Although it has its amusing moments, in eneral the plot does not convince.

The performances transcend the film's tropes, grounding it in characters that feel more complete than this subgenre often produces.

One of the worst ways to make a cult movie is to set out to make a cult movie.

The story, direction, characters, and writing/dialogue is akin to taking a tranquilizer shot to the neck, but everything else was so well done.

1954's "The Black Knight" marked the coming out for Peter Cushing's screen career, his top villain Sir Palamides outshining Alan Ladd's miscast hero John, serving King Mark of Cornwall (Patrick Troughton) as they perform their pagan misdeeds disguised as Vikings in trying to overthrow King Arthur (Anthony Bushell) and Christianity. In just his second feature, Harry Andrews appears all too briefly as the Earl of Yeonil, but Andre Morell shines as Sir Ontzlake, who teaches John the skills he needs to win, but to wait until they can confirm the treachery of the sly Palamides (actors Bryan Forbes and Dennis O'Keefe are credited with 'additional dialogue'). Wearing earrings, hair carefully curled, bearing a faintly Arabian accent that makes each line a cherished treasure, the bearded Cushing is a menacing, awesome sight, his blue eyes accentuated by his dark skin, certainly a match for his idol Basil Rathbone in either "The Adventures of Robin Hood" or "The Mark of Zorro." For an actor who loved Westerns and derring do, this would remain a cherished role that Christopher Lee would get to play far more often. This was only the first of six times that Cushing would be paired with Andre Morell, most memorably as Holmes and Watson in 1958's "The Hound of the Baskervilles." Like Cushing a future Dr. Who, Patrick Troughton was so prolific on television that he rarely strayed from horror on screen, working again opposite his evil cohort in both "The Gorgon" and "Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell." Though best remembered as an actor (appearing with Boris Karloff in both "Five Star Final" and "The Ghoul"), Anthony Bushell later directed Christopher Lee in 1960's "The Terror of the Tongs" (previously appearing with Lee in 1957's "Bitter Victory").

This is one of those films which is so bad it is actually enjoyable.The film is presumably set in the 9th or 10th century.However we see Saracens,what on earth are they doing in England?The armour worn by the knights and the structure of the castles is clearly 15th and 16th century and the dresses worn by the women are from the medieval period.You don't see a lot of Alan Ladd as he always seems to have his helmet visor drawn over his face to enable the stunt man to take over for the more strenuous scenes.He is in many ways a sad shadow of his forties self on a very steep decline.Peter Cushing as a swarthy Scaracen easily steals the acting honours

In my opinion, the finest cinematic renditions of the Arthurian legends have all been revisionist in nature – Robert Bresson’s ascetic LANCELOT DU LAC (1974), the uproarious MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL (1974) and John Boorman’s visceral Excalibur (1981) – but, for an entire generation of youngsters during the 1950s and 1960s (that to which my father belongs to be exact), the idealized, heroic Hollywood version of Camelot, its sovereign and inhabitants was the only one there was. In fact, they were spoilt for choice when it comes to depictions of pageantry in those days with Mel Ferrer, Brian Aherne (twice) and Richard Harris being among those who assuming on film the role of King Arthur.In this modest, fairly routine but equally enjoyable British production, it is Anthony Bushell who gets to play the ruler of Camelot but the actor’s relative anonymity implies (correctly as it turns out) that his role in the narrative is merely a peripheral one. In fact, the leading man here is diminutive Hollywood star Alan Ladd: curiously cast as a taciturn English blacksmith with ideas above his station (generally directed towards aristocratic Patricia Medina), he is wrongly accused of both treason (by duplicitous Saracen knight Peter Cushing) and of cowardice (by Medina herself, after a Viking attack on her castle leaves her mother dead and father, played by Harry Andrews, half-crazed with grief)! However, with the help of a prescient knight (Andre' Morell) and after adopting the titular disguise, our commoner hero saves the day by routing the villains (who also include a dastardly Scottish royal – portrayed by yet another future Hammer horror stalwart Patrick Troughton, as well as Cushing’s laughing, would-be deaf-mute giant stooge), earning himself an official knighthood and, it goes without saying, Medina’s hand in marriage. Incidentally, the tale is set off by a ballad sung in a brief prologue by a minstrel (Elton Hayes) approaching a castle but, unexpectedly enough, rather than featuring in the upcoming narrative (as a singing squire or something), he quickly vanishes never to be seen or heard from again! Apart from the film’s unsurprising reliance on cliché, it also contains elements of camp (particularly a Pagan rite being performed at Stonehenge and the cumbersome insignias worn on their helmets by the various knights) and leads up to a curiously clumsy climax (with an ostensibly unnoticed Ladd conspicuously overhearing the scheming Troughton and Cushing from a secret passage leading right behind the former’s throne; Ladd seemingly taken aback by the aforementioned giant falling to his death in spite of himself from the castle rooftop, not to mention Cushing apparently tripping in his own armor when turning up for the final showdown with the hero)! Actually, this only increases the film’s fun factor and, over fifty years later, one can still understand how this stuff was eagerly lapped up by thrill-seeking schoolboys during their weekly matinees. Incidentally, given Cushing’s reputation as a horror star, it may come as a surprise to some that he appeared in numerous costumers over the years – including THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK (1939), Alexander THE GREAT (1956), JOHN PAUL JONES (1959), SWORD OF SHERWOOD FOREST (1960), THE HELLFIRE CLUB (1961), FURY AT SMUGGLER’S BAY (1961), CAPTAIN CLEGG (1963) and SWORD OF THE VALIANT (1984)! For what it’s worth, the screenplay involves some notable names – Alec Coppel, future director Bryan Forbes and film noir star Dennis O’Keefe(!) – and its plot of King Arthur vs. The Vikings would come in handy once more that same year in the equally inauthentic but even more popular PRINCE VALIANT. Other distinguished crew members include composer John Addison, cinematographer John Wilcox, art director Vetchinsky and producers Irving Allen and Albert R. Broccoli(!) – this was actually the latter’s third and last picture with Ladd following THE RED BERET (1953) and HELL BELOW ZERO (1954). By the way, THE BLACK KNIGHT itself eventually got remade by Nathan Juran as SIEGE OF THE SAXONS (1963)!

I agree with other posters that Black Knight would prove generally harmless and generically virtuous for home-schooled kids and their retro ilk. For grown-ups who were children in the era when the film was made, Black Knight offers a range of minor pleasures. The most universally appealing quality may be the color processing and the castles' airy-pastel set design (best when John visits his future father-in-law at the latter's castle, sacked by Vikings). Plus the cathedral and banquets bankrolled by Arthur show a surprising lavishness in production values.Beyond those visuals, most of the film's aesthetics are campy or eery. Alan Ladd gets my benefit of the doubt as a haunting screen presence, but as other posters comment, his casting as a swashbuckler exposes his limits. His stunt-double seems to have more screen time than Ladd himself--much of the time the Black Knight fights with his visor down.An over-the-top bonus reason to see the film is the Stonehenge scene. Set right after the all-boy cathedral scene, this 50s romp begs for an analyst's couch. Nubile babes in lingerie writhe around phallic stones while horned Vikes look complacently on. Let's sacrifice the brunette heroine Livey to Stonehenge's sun god! But said god insists that sacrificial chicks must be blonde, so an on-site witch pulls a wig from a skull at Stonehenge's gift shop. Uh, what might our sun god think of this deception. As a finale to this hectic scene, Stonehenge is pulled to the ground, raising questions how it came down to us upright, but the film's quickly over after that.The eery element is Cushing's Palimedes as a medieval Osama bin Laden. Those salaams he performs at every leave-taking are a reminder even George W. Bush might cop to: this evildoer sure does act like a Muslim! Just goes to show how history--from the actual Middle Ages to our Hollywood adaptations--conditions such images and our reactions.