Lent Reviews: The Fugitive (1947) (Week 4 Review 2 of 2)

     Not to be confused with the 1993 Harrison Ford movie of the same name or the 60's television series on which it was based, John Ford's The Fugitive was released on November 3rd, 1947. An adaptation of Graham Greene's novel, The Power and the Glory, it is written by frequent Ford collaborator Dudley Nichols (The Informer, Stagecoach, The Battle of Midway). The film stars Henry Fonda as a Catholic Priest on the run from the law in an oppressive Latin American state.

     It's interesting to contrast The Fugitive with the film I reviewed earlier this week. While The Mission tells a story of priests protecting a poor community from government sanctioned oppression, here, the Mexican villagers must shield a priest from the civil authorities, who have outlawed religion. Where The Mission takes place in a very specific place and time in history, The Fugitive keeps it's setting intentionally vague stating: "It's locale is fictional. It is merely a small state a thousand miles north or south of the equator. Who knows..." Both films were written by acclaimed writers, but while Robert Bolt wrote The Mission late in his career with his best work behind him, Graham Greene's The Power and the Glory, on which this film is based, is often considered his masterpiece. The Mission was helmed by an up-and-coming director, whose work since then has mostly been panned while The Fugitive was directed by one of Hollywood's most acclaimed auteurs at the height of his career.

     In any case,  The Fugitive is a truly inspiring film about accepting God's will. Fonda's priest is a remarkably passive protagonist, moved hither and thither by others with almost astonishing complacency. When the police come to his village to arrest him the villagers protect him, and one is taken as a hostage. The priest offers to take the man's place as he has a family who needs him but he does not reveal his identity. Later, when he is arrested for possession of alcohol (he is trying to obtain wine for a funeral mass) he witnesses the same man being dragged away for execution, yet still he does nothing. Like Jonah he runs from the will of God and, as a result, others suffer. In doing so, he's really running away from his own self.

     After his initial escape from the country he reveals that he was prideful to stay when the oppression started, thinking he would be strong enough to do the right thing when the moment arose. Now, having failed to do this, he is ashamed. Yet despite his timidity he never fails to come to the spiritual aid of his flock when called upon to do so. At another point in the film he is about to leave the country on a boat when one of his parishioners meets him and asks him to administer last rites to his dying mother and, reluctantly, he lets go of his chance to escape and goes with the young boy.

     A rather pathetic figure through most of the film, he seems to come alive in the last act. Returning to the dangers of this fictional country in order to administer last rites to an American criminal who helped him to escape, he is finally captured by the police. In his captivity he begins to experience a true inner peace. When Pedro Armendáriz's police lieutenant offers to save his life if he will publicly renounce his faith he tells him, "The priesthood is large. It's tremendous. I was always too small for it." But he refuses to apostatize without a second thought. As he is taken to his execution he encounters the alcoholic thief who sold him to the police. Like Judas, this man regrets his actions and tries to give money to the priest in exchange for a blessing, but Fonda tells him, "Go home and pray, give the money to the poor." In his last hour he has become a figure of Christ and this is what all Christians are called to. It's only by doing the will of God, by letting go of our own self-will, that we truly find ourselves.

     Though many complain about the film's infidelity to Greene's novel (which I haven't read) Nichol's script is wonderfully literary in it's treatment of the various characters. Brief episodes throughout the film subtlety add depth to Dolores Del Rio's Marie Delores, abandoned along with her infant child by Pedro Armendáriz's atheistic police lieutenant; Ward Bond's swaggering outlaw Calvert; Leo Carrillo's corrupt chief of police; and J. Carrol Naish's thieving informer. Ford's direction is outstanding as always, though his usual sloppy continuity and weakness for overly long comedic interludes weighs the film down at times. Gabriel Figueroa's immaculate cinematography add a cinematic vividness to this simple parable. Like most of Ford's film The Fugitive is filled with images that are striking in their expressive power.

     The Fugitive is a really unique film. It's exploration of obedience, human weakness and martyrdom is aided by masterful direction from John Ford and strong performances from all involved. It's no wonder the director considered it to be one of his finest achievements.

Score: 9/10