Showing posts with label Harry Carey Jr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harry Carey Jr. Show all posts

Sunday, 3 April 2011

Two Rode Together (1961)

TOGETHER...THEY RODE INTO A THOUSAND DANGERS!

John Ford's earlier film, The Searchers (1956), dug deep into the psyche of one man, Ethan Edwards' (John Wayne), obsessive and increasingly conflicted search for the niece stolen years before by native American tribespeople. This film moves the discussion on, unearthing wider social aspects of the issue. Can children or adults taken prisoner by native American tribes be successfully returned to "civilised" society? What if they don't want to be rescued? What problems will returnees face in reintegrating into society? Underlying these questions is the more basic issue of the nature of the immigrants' attitudes to native Americans. Consider cultural invasions by other groups of immigrants at other times and places in history, and the resultant subjugation and marginalisation of the indigenous peoples, and the nature of these attitudes is easy to predict. I read on Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Comanche) that just a decade or so previous to this story (1880s), the Commanches had agreed to move into a reservation on the government's promise to protect the buffalo herds, but the government had failed to keep up their end of the bargain, and at the time of this story, "the buffalo were on the verge of extinction, effectively ending the Comanche way of life as hunters".

The film opens rather leisurely, setting up the contrasting characters of the two leads, in many ways the personifications of private enterprise and state-sponsored aid in the USA, who ironically will contract to "ride together". James Stewart's elegantly attired US Marshal Guthrie McCabe, luxuriating in debauched affluence on 10% of the town's business, is shown to be driven by venal self-interest, and has to be tricked and coerced into acting on behalf of others. By contrast, Richard Widmark's standardly uniformed low paid US Army Lieutenant Jim Gary is the epitome of honourable selflessness.

The action shifts to a US Army fort on the edge of Indian territory where an encampment of hopeful parents and siblings awaits. Their view of Stewart as a saviour figure, the man most likely to be able to rescue long-lost family members due to his history of successful dealings with Commanche Chief Quanah Parker (Henry Brandon), contrasts ironically with his efforts to extract money from them. Without disclosing specific plot-spoilers, can I say that already there are pre-figurings of the torrent of ignorance and fear and revulsion, driven by demonisation of the unknown "other", that will later sweep through the immigrant encampment, blindly seeking retribution and revenge, and not drying up until the life of at least one person has been carried away.

I was somewhat bemused by the way, early on, the film dwelt on Stewart's hostility to the woman in his life, Belle Aragon (Annelle Hayes), until I realised that attitude to romantic partner in general, and matrimony in particular, was being used as a metaphor for degree of social commitment, with Stewart's antipathy contrasting with Widmark's willingness.

In the second reel, Stewart and Widmark enter Indian territory, and the realities of the captives' situations becomes apparent. Ford is known for his relatively even-handed attitude to native Americans, and his depiction of them in this film is of special interest. Overall, I would say, Ford paints a reasonably fair, if harsh, picture of Commanche culture and peoples. If anything, the Commanches emerge with greater honour than any other social group. Unlike some other directors of westerns, as I recall, Ford employed actual native Americans. In this film, however, Henry Brandon and Woody Strode, the actors playing the key native American roles, were not native American.

Again without revealing specific plot spoilers of a key scene, mention must be made of the masterful exposition during the film's final act of the kind of obstacles faced by ex-captives of the Commanches hindering their reintegration into society. The bottom line for the immigrants, it is revealed, is the conviction that confronted by a future as a "squaw", as the wife of a native American and all that entails, the only honourable option for a woman is to take her own life. And every look and twitch of body language thrown their way lets the survivors know that, in choosing life, they have become objects of shame and disgust.

There are two elements of the film that are not entirely successful. First, the use of whimsy. Ford has a habit of using whimsy, in interstitial scenes and in certain supporting characters. In this film, the estimable Andy Devine is the butt of various verbal and visual size-related jokes. Harry Carey Jr and his screen brother figure in some routines based on foolishness peripheral to the main themes. Ford is using whimsy like cheery neon signs designed to lure reluctant viewers into a jolly amusement arcade until they turn a corner and find themselves in the middle of somewhere much more dark and dangerous and interesting. The assumption that entertainment must always equal fun is false, insults the intelligence of the viewer, and so ends up being counter-productive.

Second, the casting. Linda Cristal, who will go on to co-star in the TV show Bonanza, is very good, as are most of the rest of the supporting cast, notably Annelle Hayes as Belle Aragon, John McIntire as Widmark's superior officer, and Henry Brandon and Woody Strode as the two key native Americans. Jeanette Nolan is terrific as the most notably distressed mother. Shirley Jones is all right but seemed a bit old for the part, as do both Widmark and Stewart, by as much as a couple of decades, a common fault to my mind with the old Hollywood studio system, with its stables of ageing stars.

Despite arguably excessive maturity, Widmark is entirely believable and likeable as the upright military officer, playing it naturalistic and low key, his character's integrity and honour never in question. When you consider the kind of extremely psychotic characters he played at the start of his film career (notably in Kiss of Death, 1947), this is quite a feat. For the role of McCabe, the epitome of self-interest, what's needed is someone likeable but unpredictable and with a dark side to him, someone with inner conflict, to keep the audience guessing as to the moral choices he will end up making. Stewart, surprisingly, given his brilliance in similar roles in films by Anthony Mann (e.g. The Naked Spur, 1953) somehow mainly fails to convince, possibly due to poor scripting, possibly due to lack of belief in the role, possibly due to poor technique. The trouble seems to be that, especially in certain key scenes in the first and second reels such as the scene where he demands payment for his services or the one where he gets drunk, where the film tries to establish the corruptness or wildness of his character, he plays the part much larger than is required, unconvincingly large. In the third reel, however, where his character has strong points to make, there is a return to form. Perhaps if Widmark and Stewart had switched roles, Widmark would have been more convincing as the corrupt jaded lawman that the audience hopes will prove to have a heart of gold.

While watching the first two thirds of the film, I thought it was a very below average Ford movie. However, given the strong final reel, and considering how well the film exposes anti-native American prejudice in the West, I like it enough to raise its ranking to high matinee / low full price (3.5/5).

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Amendments: Removed link to Wikipedia-sourced image. Added ranking image.



Sunday, 20 February 2011

The Rare Breed (1966)

This is a pretty entertaining film, with a good story, entertaining characters, and an interesting historical slant.

The premise is great: drop a couple of well-brought up English ladies and their well-cared for hornless Herefordshire bull into the harsh wilds of Texas, with its brutal survivalist ethos and its famously hardy longhorn cattle. Will the bull prove unfit for such a harsh environment and fail to breed? Will the English ladies be too delicate and have to escape back to England?

The women's need for funds forces them to sell the bull, and their concern for the longterm welfare of the bull provides sufficient motivation to take them to Texas. Along the way, the women experience pretty much the whole gamut of western tropes, from lusty barroom brawls to life-threatening cattle stampedes, ruthless armed robbery and the stench and squalor of an isolated cattle baron's accommodation.

The standout performances are those of the two female leads, Juliet Mills (daughter Hilary), and even more so, Maureen O'Hara (Martha). The latter is magnificent, dominating every scene.

The film introduces James Stewart's character, Sam Burnett, as an archetypal American male: tough and unafraid, quick to defend his friends with his fists, and literally taking bulls by their horns. From the outset, the plot endeavours to make Stewart's employer, rancher Taylor, unsympathetic, so as to bring us more on side when Stewart's character later contracts to cheat the man - a key plot point. However, I was distracted by the idea of Stewart wrestling a powerful longhorn bull to the ground, wondering if the filmmakers were seriously going to expect us to believe that a middle-aged man would be up for such athletics. As is often the case, James Stewart (here 58) is really too old for the role (you can clearly see the use of thicker-bodied stunt doubles in the action sequences) and too intelligent to play such a simple-minded cowboy (John Wayne, anyone?). I've seen a documentary that included modern "bull-grabbers", and they were all fit young men. Stewart's role is rather subdued for most of the story, only once or twice rising to the thrilling intensity of one of his conflicted characters in the Anthony Mann westerns. Arguably, Stewart does not play the lead but rather a supporting character, and it's really an O'Hara movie.

One strange character choice was to portray cattle rancher Bowen (Brian Keith), Stewart's rival for O'Hara's affections, for all the world like a traditional Scottish laird in a ranch-house styled like a dark high-ceilinged Scottish Highland castle, and first seen in squalor, filthy furs piled all around, tearing meat from the bone with his teeth, with the dogs allowed on the table, snatching meat from the master's platter. According to Wikipedia, the story is loosely based on the life of rancher William Burgess, so maybe this was true to life. In any case, the inclusion of the ex-Scot, Bowen, allows the film-makers to pit a Briton against Stewart's archetypal American in a struggle for O'Hara's affections.

The outdoor snow scenes feature some stunning photography, notably when Stewart's horse is trying to force its way through very deep snow drifts. But on the whole, this is not a very naturalistic film. There are some poorly realised overlay shots where the colour palettes of the foreground characters and background scenes jar. The women maintain a high degree of enhanced photogeneity throughout, and apart from Bowen, the men remain fairly presentable. The fight scenes are generally of the comic bar-room brawl style, where fists connect with jaws with impressive sound effects, nobody gets seriously hurt, and nobody is even asked to pay for the extensive damage!

So, all in all, worth catching, but without the intensity of interest of an Anthony Mann western.

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Amendments: Removed link to Wikipedia-sourced image. Added ranking image.