The Return of the Scarlet Pimpernel is misnamed: there's no Scarlet Pimpernel here. Oh, sure, there's a character that's supposed to be the old Pimpernel, and people refer to him as such and act as if he were the ultra-swashbuckler that we all know and love. But trust me, calling a person Pimpernel does not make him so. To put it more simply, Barry Barnes is no Leslie Howard. He's a particularly drab man to take up the mantel of this most dashing of heroes, and having a hole this large at the center of the film is a huge detriment. (He is rather better at playing the foppish aspect of the character, but that accounts for only a small portion of of his role). Matters are not helped by Sophie Stewart's bland portrayal of his love interest. Francis Lister at least turns in an enjoyably hammy performance, which is fun, but only James Mason, in a small role, really manages to shine. The screenplay is also quite a hodgepodge, and one of those affairs that depends upon the main character behaving quite foolishly. Fortunately, director Hans Schwartz keeps things moving at a lively clip. Even more fortunately, producer Alexander Korda provided a beautiful physical production, which helps mightily.