The plot of . . . “When Knights Were Bold,” is more or less original as modern comedies go. It circles round the love affair of a man and a maid. In the first act, a very twentieth century one, the hero, despite the pronounced encouragement of the heroine, fails to screw up his courage to the proposing point. When alone he can declare his love manfully enough, but in the maid’s presence he becomes as shy as an early Victorian school miss. As the curtain falls, he writes himself down as an ass, takes a big drink, smokes a cigarette, and—dreams.

Act II represents the dream. It is the medieval age—the age of chivalry, of bold, bad barons and gallant knights. An ancestor of the hero is one of these latter. His love story is depicted vividly. There is nothing lackadaisical about the lovemaking. The bold knight finally seizes the maiden in his arms and carries her off bodily to the altar in the face of strenuous opposition.

In act III the twentieth century again appears. There hero wakes up and follows, so far as modernity will let him, the example of his ancestory shown him in the second act.

— San Francisco Call, 14 December 1906

. . . we thought [Kenilworth Castle] might account for the cold in the head which was the cause of Sir Guy’s tribulations [possibly his dream or trip to the past]. . . . The story of the play has been followed closely, and the humour of its situations and much of its dialogue skilfully preserved, while the more spacious setting provides opportunities for many effective scenes which add greatly to its interest.

We have sparse information about this silent film apart from a note in Alan Goble’s The Complete Index to Literary Sources in Film, which lists the 1907 [sic] play When Knights Were Bold as the source of the 1180-meter film, directed by Oreste Visalli, released by Aquila Film, and featuring Jeanne Nolly, Giulio Del Torre, and Claudia Zambuto.

This is a very free adaptation of the merry farce in which James Welch made so great a success, and with the greater scope of the screen, with some characters omitted and new ones introduced, there remains little beyond the main idea to make any comparison with the original more than a matter of antiquarian history. As, however, the majority of modern picture audiences will never have seen the original play, the film will be judged on its own merits, and there is little doubt that its fantasy and quaint humour will recommend it to popular favour.

— The Bioscope, 6 February 1929

In this first talkie adaptation of the 1906 play, Sir Guy sings a song about his love Lady Rowena and immediately falls asleep, only to appear in the Age of Chivalry, where he tap dances (still attired in his 20th century tuxedo) and is now beguiled by Rowena of days gone by.