STAGECOACH - The BFI Classics book

 

This 95-page appraisal of the classic 1939 John Wayne/John Ford film (published in 1992) is written by Edward Buscombe, who is also the editor of The BFI Companion to the Western.

Seven of producer Walter Wanger’s pictures for United Artists hadn’t made a profit. So Wanger was told to rein back his budgets. Ford’s project to film ‘Stage to Lordsburg’ appealed: ‘a talented, tested and prestigious director, relatively unknown and therefore inexpensive stars and a type of story which, even if Westerns were not fashionable, was nevertheless of proven appeal.’ (p17).

The filming lasted about two months. But due to Wanger’s financial situation, UA wouldn’t agree to filming in colour, which was a great shame, considering the spectacular vistas presented by Monument Valley. At that time colour added about 30% to production costs. The film came in under budget, costing about $531,000. The salaries of some of the picture’s stars were Claire Trevor, $15,000; Andy Devine, $10,000; Thomas Mitchell, $12,000 (and he won an Oscar for the part too!); John Wayne, $3,700, considerably less than four other travellers in the stagecoach! (p18)

Essentially there are two narrative strands to the plot: first, a journey through dangerous terrain, echoing The Odyssey; second, revenge, which is as ancient as the Greek myth. The latter is ‘driven by the hero’s sense of personal honour, an inner compulsion rather than an external threat.’ (p25) And the theme emphasises that good prevails over evil.

One of the reasons for the film being a classic is the canny juxtaposition of the nine travellers in the stagecoach, and how they rub against each other, revealing their characters. The driver Buck, the whiskey drummer, Peacock, meek in character and temperament (played by Donald Meek), the Southern gambler Hatfield who is not quite the gentleman he likes to think he is, the disdainful and felonious banker Gatewood who is anxious to abscond, the wan wilting flower of womanhood, Lucy, keen to join her cavalry officer husband, well-oiled Doc Boone, evicted from the town for drunkenness and not paying his rent, escaped jailbird Ringo Kid, joining the coach a short way outside town, shotgun rider Sheriff Wilcox (who promptly arrests Ringo), and Dallas (who ‘is never actually named as a prostitute, but only the young and innocent Ringo does not instantly recognise her profession’[p37]).  

Between the lines, Ford reveals that ‘respectability and morality are very far from being the same thing.’ (p37)

Needless to say, screenwriter Dudley Nichols had to considerably enlarge upon the original short story. Lucy, the army wife, is not pregnant in the story; Nichols’s injection of her gravid state and the subsequent birth seem ‘expressly designed to give the film appeal to a more mixed audience.’ (p54)

Due recognition is also given to stuntman Yakima Canutt: ‘his contribution to the film was considerable,’ with examples. (p67)

Interestingly, Orson Welles confessed he learned to be a director by watching John Ford’s films: ‘John Ford was my teacher. My own style has nothing to do with his, but Stagecoach was my movie text-book. I ran it over forty times.’ (p58)

The book concludes with details about the press releases, the film’s overwhelmingly positive reception, and John Ford’s subsequent career and status. Throughout, the pages are interspersed with black-and-white stills.

An excellent insight into a piece of cinematic history.

There are many other BFI Classic books available; check them out on Amazon – search for ‘BFI Classics’

 

* BFI = British Film Institute

Duke it out

He learned to ride as a boy and in his early and mid-career, he was obviously expert. At an early age—while his father cleared the land, he was expected to follow, ready with a rifle to shoot any rabbits or rattlesnakes that came into view. His family moved to a community of farms and ranches, where he continued to lead an outdoor life.

In high school, he was an honour student, class president, sportswriter on the student paper, president of the Latin society, member of the drama club, and orator in the Southern California Shakespeare contest, among numerous other scholastic activities. He was also a skilled chess and bridge player. These youthful achievements are all the more impressive when one realizes that he accomplished them between delivering newspapers before school and working at a part-time job after school. He might have been successful in higher education, perhaps becoming a lawyer, if he hadn't been exceedingly fond of athletics, alcohol, and the movies.

After a football scholarship allowed him to attend the University of Southern California, a torn shoulder interfered with his game so much that he eventually lost the scholarship. Simultaneously, his love of alcohol distracted him from his studies.

Dropping out of college, in search of a way to earn a living, he gravitated toward film sets as he had when he was a boy watching westerns being made in the countryside near his home. Movies weren't merely entertainment for him. They were an escape from reality. Like many obsessively ambitious people, he was haunted by harsh memories of severe poverty and constant arguments between his parents. To escape from his depressing home life, he went to the movies as often as he could, four and five times a week. Playing with other children, he pretended that he was in a movie, as star, director, and writer.

 

 

The above is a mildly tampered-with minor extract from a moving appreciation: John Wayne - The Westerns by David Morrell, which I recommend. The quotes below are also taken from the short book, or rather lengthy essay.

Wayne’s birthday is May 26. He was born in 1907.

He didn’t start out as a film star. He worked hard at his apprenticeship. Throughout the thirties he made 56 formula pictures, ‘acquiring the elements that would combine to produce the persona of John Wayne.’ With his stuntman friend Yakima Canutt he developed the fistfight technique subsequently seen in movies, creating realistic punches thanks to the canny camera position; when they duke it out, it appears as if the fist connects....

As Morrell states, ‘he doesn’t act as much as he reacts. He lets his eyes communicate as much as his dialogue…’ Michael Caine’s acting master-class was all about the eyes, too.

He was a big man, and a determined one. That determination saw him ride out many setbacks that would have floored lesser individuals. When his long-time studio Republic refused to finance The Alamo, Wayne ‘angrily severed relations with it. He raised the money on his own and … elicited good performances from Lawrence Harvey as Colonel Travis and Richard Widmark as Jim Bowie. Wayne’s control of the ambitious production would have been a credit to an experienced director, let alone to a novice.’

In 1964 he was diagnosed with lung cancer. He announced that surgeons removed his left lung so that other people might seek regular check-ups; he didn’t mention that he also lost four ribs. He made 19 films after that, among them El Dorado, True Grit, The Undefeated, Chisum, Rio Lobo, The Cowboys, McQ, Rooster Cogburn, and The Shootist; during the latter he required oxygen between takes.

He died three years after The Shootist, in 1979, aged 72. ‘Given his excessive smoking and drinking as well as his cholesterol-thick diet (all of those steak-and-eggs breakfasts), it’s a wonder that he survived as long as he did.’

Morrell believes what epitomised Wayne was a ‘sense of integrity, hard work, and self-reliance, a belief in fighting for the values that one holds dear, a willingness to help, a refusal to be pushed, a readiness to take a stand, a championship of the individual in tandem with the understanding that we are all in this together.’ John Wayne was a complex individual, not simply the reactionary espouser of right-wing gun-toting politics portrayed by his detractors. 

On Wayne’s grave can be found his own words:

 

‘Tomorrow is the most important thing in life.

Comes into us at midnight very clean.

It’s perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands.

It hopes we’ve learned something from yesterday.’

 

***

 

http://johnwaynebirthplace.museum/birthday/

***

David Morrell is a best known for his debut 1972 novel First Blood. He has written 28 novels.

FFB - 'The Searchers'

Surprisingly, until recently, this book was been out of print for decades. It was worth the wait. I wrote a 'Book of the Film' review in an earlier blog (March 10, 2009).

Now, the book has a new cover and additional introductory text.

The author Alan LeMay is an excellent storyteller, building his characters with deft touches.  He employs what is now regarded as the old-fashioned style, the omniscient point of view so we get inside the feelings of more than one character within a particular scene; it works because he never loses control.

Latest version available on Amazon

Interestingly, the John Wayne character Ethan Edwards is called Amos in the book, and is not the lead. The story is told mainly through the eyes of orphan Martin Pauley, whose father was called Ethan. Surprisingly, perhaps, the film stayed true to the story even though Wayne dominates.

Inevitably, there are grim scenes in the book, but no gratuitous gore. There’s humour too. Amos says he had no book learning. ‘To us, grammar is nothing but grampaw’s wife.’ The old ones are the best. And later, the observation is made about tequila that ‘There is a great independence, and a confident immunity to risk, in all drinks made out of cactus.’

Possibly some people haven’t seen the film. Put simply, the book concerns the Edwards family who are massacred by a Comanche raiding party; the two young daughters are abducted. Amos and Martin set out on a quest to rescue the girls and also avenge the deaths of Amos’s brother and sister-in-law, the woman he loved and lost. They track the Indians until the snows obliterate all trace. Finally, when the snows have gone, Amos and Martin resume their search, persisting for over five years. And all this time Martin fears that Amos is intent on killing his nieces because they were bound to be ‘spoiled’. The book’s ending only slightly differs from the film; both versions are moving and memorable.

My copy of the book

The striking cover (my copy of the book) is not merely a colourful generic image – the silhouette of the tree is significant to Martin’s recurring nightmares.

As a bonus, the book has a special introduction by Andrew J Fenady, who wrote several Wayne westerns and was the actor’s pal; as he says, ‘No man was more a part of the American landscape… He was a man to match the mountains.’ The new version also has a lengthy article ‘The making of The Searchers by Harry Carey Jr.’

Justifiably, a modern classic western.

 

Death of the Western - refer to Mark Twain

Another blog of interest is Matthew Pizzolato's The Western Wordslinger:
http://thewesternwordslinger.blogspot.com.es/2013/08/the-immortality-of-western.html?showComment=1377868793325#c7043973051970953958

His latest blog echoes my introduction in Write a Western in 30 Days. (The reference of course is to Mark Twain declaring that 'The report of my death was an exaggeration'.) Word about the 'flop' The Lone Ranger killing off the western is ludicrous; you mean there've never been any spy/detective/sci-fi/fantasy movies that didn't do well at the box office? Well, I never!

Here's the beginning of Matthew's blog:

Every few years or so, rumors start up again about the supposed "death" of the Western.  It seems to go on a cycle and if the rumors are to be believed, then the Western has died a thousand times. 

Yet, the genre is still around and going strong today. Granted, it is not nearly as popular as it was during the Fifties and Sixties, but it is a long way from being dead.

Iconic Western actor John Wayne believed in the durability of the genre. 

 "Don't ever for a minute make the mistake of looking down your nose at Westerns. They're art–the good ones, I mean.  They deal in life and sudden death and primitive struggle, and with the basic emotions–love, hate, and anger–thrown in.  We'll have Western films as long as the cameras keep turning. The fascination that the Old West has will never die."

The Quiet Man

TJ Miles is a member of the Torrevieja Writers Circle who wields a good observational and often humorous pen is also a successful artist, holding exhibitions in many countries. TJ' favourite film is John Wayne's The Quiet Man and his homage is a series of original paintings from that film. The exhibition was at the end of August in Dublin, but you can see the artwork online here:
http://www.the-quiet-man.net/49102938

Book of the film: Hondo

‘A man ought to do what he thinks is best.’ – Hondo Lane.

‘Hondo Lane was a big man… with the lean hard-boned face of the desert rider… His toughness was ingrained and deep, without cruelty, yet quick, hard and dangerous. Whatever wells of gentleness might lie within him were guarded and deep.’

Hondo and his trusty dog Sam are being stalked by two Apache warriors. He chooses the time and place for the showdown. This action-filled beginning is dropped from the film. Shortly afterwards, deprived of his horse, he wanders into a deep fertile basin and a lonely small ranch. This is where the film opens – and it works. Hondo meets up with Mrs Angie Lowe and her young son Johnny, both struggling to keep the ranch going in the absence of any man. Hondo befriends them and helps out. He warns them that Vittoro is on the warpath but Angie says they’ll be fine, they got along with the Apache. Hondo was half-Apache so understood; he borrowed one of Angie’s horses and left for the fort with despatches. It was a sad leavetaking because there was strong affection between them.

There is the complication of Angie’s husband and in the film this sticks closely to the book. L’Amour also wrote several pages about the Cavalry Company C, the lead up to their massacre; this was neatly discarded in the film script, Hondo simply pulling from his saddlebags the Company’s flag which he took off the Indian braves he killed (before the film began!)

Additional complications arise when Vittoro turns up wanting to adopt young Johnny as his son. He also declares that Angie must take a wife – an Apache brave. She has till the planting rains come to decide which warrior she would accept…

How the drama is played out between the pioneer woman, the gunman and the Apache warrior makes for tense reading. This is such a good yarn that it’s quite humbling to note that it was L’Amour’s first novel, published in 1953. He went on to produce over 120 books with sales in the 300 million range. The film, starring John Wayne and Geraldine Page (making her film debut), was made in the same year. Other actors included Wayne’s pal, Ward Bond and pre-Gunsmoke James Arness. Hondo’s dog Sam was played by Lassie!

Hondo has great characterisation, powerful visuals of the stark Arizona land and moments of understated tenderness. The book could have been written for Wayne as Hondo exemplified the star’s values – honesty, loyalty, bravery, self-reliance and independence. As the Duke’s son Michael said, ‘What you see on the screen is what John Wayne was off the screen. It is how he lived his life.’

L’Amour honed his craft by writing many short stories before embarking on a novel-length tale. Sadly, there is no longer such a good market of pulp magazines for new writers to supply, where they can develop and improve their writing.

On a few occasions, L’Amour jumps character point of view between Hondo and Angie, Hondo and Ed Lowe etc in the same scene, but it’s forgivable because the characters and story smoothly move you on. Even if the viewpoint is omniscient, I found those particular jumps jarred a little. I also felt that the fast-paced ending seems a little rushed but it’s satisfying nevertheless. It was interesting to see that the film’s final confrontation between the Apache and the settlers and cavalry was lengthier than in the reading; much of the violence wasn’t actually shown in any graphic detail, which probably had something to do with the film code of the time.

It’s quite understandable why this book marked the beginning of L’Amour’s successful career as a novelist. You know and feel that L’Amour, like his character Hondo, has integrity and honour and it shines through. As Angie’s thoughts emphasise: ‘… this also her father had given her: reserve of judgment, and to judge no man or woman by a grouping, but each on his own character, his own ground.’

Wayne was already a big box office star. This film did his career no harm at all and the Hondo Lane character can rightly join the Ringo Kid, Ethan Edwards and Rooster Cogburn in the Wayne hall of fame. Bearing in mind this film was released in 1953, its treatment of the Apache was honest and sympathetic – as was L’Amour’s.

L’Amour states in the Foreword: ‘I do not need to go to Thermopylae or the Plains of Marathon for heroism. I find it here on the frontier.’ As do we, his readers.

Book of the film: The Searchers

THE SEARCHERS
Alan Le May

(Leisure Books)

Some fifty years after first seeing the movie, I’ve finally read the book that inspired the iconic Ford western film. Apparently, the book has been out of print for decades. Well, it was worth the wait. LeMay is an excellent storyteller, building his characters with deft touches. He employs what is now regarded as the old-fashioned style, the omniscient point of view so we get inside the feelings of more than one character within a particular scene; it works because he never loses control.

Interestingly, the John Wayne character Ethan Edwards is called Amos in the book, and is not the lead. The story is told mainly through the eyes of orphan Martin Pauley, whose father was called Ethan. Surprisingly, perhaps, the film stayed true to the story even though Wayne dominates.

Inevitably, there are grim scenes in the book, but no gratuitous gore. There’s humour too. Amos says he had no book learning. ‘To us, grammar is nothing but grampaw’s wife.’ The old ones are the best. And later, the observation is made about tequila that ‘There is a great independence, and a confident immunity to risk, in all drinks made out of cactus.’

Possibly some people haven’t seen the film. Put simply, the book concerns the Edwards family who are massacred by a Commanche raiding party; the two young daughters are abducted. Amos and Martin set out on a quest to rescue the girls and also avenge the deaths of Amos’s brother and sister-in-law, the woman he loved and lost. They track the Indians until the snows obliterate all trace. Finally, when the snows have gone, Amos and Martin resume their search, persisting for over five years. And all this time Martin fears that Amos is intent on killing his nieces because they were bound to be ‘spoiled’. The book’s ending only slightly differs from the film; both versions are moving and memorable.

The striking cover is not merely a colourful generic image – the silhouette of the tree is significant to Martin’s recurring nightmares.

As a bonus, the book has a special introduction by Andrew J Fenady, who wrote several Wayne westerns and was the actor’s pal; as he says, ‘No man was more a part of the American landscape… He was a man to match the mountains.’

Justifiably, a modern classic western: 5 stars. (Leisure books are bringing out other classic westerns later this year)

Nik