The Sword and the Rose (1953)

Who’s ready for a history lesson?  No?  Well, too bad, because it’s happening.  Let’s take a third trip back to merry old England and the days of Henry Tudor. This is the Sword and the Rose.

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The Sword in the Rose is the third of four movies Walt Disney Productions made to make use of British funds that were frozen due to World War II.  Like The Story of Robin Hood and His Merrie Men, it was directed by Ken Annakin and starred Richard Todd.  The production team took some lessons from Robin Hood and Treasure Island and did a lot of pre-production work to make sure everything went as smoothly as possible.  They nailed down the storyline with storyboard work, which was previously only done for animated films, thereby avoiding wasting time with shooting scenes that didn’t work.  They also did a great deal of research to ensure historical accuracy… even though the story isn’t exactly historically accurate anyway.

That’s not the script writer’s fault, though.  This movie was actually based on a book written in 1898, When Knighthood Was In Flower by Charles Major.  It took liberties like changing Charles Brandon to a commoner even though he was actually a Duke and a childhood friend of the King.  Attempts to explore the new world were also added, even though they didn’t start those voyages for another fifty years.  The Duke also had nothing to do with the royal intrigue, and King Henry VIII was much younger than portrayed in the novel.  All these inaccuracies are the fault of the book that were simply adapted by the movie.  And between you and me, even before watching the movie, I found a flaw I knew was going to carry over.  This is the most boring book I have ever read in my entire life.  I love reading the classics, and the old-timey writing style is usually fun for me, but… yikes.

Walt chose to adapt such a pretentious and stuffy novel in the hopes that something so high-brow would earn him an Oscar nomination.  Yeah, not so much.  British audiences criticized the historical inaccuracies (though I’m sure those came from people who hadn’t read the book), and American audiences criticized the lack of action in the action film.  It only barely made back its budget.  Its disappointing returns soured Walt’s opinion of costume dramas.  It didn’t help that in the mid-fifties, Walt was already starting to drift away from filmmaking entirely.  He did stop by for a few months to oversee production, but he was very busy with a new project: Disneyland.

Let’s see if the movie is any less painful than the novel, shall we?

STORY

We open on the most unsubtle bit of foreshadowing ever. King Henry VIII of England is watching wrestlers from England and France battle it out. His younger sister, Mary Tudor, pushes through the crowd to ask him how it’s going. He rants and raves about how England keeps losing to the French which is just unacceptable. Mary points out that that’s not what he was saying yesterday when he was demanding she marry the King of France. He’s not going to let her distract him from the treaty he wants that easy, and for the first of many times he yells basically that he’s a man and she’d better do what he says.

He turns his back on her to yell at the English wrestlers to stop being awful, and some random guy steps out of the crowd to offer to fight the Frenchmen. The King asks his friend the Duke of Buckingham who he is. Apparently his name is Charles Brandon and he’s just come back from fighting an unnamed war. Mary scurries over to ask the Duke to wrestle. The King thinks this is a splendid idea and thanks Charles Brandon for offering anyway while the Duke takes his sweet time stripping down to his puffy shirt and pantaloons. The whole time the Duke and the Frenchman fight, Charles Brandon and Mary make eyes at each other.

When the Duke wins, Mary suggests he fight Brandon, which King Henry is all for because he just wants to watch people fight.  The Duke and Brandon obey, and in doing so, the Duke rips Brandon’s whole shirt off.  I think it’s in Richard Todd’s contract that he has to be shirtless in every movie he appears in.  Brandon throws the Duke to the ground, winning the match handily.  Mary suggests to her brother that he make Brandon Captain of the Guard, which he refuses because he likes him.  Somehow that makes sense.  He also says that if he didn’t, she’d probably fall in love with him, which, and of course, it’s heavy foreshadowing.  She sweetly suggests that he try hating the French King, but he sees right through her attempt to avoid the marriage.

Later on, we see that Charles Brandon, was, in fact, made Captain of the Guard.   His friend Edwin Caskoden, the King’s advisor, offers congratulations, but Brandon confides that it’s not really what he wants.  He’d rather be an explorer, gallivanting around the New World.  Alas, I am not watching Pocahontas so he’s stuck here doing guard things, including fetching Mary for her sister-in-law the Queen.  He’s not happy about having to do something that’s so far below his station or being treated like a common servant, but she’s the queen so he’s kind of stuck.  Edwin, being the total-bro-slash-plot-device he is, tells Brandon exactly where to find the princess.  He also warns Brandon not to fall in love with her apropos of nothing because this movie is just determined to smash everyone in the face with the foreshadowing.

We find Mary before Brandon does, playing badminton with her ladies in waiting and the Duke of Buckingham, who still hasn’t put his clothes back on.  Charles asks the ladies, perfectly politely, if one of them might be the princess he’s sent to find. Mary flies into a rage, offended that this stranger who’s been overseas doesn’t know her on sight at a time before photography. How dare he. He’s not about to take that nonsense so he sasses right back, saying she can’t be the Princess Mary because he’s heard she was sweet. Blindsided by the fact that this nobody is talking her like that, the princess orders the Captain to get on with it. He turns around and tells her lady in waiting to tell the Princess Mary that the Queen is looking for her. She’s not an owl, so after Brandon is gone Lady Margaret and the other ladies surround the princess, gossiping about how rude and uncouth the new Captain is. But Mary is enchanted. He didn’t talk to her like a Captain would a princess. He talked to her like ordinary people.

The Duke hurries over to Mary to make sure she’s all right after the encounter. Mary tells him he wasn’t bothering her, he was just telling her the Queen wants her. He has some choice words for the Queen that basically boil down to “ew she’s Spanish”. Mary forfeits the game of badminton to him, but that’s not winning. Anyway, the only game he wants to win is courtship, which startles her into running away. He chases after her because “no” doesn’t mean anything when you’re rich and creepy, and plays it off like he’s just trying to save her from marrying the King of France. He even slips in a little nugget about how King Henry has already started sending negotiators to France. He’ll happily betray the King and risk his head if it means saving Mary from such a fate. She refuses, but thanks him for being such a good friend.

Mary flutters into the throne room, and addresses her brother’s wife, Queen Catherine of Aragorn, as “Sister Kate.” The proud Spanish queen is offended by this, earning more sass from Mary. Queen Catherine cuts to the chase. She’s concerned that Mary hasn’t invited some of Henry’s favorite noblemen to the upcoming royal ball. She hasn’t finished sending out the invitations yet, but she’ll consider it. To make sure it gets done, she waves over Sir Edwin, Master of Revels which I think means he’s the party planner. She requests that he throw a few new names into the mix, but he’s not fooled. He knows immediately that she’s talking about Charles Brandon. She gives some suspiciously specific denial, insisting she’s not sure he can even dance. Edwin wagers they can, and the two put money on it and decide to bring Brandon to the princess’s drawing room to find out.

Turns out, he can dance, quite well in fact. Edwin gloats to the Lady Margaret that he totally won the bet while she strums the mandolin. Mary and Brandon apologize to each other for the mutual rudeness in the courtyard. She even compliments his dancing, and asks him to show her some of the dances he learned while overseas. Brandon asks Lady Margaret to provide the accompaniment, but she protests, whining that the Spanish music is too difficult for her delicate lady hands. Sir Edwin comes to the rescue of course and man I don’t know why this rubbed me the wrong way so much but boy howdy did it. Brandon and Mary take to the dance floor, and before long he slides his arm around her waist to lift her off the ground. This intrusion horrifies Mary, and even Margaret can’t believe French and Spanish gentlemen would touch a lady’s waist like that.

Okay, I know this was how they thought in medieval England but it’s so overwrought and so long that it comes off as ridiculous. It doesn’t help that this is the first real moment of conflict in the entire movie. It’s treated with such gravity, more even than the impending marriage to the French King so far, that I can’t take it seriously. What’s worse, I don’t feel like the writers are taking it seriously. Edwin points out that he should probably learn this new dance since it’s his job and all, so he asks Margaret to try it since Mary is reluctant. Excited by the prospect of rebellion, she hurries forward and gushes that being lifted up is just like flying. Meanwhile, Mary sulks, jealous that her friend is dancing so scandalously with her crush.

The night of the royal ball, Brandon rides in and meets the Duke in the castle foyer. The Duke orders him to get out unless he’s there as a guard. When Brandon ignores him, the Duke pulls his sword on him. Just when it looks like this thing is going to finally have some action, Brandon catches the sword in his bare hand and… scolds him. Edwin breaks up the fight before it can really even begin, informing the Duke that Brandon is here on Princess Mary’s personal invitation. Edwin ushers Brandon away with a warning that the Duke is an excellent swordsman, but Brandon isn’t afraid.

King Henry and Queen Catherine enter the ballroom, followed by the Princess and Lady Margaret. Princess Mary steps forward to choose her partner for the first dance, and the Duke is all pompous and ready to take her in his arms. She walks right past him without even looking at his gallant bow, much to his chagrin. It’s not gonna happen, dude, get over it. To the shock of no one, Mary chooses to dance with Charles Brandon, and a very long and boring choreographed dance begins. Even King Henry falls asleep to the dreary music. Finally, the musicians start playing something much livelier. Brandon lifts Mary off her feet, and a gasp ripples through the crowd. King Henry and Queen Catherine leap to their feet, furious. Catherine orders Henry to stop the music, but he doesn’t because he can see his sister is happy. So she does it herself.

Mary runs up to ask what’s wrong, and Catherine snarls that she won’t allow such indecency. And I have to ask- isn’t she Spanish? It’s a Spanish dance. Why is she so offended by something that should be familiar to her? Whatever. She is. And Mary does not care because it’s her ball and she’ll dance how she wants to, thanks. Henry laughs and hops into the fray, doing the horrible lewd waist-grabbing dance with his sister which totally isn’t weird at all. He knows that it was Brandon who taught Mary the dance, which she doesn’t deny. A pretty girl catches Henry’s eye, and he eagerly hurries over to dance with her. It’s implied (though not stated) that she’s Anne Boleyn, so this chance meeting isn’t going to end well for Catherine… or Anne, for that matter. But that’s another story. Now the whole crowd is doing this appallingly indecent dance and having a great time.

So it’s time for a scene change because this movie is bound and determined to be as dull as possible. King Henry and his hunting party ride ahead of Princess Mary and Lady Margaret. The two ladies watch Charles Brandon bring up the rear and impress everyone with his marksmanship. All this is so incredibly fascinating that I cannot believe I’m only twenty-five minutes in. Mary catches up with Brandon and whines that her horse’s saddle is loose, but Brandon can’t find anything wrong. The hunting party leaves him behind, giving Mary the opportunity to race off into the trees. Brandon gives chase, and soon they’re exhausted and deep in the woods. Brandon helps Mary dismount from her horse, and they hold each other just a little longer than necessary before she scurries to sit on a log.

Mary calls Brandon on the way he scowls at her and ignores his duty to protect her. His excuse is that the King has kept him busy with other Captain of the Guard duties, but that’s not good enough. She orders him to pick her some flowers to make up for it. While he’s doing that, she decides she wants a sonnet, too, even though he protests that he’s not a very good poet. And also a commoner has no business writing sonnets for a Princess. She doesn’t care, though, and he ends up coming up with something on the fly about how beautiful and wonderful she is. But then he twists it into being about how he still wants to up and leave for the New World. She steps in close to them, and there’s some really intense eye contact. Mary accuses him of cruelly taunting him with a love she can’t have, and reminding her of her station when all she wants is to act on her own love. The two almost kiss, but Lady Margaret the buzzkill bursts out of the trees to call her back to the hunting party. To her credit, though, she doesn’t say anything about the way the commoner has his arms around the princess. You go, Margaret.

Back in the castle, the Duke sulks melodramatically next to a window. King Henry asks him what he thinks of Charles Brandon, completely oblivious to the romantic rivalry thing. The Duke is pragmatic enough to suggest that Mary would love it if the King made Brandon a knight. It doesn’t click with Henry until he sees Brandon and Mary making eyes at each other as they ride back. He’s not worried about it, though. Every man at court is in love with Mary… though as the Duke notes it’s the first time she’s loved someone back. At that moment, the ambassadors return from France, giving Henry the perfect opportunity to rid his sister of this silly love thing.

As Mary prepares to leave Brandon, they both try to remember the sonnet. Neither can, so Mary asks him to write her another tomorrow. Brandon calls her “my lady” when he bids her goodnight, and she asks him to call her Mary. He just can’t do it, so he refers to her as Princess Mary, again bashing us over the head with the whole “starcrossed lovers kept apart by social norms” thing. This movie has all the subtlety of a whole army of sledgehammers. It’s getting a little ridiculous. We’re also like 40 minutes in at this point and nothing has happened. So that’s cool.

The French ambassador, Delongueville by name, gives this long, flowery, and heavily accented speech that basically promises peace between the two countries in exchange for the marriage. I think. King Henry asks how much gold the French king wants for Mary’s dowry. Delongueville is super extra, and goes on and on about how King Louis isn’t nearly as interested in gold as he is in Mary. He just took one look at a painting of the princess, fell madly in love with her, and decided he had to have her for his own. Which… um. Wow. Did I mention that the reason Mary is so against this marriage is that King Louis is really, really old? So that’s yikes. Henry is ecstatic at the idea of not having to pay to give his sister away for free, but that’s not what Delongueville said. Louis some gold, no less than four thousand crowns.

Furious, Henry storms off to consult his advisors before agreeing to anything. One of these is the Duke, who doesn’t say much until Henry calls him on it. According to him, the “citizens” would be happier if Mary married an Englishman. An Englishman like him. Henry is about as observant as a brick and rages that Mary is his sister and therefore his property to do with as he likes. So that got my dragon dander up. He decides he’s going to tax the citizens to raise the dowry, and puts the Duke in charge of that task. Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to make anyone more okay with the idea of Mary marrying a French guy but whatever I’m not royalty.

King Henry goes back to Delongueville to accept the terms. The French ambassador requests to personally give Mary an enormous diamond necklace. Seriously, the box is as big as his entire torso, how does anyone wear something like that? The King orders his advisor to fetch the princess, which he does, doing this weird little wobble with its own theme music all the way up the tower stairs. Mary’s already in a raging temper because Margaret’s asking questions about Charles Brandon that she doesn’t want to answer, so she about rips the poor guy’s head off when he tells her her brother wants her. It’s a shame, too, because Margaret’s just trying to look out for her friend and warn her how dangerous it is for Brandon to pursue the princess of all people. She just makes the mistake of reminding Mary that King Henry expects her to marry royal. Mary snaps back that she’ll marry who she wants, thanks very much, and slams the door to her bedchamber.

The advisor, who is not paid enough for this, wobbles back down the throne room to mumble that the princess won’t come down. Henry flips out. He and his entire retainer rage up the stairs to make her come down. Margaret meets them with a curtsey and warns that Princess Mary is indisposed. Henry pushes past her to bang on Mary’s door, screaming at her to come down or else. The stubborn princess refuses but he’s one of those guys who doesn’t understand “no” and will get his way at any cost so he breaks his sister’s bedroom door down. He gets his, though. When she sarcastically beckons him in, she’s naked in her bed! He screams at her to cover herself with more than the sheet, but she smiles sweetly and says she’s only obeying her brother. She even has the gall to stick her bare foot and ankle out from under her sheets! The scandal! Before she can step out of the bed and completely expose herself, Margaret panics and throws Mary’s discarded dress up like a screen.

Mercifully, Henry and his retinue retreat back to the throne room. Henry mutters that if Mary is so contrary she’d make a great guard if she were a man.  He gives the horrified French ambassadors the excuse that the sudden shock of her impending marriage has driven his sister insane.  Which, I don’t know, if I were one of those French guys, I’d take that as a big red flag why this is a bad idea but who cares what the girl wants, they’re not really people.  Back upstairs, Mary steps out of her bed, revealing that she is still wearing her slip, decent by 1953 and 2019 standards but not medieval.  Margaret hurries over to help her dress properly, while Mary barks orders for her to send for Charles Brandon. The lady in waiting pleads for Mary to stop chasing her own happiness and listen to her brother like a good little pawn.  But Mary is a strong independent woman centuries before it was acceptable, and she won’t let any man keep her from getting what she wants.  You go, Mary.

When Mary makes it to the meeting place, it’s not Brandon she finds there but the Duke. He blithely informs her that Brandon abandoned her and flittered off to the New World without even a goodbye.  The only comfort he has to give Mary is that he didn’t just up and leave, he left a note.  It’s like the medieval equivalent of a break-up text, but it’s something.  As the heartbroken princess holds the note to her chest, the King and his men enter the room.  Henry gives Delongueville permission to give Mary his gift, which seems like horrendously awful timing but he clearly doesn’t care that she’s grieving. Delongueville plows ahead, spewing overwrought compliments and foisting the necklace on her. So she throws it in his face.  That’s how she really feels about King Louis and everyone’s completely lack of tact.  And of course, Henry has to make it worse, vowing that she’s going to marry the king or he’ll have her whipped to death.  I really don’t like this guy.

Turns out Charles Brandon really did up and leave for the New World, because all the men in this movie are determined to be awful. He’s currently sitting in a tavern, asking the captain of the ship when he’ll be taking him away. The captain pours him a drink and warns that no one can control the weather so it’ll be a few hours yet. While Brandon’s waiting, a hooded figure dismounts a horse and hurries up to him. It’s Mary! She’s put on a hooded cloak and run away to be with her lover. Brandon is horrified, knowing the King will be after her. She assures him that no one saw her and she’ll be long gone by the time anyone figures it out. It’ll take a complete idiot not to realize she’s gone to be with Brandon but all right.

Ever logical, Brandon points out that sailors think it’s bad luck to have a woman aboard, but Mary has a way around that, too. Kind of. She drops the cloak to reveal that she’s dressed like a page. Like Maid Marion before her, her “boy” disguise includes perfectly coiffed hair, hot pink lips, and perfect mascara. I mean she does not pass as a boy at all. Brandon, though, is impressed with her cleverness and the lengths she’ll go for him, and the two finally share a kiss. He plays with her long hair as a nonverbal warning, so she tucks it under her hat. Now she looks like a woman with a fashionable 50’s style up-do and breeches. Even Brandon notices that she really, really does not look like a man in the slightest, but he tells her it’s because she’s too pretty when she smiles. I mean, true, Glynis Johns is gorgeous, but I don’t think that’s why she still looks feminine. I think it’s more like the full face of makeup and the fact that they didn’t bind her chest at all. Just as shot in the dark.

The sailors make ready to sail away. Brandon makes the incredibly stupid mistake of holding the door for his page like he would for the princess, and the Captain notices. The “page” apologizes for walking in front, and Brandon threatens to hit “him” if he tries it again. But there’s no real bite to it so it’s really unconvincing. Mary is worried that they know she’s a woman, which… yeah. Yeah, they do. Because it’s really obvious. And Brandon’s response is to just hope no one notices until they’re at sea when they just have to deal with it. This is obviously a really stupid plan, and Mary’s plan not to leave the cabin ever is even worse. Shockingly, it all goes sideways immediately, when the Captain knocks on the door. The sailors are toasting to the voyage, and even telling them that Brandon’s page is sick won’t deter them sharing a drink with “him.”

The crew takes one good look at the page’s face and knows she’s a woman. Good job idiots. One of them rips Mary’s cloak off and pull her against them. Brandon draws his sword to protect her honor from these creeps because apparently he’s the only guy in this movie who views her as a person. About ten guys jump him, and the rest get ready to have their way with Mary. The Captain intervenes just in time, but he’s furious at the deception. He accuses Mary of trying to bewitch the ship, tosses a sack of gold at Brandon, and orders them both sent ashore. So there goes that. Who would have thought such a harebrained scheme wouldn’t work out? And as a result I’ve lost out on ten minutes of my life.

When they arrive back on shore, the Duke is waiting for them. He might as well be twirling his mustache as he orders Brandon under arrest for kidnapping the princess. She doesn’t even defend him or tell the Duke she ran away. I guess they’re not ready to drop that big old Idiot Ball. All she wants is a chance to speak to Brandon privately before he’s hauled away. She promises him she won’t let him rot away in the Tower of London… because she just knows she can make King Henry listen to her. Anyone with a brain can guess how this is going to go, but she’s still plowing ahead with this reason thing. She kisses Brandon goodbye, vowing to marry him whatever it takes. And good luck with that. I’ll just go bang my head against the wall.

King Henry chitchats with his advisors about Brandon’s treason, over breakfast of course. Mary storms in, demanding to speak to her brother alone. He refuses to send his counselors away, so Mary soldiers on to speak on Brandon’s behalf. Henry just recounts his many crimes: kidnapping Mary, compromising her virtue, and worst of all, complicating his treaty with France. Mary defends her boyfriend, because of course he didn’t lay a hand on her and in fact saved her from the sailors and she ran away. Henry and his counselors don’t care at all and carry on deciding whether Brandon will be hung or beheaded.

Mary pleads for Brandon’s life, even going as far as agreeing to marry Louis XII if it means her boyfriend won’t be killed. The counselors offer their two cents: the Cardinal says that the princess’s unwillingness might offend the French, and the Duke says that because the French king is so old he’ll probably keel over inside a month anyway. He offers to let Mary choose her own second husband as a reward for sucking it up and making the treaty happen. This is surprisingly magnanimous of him, but he’s still clearly angling to be that second husband. She’s said no more than once, man. Take a hint. Henry VIII agrees, but as a precaution, he won’t release Brandon until after the wedding. That way, he can make sure she doesn’t try anything funny. Mary thanks her “most devoted friend” the Duke for his help. She’s really oblivious and he’s really friendzoned.

The royal wedding day rolls around, and there is still half an hour left of this thing. King Louis, who is clearly a young actor in subpar old age makeup, raises a toast to his new Queen. He tasks his cousin Francis and his wife Claude with teaching Mary about French culture. Francis kisses Mary’s hand as is customary but lingers way way creepily too long.  Louis notes that Mary hasn’t spoken or touched the extravagant feast before her. Her excuse is that she’s overwhelmed which may not be the best time for him to bat his eyes and tell her how he can’t wait for the wedding night but you know the King does what he wants I guess.  Mary is just as grossed out as I am by that and just wants to know what her duties will be. He just does not get how incredibly skeevy he’s being and tells her that her only duty is pleasing him. Ew ew ew ew. It’s going to take drastic measures to get out of this one, so she takes a glass of wine and hands it over to the frail king. His physician hurries over to warn him that the alcohol will have ill effects on his health, but Louis snaps that it’s his wedding and he’s going to celebrate.

By the third glass, Francis cottons on to what Mary is trying to do. He helps out by filling more glasses, whispering straight up that he wants to marry her.  Mary shudders and reminds him he’s a married man, but he’s not particularly fussed about that.  He’s perfectly willing to just dump his wife for her.  Poor Claude.  And poor Mary.  What is it with every guy in this movie trying to get into her pants?  They’re not even subtle about it.  Luckily, Louis provides a distraction by collapsing to the ground, drunk.  The physician calls for the assemblage to avert their eyes… which they do.  In unison.  It is weird.  As the King’s retainers carry him away, the physician apologizes and tells her she can’t see him tonight.  Mary turns away so he won’t see her smile.

Meanwhile, Charles Brandon is imprisoned in the Tower of London just like King Henry said he would be. He’s immediately suspicious when the Duke pays him a visit. Because the Duke exists to ruin everything, he informs Brandon that Mary has married the French King. That part’s true. What’s not true is that she married him for the big shiny crown and pretty jewels, and that she doesn’t miss Brandon at all. The lying liar who lies offers to help him escape if he goes to the new world and never looks back. Brandon is too heartbroken to be suspicious, because everyone in this movie is ridiculously stupid.

That night, the Duke signals to Brandon to climb out the Tower window. As he makes his way to the street below, the Duke orders two of his own men to follow. Brandon swims through the moat and pushes open the gates. He finds a little rowboat waiting for him and rows through the fog like the Phantom of the Opera. The Duke’s men are there inside his boat. They jump out and attack Brandon, set to slow, dreamy music that in no way suits the action scene whatsoever. The fight takes forever but finally one of the assassins stabs Brandon. No one bothers to make sure he’s dead. They just dump him in the moat and signal to the Duke that the job is done. The job is not done. Brandon claws his way out of the water and clings to a piece of driftwood.

Life goes on in France. Mary mounts her horse with Edwin and Margaret at her side. A ways away, the King Louis’s retainers lift him onto his horse and take their sweet time making sure he’s all right. Mary lies through her teeth to sweeten her husband, all about how happy she is when riding or dancing with him. He laments that they have yet to be alone together while batting his eyes at her all over again. Mary politely notes that they’re alone together now, playing coy, but the King pushes forward. That’s not what he wants and we all know it and it is gross. In an effort to impress her, he races forward. She pulls ahead easily, and he tries to keep up, but the effort of riding gets to him. He gasps for breath, and the retainers rush to load him onto his litter. Francis takes the opportunity to be creepy. He doesn’t even try to hide his weird sexual comments any more than is required by a G-rated film. Mary throws her reigns at his face and hurries away, but this only makes him more enamored with her.  Ew.

That night, Mary keeps up appearances and checks in on her husband. The physician won’t let her see him out of worry for the King’s health. He warns that the King may not survive the weak, and offers to keep her informed. Mary wastes no time in sending Margaret and Edwin back to England with a message. They’re to tell Henry that Louis is dying and to fetch the Duke of Buckingham to send Brandon to France. Why she doesn’t just order Henry to do it is beyond me but I guess the movie needs to have drama somewhere. Margaret does exactly what she’s asked, but doesn’t quite get the results she wants. The Duke smoothly tells Margaret that Brandon was killed trying to escape the Tower. Margaret gasps. Apparently if Mary doesn’t marry Brandon immediately, creepy Francis will use his power as the new King to force himself on Mary. And yes, those are the exact words. Luckily, a beggar finds Edwin with a letter from a man in a rough spot….

So we bounce back to France. This movie really has a problem with scene transitions. By the time the Duke gets there, Francis is already King. Apparently Louis died offscreen, but does anyone bother mentioning it? Nope. This major plot thread is resolved by implication alone. He refuses to return Mary to her brother, ‘for the good of both countries’. Yeah, right. He even offers to refund all of Mary’s dowry in exchange for her marrying him. The little cretin won’t even let the Duke speak to Mary at first, but eventually concedes. Mary is ecstatic to be back with her Good Friend the Duke. The first thing she asks for is news about Brandon, but the Duke sticks to his guns on the deadly escape attempt thing. Heartbroken, Mary lays on her Good Friend for comfort over her boyfriend’s death.

The beggar leads Edwin right to Brandon. Apparently in the time between his escape attempt and whatever just happened in France he’s managed to heal from his wounds. One of the Duke’s ships lies docked in the harbor, waiting for him to make it so it can take him and Mary back to London. Now that they know the Duke is there in France, they go to seek him out. Mary has fallen asleep snuggled against the Duke’s side by the time they make it to a little church in Calais. The Duke claims they’re just there to rest and refresh themselves and the horses, but the church setting feels just a little too convenient. Mary refuses to eat anyway, still distraught over Brandon’s death.

The Duke, however, is abnormally cheerful when he exposits what we’ve just seen to Mary. Francis wants her for his wife, and he’s willing to pay back all of her dowry if it means keeping her. There’s only one way to stop Henry sending her to Francis: for Mary to wed the Duke. Mary gasps and refuses to accept the idea of Henry backing down on their agreement to let her choose her second husband. And girl. Have you met your brother? The Duke points out that they’re conveniently in a church where they could be married on the spot. Mary’s heart still belongs to Charles Brandon and this creepy dudebro will never replace him. She orders him never to tell her he loves her again, because it’s never going to happen so get over it. And the Duke loses his mind.

He hauls her roughly to her feet by her arm and forcibly tries to kiss her. She shoves him off and slaps him across the face, which is the proper response to guys who act like this. No is a complete sentence, buddy. He’s still trying, though. He snarls that if she doesn’t marry him, he’ll take her right back to Francis. Mary’s eyes widen in horror, but it’s okay because Charles Brandon shows up just in time. She hides behind her big strong man, but he tells her to leave with Edwin. Brandon holds the Duke at sword point, refusing to even let his rival draw his sword. The Duke snivels now that he’s been beaten and requests a fair duel. Brandon accepts… on the condition that it happens after Mary is safely back in London. And he locks the Duke in a closet to keep him out of the way. He steals one of the Duke’s men’s horses to catch up to Edwin, tipping the guards off that something’s wrong.

They set him free and so beings a really, really boring horse chase. I admit: I tuned out here. There’s sword fighting. There are arrows. There’s bad fight choreography. Mary stands uselessly in a boat while the men fight. But at this point I was so completely over this movie that I could not pay attention. It doesn’t help that the whole climactic battle is done with no music whatsoever. It’s just painfully uninteresting, worse even than some of the moments in Robin Hood. I’m not sure why Walt is struggling so much with action when Treasure Island was so good but I just… can’t. Finally, Brandon stabs the Duke to death and all of Team Good Guys climbs into the boat. It’s off to London!

But the French ambassadors have gotten there first, and they’ve brought along a number of huge chests full of gold. Henry is seriously considering Francis’s offer when Mary rushes in to kiss his hands. She collapses on him, sobbing about how much she loves England and hates France. The manipulative minx even appeals to her brother’s inflated ego with a lie about Francis insulting him. Delongueville runs damage control and says they have the highest respect for Mary (yeah, right, no one else does) and Francis will stop at nothing to be her husband. Mary looks up, smiles, and tells the assemblage that she already has a husband.

Charles Brandon steps out. And it’s another huge plotline, the biggest in the movie in fact, that was resolved entirely offscreen! He informs Henry of the Duke’s treachery and lies (but not of the way he tried to assault Mary). Turns out the Duke survived his stabbing but he’s gone into hiding after all his evil plotting went sideways. Henry’s not really hearing any of this, though. He’s too furious that his sister went and married a commoner. Mary reminds him of the bargain that they made, and in the presence of the Cardinal no less. She did exactly what he told her she could and chose her own husband. She tells the French where they can shove their gold, but Brandon quiets her. He tells Henry that if he returns the gold, it will be a debt repaid and I don’t know I wasn’t listening at this point.

Henry does end up taking the gold. Yet at the same time, he does a complete 180 on his motivation through the entire rest of the movie and blesses Mary’s marriage to Brandon. He asks what else they want from him, but Brandon is content with Mary’s hand. Mary, however, has one more request. She wants the King to make Brandon Duke of Suffolk, giving him a title and solving the commoner problem. She then requests that Brandon get all the gold in the chests, but Henry screams at her. She tries a different tack, and he agrees that he can have twenty manors to make money off because feudalism, but that’s the last thing she’s getting out of him. He orders Brandon to take Mary away to Suffolk and keep her there so she stops asking for stuff. He storms away, but pokes his head back out to deliver the worst “joke” I have ever heard in my life. He orders Charles Brandon to beat Mary three times a day! And laughs! Are you kidding me? Even Brandon is uncomfortable! He finally tells Mary he loves her and they kiss. The end.

My god, this thing is dull. I’m not much of a fan of these kind of political movies, and it doesn’t help that the action scenes are so poorly executed. Mostly, though, the way Mary is treated throughout the film really grated. No one, not even her brother, seems to think of her as human, and everyone is trying to get a piece of her even when she explicitly doesn’t want their attentions. The movie tries to paint her as a strong independent woman but mostly ends up making her look like a shrieking harpy to be ignored and subdued. It’s like all the worst bits of Taming of the Shrew with a healthy helping of dudebro culture. I know the 1950s were not a good time to have two X chromosomes and medieval times were even worse. Still, this seems a bit much.

CHARACTERS

Charles Brandon is our designated protagonist. You can tell by the fact that he’s played by Richard Todd. The movie tells us he’s a wonderful swordsman and a brave soldier, but it never actually shows any of this. Mostly, he just stands there looking prettily tortured by his doomed romance with the princess.  To reference a show no one has probably heard of (but you should because it’s hilarious), he’s like if the title character of Galavant was taken seriously by the writers.  He’s strong, he’s brave, he’s perfect, and that’s it. Take the parody elements out of the writing and what you get is bland, bland, bland.

Princess Mary Tudor is a feisty, independent, opinionated lady several centuries before such ladies were acceptable. She makes the most of having everyone around her treat her like a piece of meat by using it to her advantage whenever she can. Normally, this is pretty admirable and I did find myself rooting for a lot of her schemes. But the movie can’t seem to decide whether or not we’re supposed to be on her side, even though the story revolves around her quest for happiness. Sometimes it feels like we’re supposed to want a man to be able to break her strong will. Glynis Johns would go on to play a much better written empowered woman: Winifred Banks, the mother in Mary Poppins. Well done, Sister Suffragette!

Sir Edwin Caskoden and Lady Margaret are interesting cases. In the book, they had a romantic subplot meant to make us root for their relationship as much as Brandon’s and Mary’s. Edwin was the narrator, and heavily involved in the action. Also, Margaret’s name was Jane and I’m really not sure why they changed it. Here, they’re just generic servants and friends of Mary’s and Henry’s as the plot requires. Edwin’s title of Master of Revels is alluded to and Margaret just runs around delivering messages. It’s bizarre. Also Edwin looks exactly like the Duke. Or maybe that’s just the fact that it’s really easy for me to go face-blind to these 50’s era actors.

King Henry VIII was historically not a good dude. He was the guy who made divorce legal so he could get younger and hotter wives, and decapitated them when they couldn’t give him sons. This movie takes all his unsavory traits from real life and tries to paste them onto a jovial comic relief type character. All of his rages are supposed to be fun, coming to a head with that horrible “beat her thrice a day” line that closes the movie. There’s some excellent acting from James Robertson Justice, who we previously saw as Little John, but it can’t save such a noxious character.

The Duke of Buckingham is even more noxious, because people like him are prevalent in real life in the modern day. We all know and hate that guy who makes a move on a female friend. She rejects him because she likes how things are, and he goes mental, whining about how she’s such a witch for leaving a nice guy like him in the friend zone. The Duke is that guy. The movie even reiterates that by having Mary repeatedly refer to him as “her dearest friend” all the time. It twists the knife every time it happens and drives him further down the road to one-dimensional villainy. He’s played by a very young Michael Gough, better known as Alfred in Tim Burton’s Batman films.

ARTISTRY

Everything about The Sword and the Rose looks lavish and extravagant. It stands up with some of today’s costume pictures in terms of the gorgeous costumes. The only difference is the heavy usage of matte paintings instead of sets and locations, but even that’s really difficult to notice. Set designer Peter Ellenshaw created no less than 62 matte paintings that were so detailed they don’t look like paintings at all. Walt was so impressed by his work he ended up with a lifetime contract. We’ll be seeing a lot more of his work as this project goes on.

MUSIC

One of the things that makes this film so utterly tedious is the fact that it isn’t a musical. I kept thinking as it went on that a musical number would help drive the story and make it a lot more interesting than the constant political stuff. However, Clifton Parker’s score is very good in places, suiting the medieval setting and action well. Highlights include the mandolin melody Margaret plays for Brandon and Mary to dance to, and the jaunty flute piece that accompanies the advisor running up and down the tower stairs. However, there are several moments where the music either doesn’t fit at all or is conspicuously absent.  This issue is particularly prevalent in the action scenes, which makes them incredibly dull when they shouldn’t be.  And it is bizarre.

FINAL THOUGHTS

The 50’s are not proving to be a good time for the Disney company.  This is the second film in a row that has been driven entirely by misogynistic tropes.  And guys, I don’t like being the person who thinks everything is problematic.  But watching everyone fighting over Mary like dogs over a bone is really painful to watch.

And she’s depicted as being in the wrong for being demanding and contrary, when really she’s just trying to exert some kind of control over her own fate.

It’s also a very talky movie. I feel like half my summary is “he said” or “she replied” and it was hard to write. The fact was, though, that that’s all that really happened. No one did anything. They just discussed it. Even when something actually happened, it happened offscreen, like King Louis’s death or the marriage between Brandon and Mary. Conversations can help more the plot along but stuff has to happen in between them, come on.

Favorite scene: Mary pretending to be naked to get her brother and his friends out of her room. Now that’s using what you got!

Final rating: 2/10. More sexist than Peter Pan and lacking the action, comedy, and visuals to back it up. Actually a little painful to watch and review. Hopefully the next one will be better. It’s cute animals! How bad can it be?