The Black Pirate

A silent film adventure in gala surroundings

The Hippodrome in Bo'ness is one of the most splendid venues for film in the land (let's say Empire). It is a pearl, its facade of elegant curves topped by a glowing red sign, and festooned today with a red carpet and bunting. I was also greeted by 'God Save the King' bunting, free rum and enthusiastic staff. The occasion was the closing night of the second annual Festival of Silent Cinema, capping an inspired programme shown over the weekend. The venue and the festival make such a heartening combination and I was won over instantly.

Douglas Fairbanks awaits within.

After many years of decay and dereliction following its closure in 1980, the Hippodrome has been fully restored, housing a smiling horseshoe auditorium complete with balcony and stage. It is also celebrating its centenary this year – Scotland's oldest cinema, built in the post-Edwardian, pre-Art Deco industry of 1912 Bo'ness. The brainchild of local man Louis Dickson, who produced 'topicals' and wanted to exhibit them, the building was designed by Matthew Steele.

Sadly, I missed the Festival of Silent Cinema apart from this final gala event. The evening was great fun, perfectly pitched between professional presentation and local spirit by festival director Alison Strauss and producer Shona Thomson. Speeches and presentations preceded a screening of beguiling hundred-year-old footage from the Scottish Screen Archive, depicting herring fishing at Yarmouth.

The main event was The Black Pirate, starring and produced by Douglas Fairbanks, Sr (with inventive live musical accompaniment from Jane Gardner and Hazel Morrison). This 1926 adventure was made at the height of Fairbanks' swashbuckling career, showing him off at his acrobatic and heroic best. Showing him off, in fact, in exciting two-strip Technicolor; The Black Pirate was one of the very first all-colour feature films. It was a treat to see Park Circus' restoration of this film, in its charming pinkish glow. Difficult to produce and project, Technicolor was an expensive process, and it is a measure of Fairbanks' status in 1920s Hollywood that he was able to invest so much in his film.

To swashbuckle.

He is undoubtedly the sole star of The Black Pirate. Although there is the requisite comic relief, docile romance and swarthy villainy, it all pales beside Fairbanks. He leaps fearlessly about the ship, displaying trademark athleticism which had already coursed through films such as The Mask of Zorro and The Thief of Bagdad. Cutting rigging to soar to the masthead, scaling down sails by means of his sword: these are clichés of the cinematic pirate, quoted and parodied so many times. It is refreshing to see the real deal, saving the day with grins and musculature (amusingly dressed in black shorts and little else).

Orson Welles saw in Fairbanks “a kind of charm, a kind of dash, a sort of innocent arrogance that has never been since on the screen”. I was fascinated to see this legend in action for the first time. To be able to do so in the setting of the Bo'ness Hippodrome was rather special, and an adventure.