With a sly twinkle in his eyes, Antonio Banderas once again dons the black mask and mounts his trusty steed to fight evildoers in The Legend of Zorro, a disappointing sequel to 1998's The Mask of Zorro. Whereas that film was a rousing, grandly old-fashioned swashbuckler in the cheeky tradition of Errol Flynn's classic adventures, this action-packed follow-up is closer in spirit to Spy Kids. Banderas and Catherine Zeta Jones still sizzle as the crime-fighter and his equally fearless wife, but their playful banter takes a back seat to the convoluted narrative, an unwieldy amalgam of swordplay, tiresome family drama, and The Da Vinci Code-style intrigue.
Written by Roberto Orci & Alex Kurtzman, scribes on TV's Alias (which explains the film's Byzantine plot), The Legend of Zorro takes place in 1850, 10 years after the events of the first film. If all goes as planned, the territory of California will soon join the union as the 31st state. However, there are some who violently oppose statehood, like ruthless, scarred robber baron McGivens (Nick Chinlund) and his posse. Fortunately, McGivens and his gun-toting thugs are no match for Zorro, who handily stops them from hijacking the vote. But while the good people of California worship Zorro for his acrobatic heroics on their behalf, the masked crime fighter, a.k.a. Don Alejandro de la Vega, receives a chilly welcome from his wife, Elena (Zeta Jones). Frustrated by his frequent absences, she gives him an ultimatum: either hang up the mask or leave.
Cut to three months later. Elena has served Alejandro with divorce papers. Although he still sees his mischievous 10-year-old son Joaquin (Adrian Alonso) regularly, Alejandro is heartsick over the loss of his family. To make matters worse, Elena appears to have taken up with an old school chum, fabulously wealthy French aristocrat Armand (Rufus Sewell). Seething with jealousy, Alejandro nonetheless still has much to do as Zorro. McGivens and his posse are using brute force to take land from the peasants. And something sinister is definitely afoot at the lavish estate of Armand, who's formed an unholy alliance with McGivens. Unless Zorro can stop them, they'll wreak untold havoc on a national scale. But Zorro won't do it alonehis estranged wife and son will jump into the fray.
By adding a pint-sized "Zorro Jr." to the narrative, director Martin Campbell and his creative team clearly hope to attract the family crowd. Yet in giving the obnoxious Joaquin such a prominent role in the narrative, the filmmakers turn The Legend of Zorro into a jokey, kid-friendly romp lacking the sweep and excitement of its predecessor. There's still fun to be had, albeit intermittently, in the fairly well-staged action sequences and the witty sparkle Banderas and Zeta Jones bring to their roles as the on-again, off-again couple. They're obviously enjoying themselves, and the film benefits greatly from their megawatt charisma (they have the elusive "it" factor in spades). Their potent chemistry is one of the bright spots in an otherwise labored narrative that drags when it should be fleet of foot, like the title character.
Filmed on location in Mexico, The Legend of Zorro is a decent if uninspired sequel that will probably appeal more to kids than fans of either the first film, or the classic The Mark of Zorro (1940), starring Tyrone Power.
TIM KNIGHT