The Crusades, one of the five movies in The Cecil B. DeMille Collection, opens with typically big DeMille strokes as the Muslim Saracens of Asia overrun Jerusalem, driving out and enslaving Christians, leading to a hermit "holy man" (C. Aubrey Smith, whose very presence usually cues the orchestra) to tell off Saladin (Ian Keith), the "Sultan of Islam," and to vow to gather the Christian nations in battle against him. This long-hair-and-sandals stock character does just that, finally getting to Richard (Wilcoxon) in England, who finds that the old man's offer to pledge to defend Christendom will let him disavow his pledge to marry Alice (Katherine DeMille, the director's adopted daughter). The king of France (C. Henry Gordon) wants this marriage to go through, to ensure Richard won't invade France, and you can practically hear the worry lines pop on le roi's forehead, especially after the Christian nations' troops head to Marseille to board ships to the Holy Land and, in needing to secure provisions for his men, Richard makes a deal to marry the king of Navarre's daughter, Berengaria (Young).
Richard has such initial disregard for this alliance that he sends his sword as a stand-in at the hastily-arranged marriage (hello, Dr. Freud). But once he takes a gander at lovely Berengaria, who'd admired Richard's virile reputation until she saw him treat his men brutally, he forces her to come along to Palestine. His notion that she should assume her wifely duties don't go over so well and, while the Christian-Muslim conflict plays out in larger scale, so does one between the newlyweds. Sometimes the two conflicts intermingle, as a meeting between Richard and Saladin turns into a contest over whose sword is sharper and lets Berengaria see that the Sultan of Islam is, in some ways, more gentlemanly than her husband. Saladin notices her, too.
Whether it's DeMille's "great man" approach to history (Richard's and Saladin's rank-and-file soldiers are all nobodies) or the over-the-top production design (like the council meeting in a remote battle encampment that looks like it took a crew a week to build), The Crusades threatens to plummet of the cliff of credibility if you think about it closely. But, fortunately, the movie doesn't bog down enough to leave room for such close examination. About two-thirds in, just when credibility is at a low, comes a brilliant battle scene in which the Christians storm the walls of Acre, the town where, we're told, the "true cross of our lord" resides. Fireballs catapult their way into the parapets lining the walls, ladders slap up against the fortress-like walls for Christians to ascend, moats splash with the arrivals of soldiers knocked from their climb and liquid fire dumped from cauldrons rains down on the invaders. DeMille was reportedly so demanding on his stunt crew that the men nearly revolted, but they did an intense job.
By this point in the story, Saladin has abducted Berengaria and Richard must find a way to rescue her, prove his love to her and liberate Jerusalem for Christendom. Not surprisingly, Richard essentially fills this inside straight, and The Crusades rewards its hero several times over. (Of course, whenever it gets to religion, which it does a handful of times, DeMille's movie fetishizes it in the most clichéd ways). But Wilcoxon, who combines the gravitas of a classically-trained actor with a winning athleticism, puts you on his side right away. He walks a fine line between the self-confidence that makes Richard appealing to others and the arrogance that Berengaria sometimes see in him. Without him, all of DeMille's spectacle is worthless.
There's been debate over whether The Crusades was a hit or not. Some places (including DeMille's autobiography) claim not, others say it was popular. But its aftermath strongly indicates it was a big-budget flop. Wilcoxon, after getting his big break just before it in DeMille's Cleopatra, settled back into playing featured and supporting roles (often for DeMille), while the director, after having made several non-western historical epics in the early 1930s, wouldn't make another for over a decade. That doesn't sound like the opportunism with which Hollywood usually capitalizes on a hit.
To order The Crusades, go to TCM Shopping.
by Paul Sherman
