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Streaming Shuffle

The Man in the Iron Mask

The James Whale secret sauce.

I’m filling up my summer viewing with swashbucklers, because on a hot day, there’s nothing quite like breezy adventures full of banter and swordplay. 1939’s The Man in the Iron Mask provides that and more.

King Louis XIII fathers twin heirs, and to nip the obvious civil war potential in the bud, he keeps the second-born, Philippe, a secret, entrusting him to the ever-faithful d’Artagnan (Warren William), who—aided by his fellow musketeers—gives the boy an idyllic upbringing in the countryside and raise him into a fine young man.

But Louis XIV (Louis Hayward), gaining command of an entire country as a child, is petulant, self-indulgent, and cruel. When his heavy-handed taxes, all on necessities or the simplest of pleasures, stir up resistance from our mostly-retired musketeers, Louis finally meets his mysterious double (Hayward again)—and when he can no longer treat him as a shiny novelty exclusively his to toy with, he condemns Philippe to the Bastille to rule over a mockery of a one-room “kingdom,” crowned with an iron mask meant to obscure his identity forever.

A lot of double-role movies hinge on the lead’s dual performance. Hayward is completely solid, and he handles the split well: his Philippe has a likable freshness, and his sincerity and decency don’t erode his sense of fun; his Louis is frightening in an all-too-grounded way, a spoiled edgelord youth whose power allows him to pull the life from men as well as the wings off flies. But this is all a well-executed version of what you would expect, more or less, instead of enough to make the film into the classic it is.

The Man in the Iron Mask also dutifully finishes off the legend of our favorite musketeers, complete with a glimpse of them all in heaven1, but its handling of all musketeer-related material is, while not bad, fairly cursory. They mostly exist to explain, motivate, and rescue Philippe.

If this were all the movie had to offer, it would still be a fine exemplar of the genre that I liked very much, but where it becomes special is simple: James Whale.

I tend to associate Whale with Gothics like Frankenstein, Bride of Frankenstein, and The Invisible Man; he puts his tongue in his cheek with The Old Dark House, sure, but it’s still striking and effective when it’s in eerie mode. And as light and fleet as The Man in the Iron Mask can be, Whale knows exactly how and when to turn it into a horror movie. Philippe’s almost animal-like agony in the mask is unforgettable, especially when he sits in the faux-throne and grasps helplessly at a “face” he can no longer feel. (It’s some of Hayward’s finest physical acting, too: you can see the rigidity of Philippe trying in vain to keep himself under control.) It’s as claustrophobic a scene as anyone has ever filmed, tight on a man trapped with his own breath propelled back against him, the shot drowning in black as if he’s boxed in by darkness.

Whale’s Frankenstein films had already made him an expert in conveying the humanity of creatures with distorted faces, and he makes a similarly sympathetic “monster” of the imprisoned Philippe. The mask is designed in a few bold, vivid strokes, choosing a cartoon-like smoothness and simplicity of expression over the 1998 version’s more closely molded piece. Leonardo DiCaprio got visible lips and eyes; Hayward has nothing but narrow black slits. He’s not the one who can say, “I wear the mask; it does not wear me.” Whale lets him wear it and become it, even if only for a stretch of days.

DiCaprio’s Philippe spends six years in the mask, but after a few weeks with the musketeers, I feel like he’ll be fine, give or take some social awkwardness. As bright and hopeful an ending as Whale gives us, I still end up worried about Hayward’s Philippe. Maybe get this guy someone to talk to.

The Man in the Iron Mask is streaming on Kanopy and Tubi.

  1. Controversially, given some ambiguity about this at the end of Dumas’s work. ↩︎