Scaramouche is a gasp from a dying genre. The simplistic moral structure that was so uplifting in the films of the 30s and 40s was beginning to look silly in the post war world. Add in that most everything that could be done with the genre in that form had been done, and itâs not surprising that its time was over. A bit of artificial life was instilled into Swashbucklers with color. The studios released a series of uninspired, clichĂ©d, sword epics with spectacular, rich, colors.  This couldnât keep going for long, and shortly after Scaramouche, the genre all but disappeared for thirty years. A few sub-genres appeared and disappeared in those years, such as Sword & Sandal and Arabian Fantasy along with the occasional lackluster Swashbuckler.
Still, if the genre was slipping into limbo, it wasnât going quietly as Scaramouche is exciting, funny, and contains one of the greatest swordfights. One of the many Swashbucklers based on Rafael Sabatini novels, the movie follows Andre Moreau (Stewart Granger), a rogue and bastard son of unknown royalty. This isnât about helping the masses or upholding right. Andre is a playboy that abuses his âgirlfriend,â threatens and assaults anyone who gets in his way, and laughs off thoughts of freedom and equality. He could easily be the villain if the story was told from a different point of view. But itâs not, and his charm wins over everyoneâincluding me. The only character that holds higher ideals is Philippe (pre-Six Million Dollar Man Richard Anderson), Andreâs friend, who comes off as a fool. When Philippe is killed by the master duelist, the Marquis de Mayness (Mel Ferrer), Andre vows revenge. Youâd think that would make for a dark film, but it doesnât. Nothing is to be taken too seriously. Itâs fun revenge. Even the coming French revolution is dismissed as nothing of real importance.
Director George Sidney is best known for musicals, and it shows. Scaramouche plays like a musical, just with swordfights instead of dance numbers.  There are lots of laughs, beautiful girls in colorful costumes, tragic events that donât feel tragic, and lots of enjoyable fluff.
The mixed nature of the characters makes Scaramouche more interesting than itâs contemporaries. Andre isnât the only one who is less than pure. Lenore, the woman itâs implied Andre is sleeping with, begins the film by attempting to marry a rich sausage maker for his money. When her fiancĂ©e mentions that the Delmor brothers sell more sausages, she immediately asks if they are married. Aline, the âgood girlâ of the piece, has no problem with her companion being a cold blooded killer. And that killer, the Marquis de Mayness, sometimes kills for chivalrous reasons. He is witty, well read, and cares for Aline, treating her far better than Andre treats Lenore, even when she gives him reason to doubt her.
This enjoyable romp climaxes in an incredible swordfight, said to be the longest in screen history (I have no idea if that is true). With the help of sword master Fred Cavens, Granger and Mel Ferrer fence up and down stairs, on balcony rails, and while standing on the backs of chairs. It ranks with the Flynn-Rathbone fight in The Adventures of Robin Hood, the Power-Rathbone fight in The Mark of Zorro, and the Elwes-Patinkin fight in The Princess Bride, as one of the four finest filmed swordfights.
Iâve never been satisfied with the ending of Scaramouche, either with the supernatural ability Andre appears to have to recognize his relatives or the very poor Napoleon joke, but these are minor complaints. Scaramouche is the best of the fantastically colored Swashbucklers of the 40s and early 50s.