Western Wednesdays: Range Feud (1931)

     One of several films that would unite Buck Jones with a young John Wayne, Range Feud was released on December 2nd, 1931. Produced by Columbia Pictures and directed by D. Ross Lederman it follows Sheriff Buck Gordon (Jones) who must clear his best friend and adopted brother Clint Turner (Wayne) when he is accused of the murder of local rancher John Walton (Edward LeSaint). It was later remade as The Red Rider, a 15-chapter serial produced by Republic and also starring Jones.

     Range Feud is a surprisingly dark and mature tale for a Buck Jones western. It features very little action, instead focusing on Gordon's internal conflict as he struggles to reconcile his duty as Sheriff and his loyalty to his family. His adoptive father, played by Will Walling, is in the midst of a range war with Walton and, further complicating matters, is Clint's romance with Walton's daughter Judy (Susan Fleming). When Walton is mysteriously murdered moments after angrily dismissing Clint from his property, the young man becomes the prime suspect.

     Buck spends most of the film brooding over the impending execution of his friend. He does very little to try and clear his name until the last act. This makes for a rather torpid drama and, coupled with the few bits of lackluster action, the film never really comes together. Despite this, Jones still puts in a solid performance and it's nice to see him take on a more dramatic role. Wayne is also solid as the young romantic lead though, again, he's given very little to do for most of the film's runtime. Susan Fleming has decent enough chemistry with Wayne and does a good job with the material she's given. Will Walling gets, probably, the most juicy role as the hotheaded Dad Turner. Finally, Harry Woods is wasted as the rather lackluster villain, Vandall.

     Though worth watching for the novelty of seeing Buck Jones and John Wayne in the same picture, Range Feud is too per-occupied with its languid dramatic story to work as a film in it's own right.

Score: 5/10

Western Wednesdays: 3:10 to Yuma (1957)

     3:10 to Yuma was released on August 7th, 1957. Based on the short story by Elmore Leonard it is directed by Delmer Daves and adapted for the screen by Halsted Welles. In it Dan Evans (Van Heflin) agrees to put outlaw Ben Wade (Glenn Ford) on the 3:10 train to Yuma at Contention City. Wade, who is confident his gang will rescue him, tries to persuade Evans to let him go, offering him a substantial reward if he does so.

     3:10 to Yuma has some similarities to Fred Zinnemann's High Noon (1952). In both films, the protagonist is ultimately abandoned by those around him in his pursuit of justice. But while Will Kane's conflict with Frank Miller is an intensely personal one, Dan Evans is not. He simply feels compelled to carry out the job he was hired for and see to it that Wade is taken to prison. He initially agrees to help for the $200 reward, which he needs to save his farm but, as Wade begins to offer Evans greater and greater amounts to let him go, the money becomes increasingly irrelevant. This is simply something that Dan has to see through to the end.

     Also unlike High Noon, Dan is, at first, only one of many men who have agreed to bring Wade to justice. It's only when his gang arrives in Contention, and things get truly desperate, that everyone else backs out. Daves' film is generally more grounded in it's approach then Zinnemann's. Evan's is just a simple rancher, struggling to get by. The community he lives in, unlike High Noon's allegorically hypocritical Hadleyville, is one of simple, down-to-earth folks who share a sense of justice and communal responsibility. It's only when the situation becomes really deadly that they back down.

     In some way's the film functions as a character study of Wade and Evans. Dan is a man of low ambitions who just wants to feed his wife and kids. In the opening scene, when he is accosted by Wade along with the passengers on the stage, he feels ashamed at having been caught so helplessly in front of his two sons. When he helps to capture the outlaw and brings him home for one night to keep the gang off his trail, they begin to look at him with real pride. But this is not what motivates Dan, he just wants to do the job he was paid to do and, hopefully, save his farm. Wade by contrast is a man accustomed to getting what he wants. He doesn't relish violence but if someone is killed during one of his robberies, well, that's just the way it goes. As the film progresses, Wade begins to respect Evan's tenacity and refusal to compromise his morals. In the end, both men stay true to their code and this is why the climax, which might otherwise feel contrived, (mostly) works.

     Elmore Leonard's writing is outstanding. He was a master of realistic, quirky dialogue and lines like, "My own grandmother fought the Indians for sixty years... then choked to death on lemon pie," really breathe life into the characters. Delmer Daves directs with a masterful sense of visual clarity. His use tight framing through much of the film helping to ratchet up the tension and the sense of claustrophobia. On the other hand the wide shots outside of the hotel tend to emphasize the isolation and loneliness of the characters, dwarfed by the wilderness around them.

     3:10 to Yuma has a great cast. Van Heflin is a perfect choice to play the stalwart, modest Dan Evans. The usually heroic Glen Ford on the other hand, is a revelation as the cool, manipulative Ben Wade, who always seems ready with a pointed remark or pertinent story for every situation. Leora Dana brings a down to earth, matronly quality to Alice Evan, who worries that her husband has only taken this dangerous job in order to look less cowardly in her eyes. Felicia Farr meanwhile, brings a sad and bittersweet quality to Emm, the barmaid who Waid risks capture to spend a few hours with. Henry Jones' Alex Potter provides the film with something of a moral center as a man who nobody believes in but whose sacrifice, ultimately, inspires Dan to greater heights of courage. Rounding out the cast is Robert Emhardt as the principled stage-line owner, Mr. Butterfield, and Richard Jaeckel as Wade's trusted lieutenant, Charlie Prince.

     The title song, sung by Frankie Laine with lyrics by Ned Washington and George Duning (who also wrote "The Ballad of High Noon") is fantastic, and among the very best that the famed western crooner ever recorded. There's a haunting sense of melancholy and loneliness conveyed by lyrics like, "The pounding of the wheels is more like a mournful sigh..." In general, the film has a very melancholic tone. From the sleepy, economically depressed town of Bisbee to the the eerily dead streets of Contention there is the sense that this is a dying community, on the brink of economic collapse. All of this makes Wade's lifestyle, and his offer to Dan, seem that much more tempting. Conversely, the funeral procession that happens about half way through the film, while also contributing to this sense of sadness, serves as a rebuke to Wade and his carefree, lawless way of life.

     With brilliant writing, deft direction, and a rock solid cast, 3:10 to Yuma is a true western classic.

Score: 9/10

Western Wednesdays: The Proposition (2005)

     The Proposition was released on September 12th, 2005. It is directed by John Hillcoat and written by Nick Cave. In it Charlie Burns (Guy Pearce), an outlaw wanted for rape and murder, is taken prisoner by the Australian police who make Burns an offer, giving him nine days to track down and kill his older brother (played by Danny Huston) before his kid brother Mikey (Richard Wilson) is hanged. If he does this the police captain (Ray Winstone) promises to set he and Mikey free.

     The Proposition is a bleak, violent western. It presents a dangerous, seemingly forsaken world and the characters are pessimistic and immoral, almost to a fault. Charlie Burns is something of an enigma through much of the film. He clearly cares, deeply, about Mikey, and is willing to do whatever it takes to save him. Yet, when he catches up with Arthur, he hesitates to kill him. The film is pretty short on exposition, and it's never made explicit what the brothers relationship is or why exactly they parted ways.

     Arthur himself is a man of contradictions. He is deeply loyal to his brothers and to the other members of his gang his "family" as he continually says. He also has a love for nature and enjoys looking up at the stars at night. Yet he is a merciless and brutal murderer, eager, it seems, to deal out torture, rape, and death if someone threatens he or his family. Arthur's companions, Samuel (Tom Budge) and Two Bob (Tom E. Lewis) are equally bloodthirsty, but without Arthur's sense of sophistication or loyalty. Mike meanwhile is a scared child, barely able to form a coherent sentence.

     On the other side of the law you have the policemen, who are brutal, lecherous and ultimately, cowardly. Pulling the strings is Eden Fletcher (David Wenham), a corrupt, hypocritical official who maintains a pretense of civility and righteousness. Finally there's Jellon Lamb (John Hurt), a well read, racist, nihilistic bounty hunter who is also on Arthur's trail. Only Ray Winstone's Captain Stanley, along with his wife Martha (Emily Watson) offer a glimmer of decency.

     Stanley desperately tries to bring peace and order to the lawless land he lives in. By offering the two brothers a chance for freedom, he hopes to give them a second chance believing, correctly, that Arthur is the real threat. He fails to take account of the loyalty Charlie still has to his brother and of the vindictiveness of the townsfolk particularly Fletcher, who want to see all three brothers killed for their crime. When they find out that he let Charlie go, they insist that he Mike be publicly flogged. Stanley tries to stop them but when Martha shows up at the jail, seeking justice for the rape and murder of her friend (who, we learn, was pregnant at the time), the captain relents and Mike is flogged within a inch of his life.

     After witnessing this brutal beating, Martha deeply regrets her part in the whole affair and she and her Stanley eventually make up, but the damage is done. Once Charlie and Arthur find out about the flogging, they return to town to exact vengeance. After killing the guards at the prison, Arthur and Samuel go to the captain's house. Interrupting his Christmas dinner, they brutally beat him and them attempt to rape Martha while he watches. It's only here, in the final reel, that Charlie's true feelings emerge, as he puts an end to his brother's evil deeds, deeds which seem to spiral into endless cycles of violence.

     Expertly directed by John Hillcoat The Proposition features beautiful cinematography courtesy of Benoît Delhomme. The scenic landscape is contrasted with the brutality of the characters, emphasizing the indifference of nature to the fallen nature of man and amidst the corruption of society. Filled with dark poetry and moments of naked self-awareness, Nick Cave's script explores these themes with real gravity and pathos. The plot is a bit aimless at times though, given the complex and contradictory nature of the characters, I suspect that this was intentional. The performances are great all around, especially from Ray Winstone and Danny Huston.

     The Proposition is a hard film to watch at times and is certainly not for the faint of heart. Nonetheless it is a rewarding experience for the discerning viewer.

Score: 9/10

Lent Reviews Week 5: The Reluctant Saint (1962)

Out of the mouth of babes and infants thou hast perfected praise.- Psalm 8:2

     The Reluctant Saint was released on December 3rd, 1962. Directed by Edward Dmytryk and written by John Fante and Joseph Petracca it tells the story of Saint Joseph (Giuseppe) of Cupertino (Maximilian Schell), a 17th-century Italian saint and mystic who was reported to have experienced miraculous levitation and ecstatic visions.

     When we first meet Giuseppe he releases a small bird he had been hiding in his jacket during school. Throughout the film, he shows a special love for God's creatures, especially the small and innocent. Having been held back for many years because of his slow-wittedness, he returns home from school and happily presents his mother (Lea Padovani) with a diploma, which she sees as a sham.  His mother is a force to be reckoned with. She is afraid that Giuseppe, who seems to fail at everything he tries, will end up like his drunken, shiftless father (Arnoldo Foa'). Her portrayal is true to life, as the saint's mother was said to have been harsh toward her son, who she saw as a nuisance. On the other hand Giuseppe's father, who is shown to have a loving relationship with his son in the film, in reality died before he was born.

     When Giuseppe's uncle, Father Giovanni, the prior of the local Franciscan Friary, comes to visit, his mother sees this as an opportunity for Giuseppe, and uses her influence with the priest to get her son admitted into the friary. Later, when he is removed from the Friary for inadvertently breaking an old, precious statue of the Virgin Mary, she intervenes to get him reinstated, interrupting Mass and embarrassing Father Giovanni, and her persistence wins out.

     Giuseppe, in his simple humility and his attachment to his mother, is at first afraid to enter religious life but she convinces him. Later, when he is given the opportunity to become a priest, he is again reluctant, preferring to remain in the stables with his animals. The priests and brothers of the Friary all see Giuseppe as a hopeless simpleton, someone who seems to attract trouble and bad fortune. Only Bishop Durso (Akim Tamiroff), who comes to the friary for a routine inspection, sees past the simple man's rough exterior to the humble saint within. He encourages Giuseppe to pursue the priesthood and eventually, through the grace of God and a little extra help from the Bishop, he succeeds.

     It is then that his fellow priests discover an astounding secret: Giuseppe is prone to fall into heavenly ecstasies, where he is miraculously lifted from the ground. The film shows this to first occur when Giuseppe is studying for the priesthood. Filled with anguish that he is stuck in his cell with his studies, which he can't seem to apply himself to, he seeks solace from the very statue of the Madonna which he broke, the broken head of which he preserved inside the stables where he used to work. Praying in front of this statue he is frightened to find himself lifted from the ground in ecstasy. Giuseppe has a special devotion to the Blessed Mother but also enters into ecstasy in prayer and at Mass, where his brothers first witness this miraculous event.

     In any case this discovery leads to an inquest, and the local inquisitors are more then happy to leave Giuseppe's levitation as a local matter. Father Raspi (Ricardo Montalban), who has never liked Giuseppe, is not satisfied with this. He insists that Rome be brought into the investigation or else Giuseppe must be exorcised. The real Joseph was moved around from one convent to another by the inquisition, and kept in seclusion for many years. Here things are simplified a little. Fr. Raspi is turned into the sole villain of the story. He convinces the superiors to have Giuseppe exorcised and chains Giuseppe to the floor to prevent his levitation while the rite is performed. When it is finished and the saint once again rises from the floor, his chains broken by the power of God, even Raspi becomes convinced, and Giuseppe lives the rest of his days in peace within the Friary.

     With all of Giuseppe's mishaps, and the way he is often saved from them at the last minute, the film plays as a comedy much of the time, though it's never disrespectful. The writers, John Fante and Joseph Petracca, who were both Italian Americans and good friends, imbue the film with a sense of pious Italian Catholicism. The score, by acclaimed Italian composer Nina Rota (8½, The Godfather) with it's folksy instrumentation and use of chant and organ, adds to this feeling as does the location shooting by C.M. Pennington-Richards (The Reluctant Saint was shot in the Lazio region of Italy). Edward Dmytryk's gentle direction and classical composition allow the story to play out without a lot of expressionistic fanfare.

     An experienced character actor on stage and in film, Maximilian Schell is magnificent in the lead role. With his ever hunched shoulders and foolish grin, Schell's Giuseppe is a holy fool who's simple understanding and love of God take him to heights reached by only a select few. Ricardo Montalban is also great as the severe, skeptical Father Raspi, the only one who is as reluctant as the saint himself to accept God's special favor for Giuseppe. Lea Padovani steals every scene she's in as Giuseppe's overbearing but also kind and discerning mother. Carlo Croccolo provides a good contrast to Giuseppe as the resentful hunchback Gobbo. Finally, Akim Tamiroff brings Bishop Durso, who would rather spend time with Giuseppe in the stables then listen to lofty theological sermons with the other monks, to life.

     According to IMDB this is Maximilien Schell's favorite film. Though this seems a little incredulous (not the least because their is no source cited for this claim) I'd liked to think it is true and that the Academy Award winning actor who was once praised for playing "one of the greatest Hamlets ever", in his heart, preferred his performance as the simple saint.

Score: 10/10

Lent Reviews Week 5: I Confess (1953)

     I Confess was released on February 12th, 1953. Based on the 1902 French play Nos deux consciences (Our Two Consciences) by Paul Anthelme it is directed by Alfred Hitchcock, who saw  the play in the 1930s, and adapted for the screen by George Tabori and William Archibald. In it Father Michael Logan (Montgomery Clift) hears the confession of the parish caretaker, Otto Keller (O.E. Hasse), who confesses to the murder of a man he works for part time. By a cruel twist of fate, or perhaps providence, Logan is implicated for this crime and cannot clear himself without breaking the seal of confession.

     But Father Logan's dilemma is much more complex then this. Vilette, the man who was murdered, is blackmailing Ruth Grandfort, the wife of a member of the Quebec legislature, who knew Logan before he was ordained. Logan was courting Ruth when he went off to war. When his letters stopped coming she became lonely, and began seeing Pierre Grandfort, who she eventually married. When Logan returned from the war they spent a night together after being caught in the rain on a picnic (Logan claims that they did not sleep together, in any case, he did not know at the time that she had been married). Vilette saw them together and, many years later, tried to blackmail Mme. Grandfort. Father Logan was going to meet with Vilette to reason with him the morning after the murder, leading the police to suspect him. So, in addition to his reluctance to break the seal of confession, Father Logan is reluctant to reveal his relationship with Ruth and bring her scandal.

     Logan is a faithful priest. When Ruth tells Logan that she still loves him, and does not love her husband, he tells her, "I chose to be what I am. I believe in what I am."He does not let his former feelings for Ruth interfere with his vocation. His only thought is to protect her and her husband from scandal. Nor does he consider telling the police about Otto. Under no circumstances will he break the seal of confession. Otto himself is skeptical of Logan's fidelity in this matter. He tells him, "How kindly he hears my confession and then a little shame, a little violence that's all it takes to make him talk." "You are a coward like all other people, aren't you?A hypocrite like all the rest." Otto's words may well echo the thoughts of many in the audience. Hitchcock, who was lifelong Catholic was worried that non-Catholics in the audience might not understand the importance of the seal of confession. "We Catholics know that a priest cannot disclose the secret of the confessional, but the Protestants, the atheists, and the agnostics all say, 'Ridiculous! No man would remain silent and sacrifice his life for such a thing," he said.

     Though, in the end, Logan is acquitted of the murder for lack of sufficient evidence, his reputation as a priest is destroyed by the trial. As he leaves the courthouse he is harangued by an angry mob. "Take off that collar!", one man yells angrily. Wracked by guilt, Mrs. Keller decides to tell the police what really happened but Otto shoots her to prevent this. He is then pursued by the police and Logan, hoping to avoid further violence, tries to talk him down. Believing that the priest has finally cracked and told the police about his confession, Otto admits to the crime in their hearing. In his last moments he asks for Logan's forgiveness, and, despite all the damage he's done, the Priest forgives him, granting him absolution.

     The script really brings home how sacred the seal of confession is. In one scene Otto tries to talk to Fr. Logan about the confession but Logan tries to ignore him. "I don't know what your talking about", he says. The original play was much darker, with Logan and Ruth having a affair which lead to her having a child out-of-wedlock, and the priest was executed at the end of the story. The affair was removed for fear of a negative reaction at the insistence of the Warner Brothers executives and the execution was changed at the objections of the diocese of Quebec, where the film was shot. Because of this, a second writer, William Archibald, was brought on for re-writes. This may account for the films one major weakness: the lengthy bit of exposition that brings the momentum of the story to a dead stop half way through.

     Montgomery Clift's method acting is quite effective. He really sells the inner turmoil of the character. Hitchcock, however, became frustrated with the actor, as his method got in the way of the director's meticulous planning of scenes. Anne Baxter is also great as the desperate Ruth Grandfort, conveying the character's unhappiness with her marriage and her unfulfilled love for Logan. Like Dial M for Murder's Chief Inspector Hubbard, Karl Malden's Inspector Larrue is one of Hitchcock's great detective characters, someone who, one feels while watching the film, could perhaps carry his own series of detective stories. O.E. Hasse breaths a real desperation and sense of danger into Otto Keller while Dolly Haas provides a staunch, sympathetic contrast as his wife, Alma. Hitchcock's direction is fantastic. The way he builds suspense, even without the implicit violent dangers that usually characterize his pictures, is truly stunning. Simple scenes of Logan staring at a movie poster where a man is arrested, or looking into a shop window at a suit of clothes, are imbued with a real sense of urgency and agony under Hitchcock's assured hand. Robert Burks' cinematography, filled with harsh shadows and contrasting imagery and featuring striking images of religious significance, lends the film an atmosphere of guilt, torment and dread. Dimitri Tiomkin's dramatic score, with it's reliance on heavy percussion and brass, emphasizes this effect.

     I Confess is one of Hitchcock's most underappreciated films and a great example of Catholic values being portrayed in secular cinema. Highly recommended!

Score: 9/10