King Arthur (2004)

Plot: Lancelot (Ioan Gruffudd) is one of the Sarmatian knights, world-renowned for their riding skills. He, and the six others still alive, have been waiting 15 long years to be released from their post in Britain to return to their homeland. Their leader, a half-Roman, half-Briton, Arthur (Clive Owen) discovers that their freedom has an additional price: they must rescue a Roman citizen and his family far in the North from the incoming Saxon invasion. While they are there, they discover a beautiful young Briton girl, Guinevere (Keira Knightley), whom the Roman was holding captive, among others.

Alright, in terms of plot summary, I feel like that’s the best I can do.

Caution: Spoilers Ahead!

As you know, I was really excited about seeing this movie. I knew, like Troy, that this was supposed to be a demystified version. I also knew that Arthur and Merlin (Stephen Dillane) were going to be enemies rather than mentor and protege. I was prepared for all of that.

I was not, however, prepared for what a horrible movie this was! I don’t think I could have been more disappointed. I kept waking up last night and saying to myself, “That movie SUCKED!” or “I can’t believe they killed him.” So, yeah, someone dies.

And I know exactly what the problem was – it was the most self-serious movie I have seen since I don’t know when.

Pop Quiz: What have I always said was the one irredeemable factor in what makes up a movie? What, if this was not top notch, would mean the movie would fail no matter how good the other things are?

Answer: Script. Screenplay, plotline, whatever you want to call it. If it’s not there, no matter how awesome everything else is, it just doesn’t happen.

Which is the part I don’t get. This movie is so well bred. It combines the stellar director of Training Day, Antoine Fuqua, the amazing writer of Gladiator, David Franzoni, and two of Britain’s premiere actors (Owen and Gruffudd).

Fuqua did an amazing job. He brought us all the grit and power of Training Day, but this time he had a greater focus on detail. I really don’t think I could ask for more from him.

The casting, I’m not at all kidding, was nothing short of impressive. Gruffudd captured all of Lancelot’s fire, understanding that it was not ego that drove him but sorrow. Owen gave Arthur his depth and filled him with the tension of a man without a real home. Even though their characterizations were a very different, I enjoyed Ray Winstone as Bors, Ray Stevenson as Dagonet, Joel Edgerton as Gawaine, Hugh Dancy as Galahad, and Mads Mikkelsen as Tristan.

And there was good swordplay and equestrian things going on. Owen had never ridden a horse before, and he did quite well. I didn’t entirely understand why Lancelot had to carry three swords, but cool things were happening there as well.

But I cannot comprehend what Franzoni was thinking. What a betrayal this movie was. I came to the point where if he made one more Shakespearean allusion, I was going to slit my throat. I’ve got news for you, buddy, you aren’t the Bard.

Your self-important, conceited and over-the-top screenplay took away your chance, and everyone else’s, at doing something great, something powerful, something real. You messed about the characters, giving Guinevere’s characteristics to Lancelot and vice versa. Then you deprived me of my all important love-triangle. Yet another writer misses the opportunity that I clearly see; Guinevere has the potential to be one of the greatest tragic heroines of all time, but no one will embrace that challenge.

So don’t waste your money seeing this movie. Guinevere is not a warrior princess, and you do not need to see her none existent boobies this much. Of course, if you are me, there was this moment between Owen and Gruffudd that almost made it worthwhile.

Almost.