#18 - A Knight's Tale

William Thatcher has always dreamed of being a knight.  After he wins his first tournament in place of his dead master, he decides, along with buddies Roland and Wat, to train and become a professional jouster.  He is soon joined by Kate, the blacksmith who forges his armor, and this guy named Geoff Chaucer who likes to write or something.  Of course, even with all of William's skills and determination, it won't be easy.  First there's the matter of his parentage.  Then there's his rival.  Oh, and then he falls in love.

So A Knight's Tale is pretty formulaic, and totally simplistic.  William is brave and honest and made of the pure essence of goodness.  Roland and Wat are goofy.  Kate is witty and defiant.  Jocelyn (the love interest) is beautiful and madly in love with William.  Adhemar (the rival) is pure evil.  I could have predicted the plot events of the movie blindfolded with one hand tied behind my back.  Director Brian Helgeland had a little bit of fun by introducing anachronisms - modern music, modern fashion, modern dancing, 21st century humor - which sometimes make sense within the framework of the film (mainly the use of Thin Lizzy's "The Boys are Back in Town"), but often fall completely flat.

So thank god for Paul Bettany.  I would watch this film again and again just to see his performance as Geoffrey Chaucer.  While the film does decide to mostly ignore Chaucer's reputation as a huge pervert and focus instead on him as an arrogant, brilliant, passionate artist, who is also plagued by a gambling problem, and maybe even, in Bettany's capable hands, has some kind of loneliness inside him that is gradually eroded by the company of William, Roland, Wat, and Kate.  There are also some incredible moments toward the end of the film where by sheer force of acting, the magic feels almost real.  So often, the difference between a good film and a bad film is the cast.  This usually goes in the direction of a great script being ruined by heavy-handed acting.  Thankfully, A Knight's Tale is the opposite - what would have been a silly, childish rehashing of a well-worn formula instead becomes, well, I wouldn't call it a work of art per se, but whatever it is, I like it.