Ah, good old Zorro, doling out vigilante justice in the form of disfiguring Z-shaped scars on the faces of those who deserve it, at least as he sees it. Well, it's a good thing he's never wrong, and stands up for the victims of oppression, including some Native Americans and priests. With this film Douglas Fairbanks really launched the character, who just a year before appeared for the first time in a serialized story in a pulp magazine. It also helped establish the action genre in Hollywood, and was the first of his films that made him a superstar, so it should get some credit for its place in film history.
It's certainly watchable today, but for me suffers a little for its age. It's a little too comical at times, e.g. getting a guy to fall for the old "hey what's that on your boot" line during a sword fight, and then later cutting a Z into the backside of his pants. At other times, it's a lot of Fairbanks running away from a bunch of caballeros chasing him, and while some of his stunts scaling walls and jumping precariously about are entertaining, they wear a little thin.
I liked how well Fairbanks switched his body language and demeanor between the characters of the dashing Zorro and Don Diego Vega, a lethargic fop who appears to be interested in shadow puppets and parlor tricks more than anything else, including the young lady in the story (Marguerite De La Motte). As I watched it, the connection to Batman (created a couple of decades later) couldn't have been clearer - like the caped crusader, Zorro has an affluent alter-ego, wears a mask, stands up for victims, and even has the equivalent of a Batcave, which was the coolest part of the movie. The ease with which he ultimately prevails is also reminiscent of a comic book.
It's certainly watchable today, but for me suffers a little for its age. It's a little too comical at times, e.g. getting a guy to fall for the old "hey what's that on your boot" line during a sword fight, and then later cutting a Z into the backside of his pants. At other times, it's a lot of Fairbanks running away from a bunch of caballeros chasing him, and while some of his stunts scaling walls and jumping precariously about are entertaining, they wear a little thin.
I liked how well Fairbanks switched his body language and demeanor between the characters of the dashing Zorro and Don Diego Vega, a lethargic fop who appears to be interested in shadow puppets and parlor tricks more than anything else, including the young lady in the story (Marguerite De La Motte). As I watched it, the connection to Batman (created a couple of decades later) couldn't have been clearer - like the caped crusader, Zorro has an affluent alter-ego, wears a mask, stands up for victims, and even has the equivalent of a Batcave, which was the coolest part of the movie. The ease with which he ultimately prevails is also reminiscent of a comic book.