In today’s LA Times, I review the new cinematic biography Douglas Fairbanks by Jeffrey Vance with Tony Maietta.
In my years researching early silent film, I’d always skirted around Fairbanks, who seemed just TOO BIG, saddled with the kind of fame that makes most stories flat and untrue. Who is the real George Washington? Who knows?
I think that Vance has done a good job of dodging the oft-told tales of Fairbanks, which he does by focusing on his films. He devotes complete chapters to Fairbanks’ most significant works: “The Mask of Zorro” (1920), “The Three Mustketeers” (1921), “Douglas Fairbanks in Robin Hood” (1922) “The Thief of Bagdad” (1924), “Don Q Son of Zorro” (1925) and “The Black Pirate” (1926), as well as “Douglas Fairbanks as The Gaucho” (1927), “The Iron Mask” (1929) and “The Taming of the Shrew” (1929, with wife Mary Pickford).
But in doing so he left me wanting a little more of what made the great artist tick. Vance makes the case for him as an auteur – yet when, late in the book, contemporaries’ quotes refer to him as a narcissist, I wonder how those things are connected. Was he a great artist creating great art, or a man obsessed with his own image (or simply himself), or some combination?
I watched some of my DVD of The Thief of Bagdad when working on the piece, and it was a reminder that words can’t really come close to what Douglas Fairbanks did. This book will give you some perspective on the realness of the stunts, the enormity of the sets, the dreamlike art deco of the art design — but it can’t ever explain the joy that radiates from Douglas Fairbanks as he leaps and grins.
So… look for some videos of the man in action to show up on Jacket Copy later today.
