting his exploits with artistic license an enemy). Fairbanks is surrounded by a cascade of women that hides his lessened cavalier action (i.e. climbing one wall rather than a handful), since this is a romantic comedy. With a run-time of 89 minutes, it does start off a bit slow, but it eventually gets its footing together with light chuckles with a fairly game Fairbanks trying to coast through what is needed. Oberon and Barnes make up a capable list of would-be lovers that inspire a bit of interest for the vague sensibility the movie has about men and women. Besides, it is Hume that is the one involved for the rapidly developed climax, one who is desperate for anything to latch onto with her wayward partner. Cooper is the beleaguered companion to the proceedings, wry to the situation presented without dragging the proceedings into anything other than light humor. As a whole, it doesn't quite reach the heights of Korda's big hit with Henry VIII (despite having a bit less studio-bound atmosphere than that film), but it at the very least seems solid enough for light enjoyment with semi-effective charm that matches its star with a look upon one's last journey without turning into an eulogy.
Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.
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