Shane (1953, George Stevens)
For a few of these installments, I’ve decided to expand my selections to more than two. I have to get through all these somehow, and two at a time just isn’t cutting it. So, in this case, welcome to a special Westerns edition of “Films of the ‘50’s.”
Westerns, at one time, were incredibly popular. These days, even if you combine the western genre with another one, say science fiction, you can’t even get a show to last for half a season. Western novels used to take up entire sections of bookstores. Now, you’ll be lucky to find more than a few shelves, even if they’re all Louis L’Amour. The 50’s were probably the last bastion for the ‘white hat’ westerns, those stories where a squeaky-clean cowboy would protect the defenseless in the lawless west. The 60’s would bring both a new artistry and grittiness to the genre with the Sergio Leone Spaghetti Westerns. Soon after, the category seemed to practically disappear from the theaters. But, every once in a while, someone finds a new take, or a gripping story, and the ailing western is given a new breath of life, at least for a short time.
Shane is one of the most famous westerns of the innocent ‘white hat’ age. Out of all of these films I’ve seen, Shane is the only one in which the hero actually does show up in a white hat and suit (well, it’s sort of a cream color, but close enough). Alan Ladd plays Shane, a gunslinging drifter who chances upon a homesteading family fighting for their survival against a gang of land-grabbing toughs. Shane, the altruistic good-guy that we take him to be, offers his help, including one of the most homo-erotic scenes I’ve witnessed, involving the removal of an old tree stump. The community and family, especially their young boy, become attached to Shane. Already, even if you haven’t seen the film, you can predict what’s coming. After the big showdown, in which it remains unclear whether Shane’s injuries are critical or superficial, our white-hatted hero rides off into the sunset yet again, leaving the really creepy, beady eyed, big-headed young boy to call out to him, his needy voice echoing into the valley.
Despite its reputation and seemingly straightforward tale of bravery, I had a few problems with Shane. For one, that kid scares the hell out of me. Secondly, there is a scene in which Shane begins to teach the child in question how to use a gun. The boy’s mother, Marian, protests, saying she doesn’t want her child to live that kind of life. This prompts Shane to give her a speech, saying, “A gun is a tool, Marian; no better or no worse than any other tool: an axe, a shovel or anything. A gun is as good or as bad as the man using it. Remember that.” I know this is a standard defense for guns, and makes sense for the old west, yet it still bothers me. Not only do I believe the argument is complete bunk, but this supposed good guy is directly defying the wishes of the child’s mother, a child he has known for all of a few days.
There are a few things I did enjoy about Shane. In an uncharacteristic fashion to the more innocent days of westerns, Shane contains one of the longest, bloodiest, and most believable bar fights in the genre. The movie should also be remembered for the standout performance of Jack Palance, portraying the hired gun for the black hats. I also always enjoy the performances of Elisha Cook, Jr., a wide-eyed actor best known for playing the ‘gunsel’ in The Maltese Falcon.
Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1957, John Sturges)
I don’t know if there is any other western story as famous or as prevalent as the gunfight at the O.K. Corral. The tale of unlikely friends, Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday, proved that sometimes truth is stranger and more interesting than fiction. Yet, at the same time, it has inspired some pretty darn great fiction. One of the early standards was the simply titled, Gunfight at the O.K. Corral. Burt Lancaster and Kirk Douglas, in their second team-up that would eventually become legendary, are Earp and Holliday, respectively. Lancaster, who was known as all teeth and muscle, and Douglas, with a perfect mix of cockiness and panache, play off each other incredibly well, which is why it’s fairly easy to see how their partnership continued so successfully.
This movie was a real hodge-podge. It’s full of memorable lines and great performances, but devoid of much action, drags along from town to town in order to preserve the historical timeline, and has the goofiest theme song, which would be forgiven if it wasn’t interspersed throughout the film, acting as summary narration. Ultimately, the biggest drawback is somewhat an unfair one, having to do with the passage of time. I don’t know if Tombstone could be considered a remake, since it’s merely telling the same real-life story, but it’s difficult to look back on any other Earp story after it. Val Kilmer’s Doc Holliday is easily one of the most quotable and entertaining roles in westerns, or frankly any other film for that matter.
That’s not to say that Douglas’ performance is lacking. In fact, he has some great lines that certainly could have been inspiration for the 1993 version. For instance, “I do handle them [guns] pretty well. The only trouble is, those best able to testify to my aim aren’t around for comment.” Further, in comparison to Shane, Lancaster’s Earp has a more palatable message regarding guns, “I never knew a gunslinger yet so tough he lived to celebrate his 35th birthday. I learned one rule about gunslingers. There's always a man faster on the draw than you are, and the more you use a gun, the sooner you're gonna run into that man.”
There are two appearances to watch for in Gunfight, DeForest Kelley and Dennis Hopper. Kelly, best known for playing Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy in the original Star Trek series and films, plays Morgan Earp. Hopper, in a small but memorable performance, plays Billy Clanton, a youngster who feels trapped into being a gunslinger by his older brothers, a nice contrast to the Earp family sense of unity.
Rio Bravo (1959, Howard Hawks)
I mentioned Rio Bravo previously, in my capsule on High Noon. As I said before, Rio Bravo was made as John Wayne and Howard Hawks’ response to the Gary Cooper film, which they felt was unbelievable (and not in the good sense). So, instead of a Marshal who can’t find anyone in the town help fight the villains, western icon John Wayne finds a motley bunch of friends and strangers that band together in the same mission.
There’s the town drunk, Dean Martin in a pretty much typecast role, the rickety old jailer, also typecast with Walter Brennan, the young noncommittal drifter, played by Ricky Nelson, and the strong, beautiful, independent gambler, played by Angie Dickinson. On paper, this film could have been a huge mess. Hawks didn’t particularly want to cast Nelson, and the idea of singing cowboys was quickly becoming an outdated concept. Plus, remaking High Noon, a beloved film, was a risky proposition, even if they didn’t believe in its politics.
But, the movie succeeds on several levels. Rio Bravo is mostly carried by its co-stars, and nearly stolen by supporting characters, such as Pedro Gonzalez Gonzalez as the hotel owner, Carlos. Even the songs, including the memorable duet between Martin and Nelson, “My Rifle, My Pony, and Me,” stand out. It’s rumored that Quentin Tarantino shows Rio Bravo to his dates, and if the girl doesn’t like it, they never have another. I certainly didn’t feel that strongly about it, but there are very few westerns I can claim to love. In this day and age, after Silverado, Tombstone, and more recently, the hybrid show Firefly, and the ultra-gritty realism of Deadwood, it would be difficult for any of these movies to win me over.
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