Mid-twentieth-century historical dramas are worth a look for the sumptuous sets and costumes Hollywood studios might provide, plus their big casts might draw in accomplished character actors. Columbia Pictures' low-budget style unfortunately leaves Mask of the Avenger wanting in both areas. The best sets are brief backdrops of Austrian sailing ships approaching the Italian coastal towns, but most of the action takes place on familiar California riding trails or in formulaic European-looking interiors.
The cast is disappointingly small and stereotypical, with one grand exception: Anthony Quinn as the corrupt military governor LaRocca. He makes a stock villain painfully comprehensible and overshadows the film's wan protagonist, Captain Dimorna played by John Derek. Their final sword fight looks like a total mismatch in LaRocca / Quinn's favor until he obligingly steps into Dimorna's blade. (In partial defense of Derek, I appreciated poster William Giesen's sympathetic review of Derek as a miscast character actor.)
The only other attraction derives from the story's origin in a Dumas novel I haven't read. The town has a statue of "The Count of Monte Cristo" with the late Count's sword in a glass case in the statue's plinth, which DiMorna brandishes in an effort to convince the townspeople that he has resumed the Count's battle on their behalf. Beyond that, the film may be interesting as a late specimen of the swashbuckling genre, threatened with extinction by the rise of television and the decay of the studio system.
The cast is disappointingly small and stereotypical, with one grand exception: Anthony Quinn as the corrupt military governor LaRocca. He makes a stock villain painfully comprehensible and overshadows the film's wan protagonist, Captain Dimorna played by John Derek. Their final sword fight looks like a total mismatch in LaRocca / Quinn's favor until he obligingly steps into Dimorna's blade. (In partial defense of Derek, I appreciated poster William Giesen's sympathetic review of Derek as a miscast character actor.)
The only other attraction derives from the story's origin in a Dumas novel I haven't read. The town has a statue of "The Count of Monte Cristo" with the late Count's sword in a glass case in the statue's plinth, which DiMorna brandishes in an effort to convince the townspeople that he has resumed the Count's battle on their behalf. Beyond that, the film may be interesting as a late specimen of the swashbuckling genre, threatened with extinction by the rise of television and the decay of the studio system.