As a spiritual sequel to the tremendous success of The Flame And The Arrow (1950) Burt Lancaster made The Crimson Pirate (1952). Robert Siodmak directs the film, re-teaming with Lancaster after the critical sensation The Killers (1946) solidified Lancaster’s move star status. The move towards swashbuckling adventure pictures was implemented by Lancaster as a means of distancing himself from the “tough guy” personas that, ironically, The Killers helped to establish. In The Crimson Pirate it’s big toothy grin Burt on display, having a blast showcasing his acrobatic talents with lifelong friend Nick Cravat.
Apparently The Crimson Pirate was originally scripted as a serious picture. Siodmak himself decided to change the film into an adventure comedy where Lancaster can parody his earlier The Flame And The Arrow as well as the genre as a whole. Though one is most likely to associate Siodmak with his film noir output, he was equally adept at adventure films, especially ones set in exotic locales. The Cobra Woman (1944), one of the great progenitors of the camp aesthetic, is an excellent example of the light touch Siodmak brings to these types of pictures. Siodmak, perhaps realizing the preposterous nature of the plot, focuses on broad characterizations and plenty of action packed spectacles. The Crimson Pirate boasts a bigger budget, bigger names, and more chances to quietly subvert the genre than The Cobra Woman; all of which must have appealed too Siodmak. His camera makes the most of Lancaster’s famous grin, leans into the sight gags with the upside down row boats, and makes a point to accentuate Eva Bartok’s beauty even when it contradicts the circumstance of the narrative. In The Crimson Pirate one sees a master filmmaker cutting loose and having fun with the form.
Burt Lancaster is, however, what really holds The Crimson Pirate together. As pirate Captain Vallo, Lancaster gets to play everyone of his strengths from scene to scene. There’s plenty of the tender lover in Lancaster’s scenes with Bartok, there are a number of scenes where Lancaster performs his own stunts and routines, and all throughout he gets to be big, bold and manly in true Elmer Gantry (1960) fashion. In terms of personality and physique Burt Lancaster was larger than life and he dominates the screen in The Crimson Pirate as he rarely ever did. From the minute Lancaster barks into the camera “Gather round laddies, gather round” it is his film and you know you’re just along for the ride.
Growing up I’d watch The Crimson Pirate at least once a week. It’s become comfort food. Still, I would objectively recommend this picture to anyone who has ever enjoyed an Errol Flynn picture or has an interest in classic Hollywood movies. Not to mention that The Crimson Pirate also features Lancaster in drag and a young, debonair Christopher Lee. There’s literally more joy in just a few frames of The Crimson Pirate than there is in all of the films Disney ever made combined.
