“He did very well, the horse, I have to say.” Nice bloke, Martin Campbell. Too nice, his effusive praise for everyone who so much as set foot on set (or hoof, in the case of the stallion that played Toronado, Zorro’s trusty steed) ensuring the director’s commentary is more yawn than yak on his The Legend Of Zorro disc. The four featurettes are better, with the behind-the-scenes stuntwork especially striking, while a smattering of deleted scenes throw up the enticing coda of Zorro’s son inheriting the mask.
The movie is tolerable, as tardy sequels go – our masked avenger this time slicing his way through political intrigue, blackmail, terrorism and, er, marital blues, as Catherine Zeta-Jones’ Elena tires of keeping dinner warm while hubby’s out swishing it up. Adhering to the franchise formula, it offers more explosions, chases and crossed swords... but less wit, flair and sexual chemistry than its predecessor. Zzzzz.
