The Last Wagon (1956) - Directed by Delmer Daves

As further confirmation that Delmer Daves was the western genre’s great moralist director, we have this fascinating and pointed psychological western to point to. The Last Wagon, along with others from Daves in this era, like Jubal and 3:10 to Yuma, make distinctive reference points to Biblical allegories….each film examining the west as a sort of proving grounds for faith, justice, and moral uprightness. Daves positions his characters in situations that cause them to question their sense of right and wrong. These temptations and conundrums are positioned against men of good mental and spiritual fortitude in Jubal and 3:10 to Yuma. But in The Last Wagon, our protagonist is of questionable moral standards to begin with and even we the audience aren’t quite sure what to make of our own judgements of him.

Daves co-scripted the film and helped create a fiendishly clever psychological mess of a plot. Comanche Todd (Richard Widmark), named so because he was raised mostly by Comanches, has been captured by Sheriff Harper as Todd was wanted for the murder of Harper’s three brothers. After taking him captive, Harper and Todd meet up with a wagon train, and Harper ties Todd to a wagon wheel to keep him captive. Tempers flare when some of the wagon train members begin to show care for Todd, while Harper wants none of that. During a fit of confusion, Todd manages to kill Harper, leaving the wagon train to deal with Todd themselves. A group of younger individuals from the train decide to go skinny dipping during the night, Jenny (Felicia Farr) and her brother Billy (Tommy Rettig), Jolie (who’s half Native American – played by Susan Kohner) and her racist step-sister Valinda (Stephanie Griffin), and two other young men named Ridge (Nick Adams) and Clint (Ray Stricklyn). When they all arrive back at the wagon train in the early morning, they find everyone has been slaughtered by Apaches……except Todd. This positions all six of the young survivors into a situation whereby their only hope of survival is to let the seemingly “evil” Todd lead them across the dangerous territory to safety…….if they can trust him.

I’m not sure Daves could have found a more perfect actor to play Comanche Todd than Richard Widmark. Widmark was of course typecast a bit during his days as morally corrupt and slimy, often playing bad guys or good guys gone bad in numerous film noirs and westerns throughout his career. Widmark has a fascinating ability, though, to rise above this sort of typecasting through his impressive range. Here he’s believably tough, rugged, fatherly, caring, daring, vengeful and just about any other adjective you could use to describe his character. What works so well is that we are never quite sure of what he’s capable of. His past exploits, as assumed by most of the 6 survivors, are seen in different lights. Jenny finds a rugged handsomeness and danger in him that she is attracted to, and at one point even grimacing with pleasure as Todd digs a knife into an Apache’s chest. Billy finds Todd to be a father figure, learning from Todd’s teaching and mentoring while he is leading them through the dessert. Valinda despises Todd completely, not trusting him one bit and fearing for her safety, despite the fact that he saves her life after she’s bitten by a rattler. Ridge and Clint can’t quite make up their minds most of the time, as their own fears of inadequacy to care for the group force them to follow Todd’s direction even though they don’t always like it. Jolie finds a quiet camaraderie in Todd, as his sympathies and understanding of racism she appreciates. Widmark is able to reflect back all of these qualities that are needed in convincing fashion, and it’s one of his best and most confident performances.

Many things are done to near perfection in this film: Wilfred Cline’s terrific Scope cinematography, the excellent action sequences (love those gunpowder explosions), the terrific supporting roles (especially Felicia Farr as the sexually yearning Jenny….in fact Farr added fine performances to Jubal and 3:10 to Yuma as well), the self-aware script that doesn’t shy away from topics of racism, fornication and spirituality. True though the plot is the sort of thing that could be construed as cliché, the film elevates beyond the usual through the continued Biblical reference points. On more than one occasion, there’s mention of preaching and the Bible, with even mention of Todd’s birth-father being a circuit preacher. This allows for an appropriation to Todd as wandering prophet or savior to this group of 6 people. He preaches, prophesies, and enacts lessons of survival and safety and protection to his newfound family or “congregation” if you will. It’s almost like he’s Moses leading the Israelites through the desert. At the end of the film, the question of law versus justice comes into play, as Daves’s script allows for a very pointed examination of judgement….both man’s and God’s. Our understanding of Comanche Todd and everything we think he’s done gets turned upside down in the finale, with God smiling down on him in reprieve  based upon his lifesaving exploits, which although on the surface seems wishy-washy,  is actually not dissimilar to the miraculous rain shower at the end of 3:10 to Yuma based on Van Heflin’s faithful service, or even Glenn Ford’s redemption and survival at the end of Jubal by refraining from adultery. These endings are all remarkably consistent and in line with Daves’s unique brand of psychological western.

3:10 to Yuma (1957) - Directed by Delmer Daves

Note: This review appears on the Top 50 Westerns countdown at Wonders in the Dark, placing at #29.

Delmer Daves has usually been last in the line of discussion of the great western directors, if he gets mentioned at all. If one were to create a Mt. Rushmore of western film directors, it would look something like this: Ford, Mann, Leone,.....and in most circles Boetticher as well, would probably get all the attention. Maybe the recent Criterion releases of two of Daves's best films (including this one) will begin to highlight his career more. Those that forget to mention Daves in the discussion are certainly creating an oversight. His films stand among the best of the genre in the 1950’s, as he made a series of fascinating moral masterworks, unlike anything else. Daves’s works often incorporate what I call parables (and even one could label them as Biblical parables of sorts), providing a context and filter through which he examines our instincts, our responsibilities, temptations and our challenges as a human race, thereby taking a moral inventory of human nature. In these ways, Daves carves his own niche within the genre, adding this unique perspective not found in other films. 3:10 to Yuma is his most famous work, if also perhaps his best, weaving moral complexity with significant amounts of tension. It's an essential western masterpiece that is also a gateway into the rest of Daves's work.

3:10 to Yuma builds slowly toward a tense climax. It’s about a rancher named Dan Evans (Van Heflin), who with his two boys, happen to witness a stage coach robbery and murder by a gang leader named Ben Wade (Glenn Ford) and his gang. Through some chance happenings, a local posse is able to apprehend Wade in a local saloon, after Wade hangs around town a bit too long in town (for some hanky-panky with the saloon-girl Emmy in a small but terrific performance by a Delmer Daves regular, Felicia Farr). It becomes clear in these early scenes that Ford’s Wade is not only a ladies man, but has a convincing, rather cerebral way with people, and can be in fact, quite gentle and sensitive. In order to raise money for his flailing, drought-ridden farm, Evans decides to be part of a plan to get Wade on the 3:10 train to Yuma so he can be turned in to the Yuma Penitentiary. The train will arrive in a nearby town named Contention. Only, they need to keep Wade’s whereabouts a secret from the rest of his gang in order to prevent the group from descending upon them, and breaking him free. Evans ends up spending a tension-filled afternoon with Wade for several hours in a hotel room in Contention as they wait the afternoon away until the train arrives, in one of the great sequences in western film history.

And let’s discuss that sequence. The film is really a build-up to the final hour in which we watch the battle of wills and manhood between Ford’s Wade and Van Heflin’s Evans. With his short barreled shotgun at the ready, Van Heflin starts the afternoon cool and determined. Slowly, Wade, through a series of conversations, temptations, and bribes, begins to chip away at Evans’s crumbling façade. Sweat begins to drip profusely from Van Heflin’s forehead and we sense as the other gang members learn of Wade’s whereabouts, that Evans begins to question whether this whole thing is worth it. Other men who've said they would help with the cause begin to abandon the efforts as odds become tougher, until Evans is the last man standing. Charles Lawton Jr.’s photography in this second half as it takes place in the room, is shaded with chiaroscuro, as light and shadow comes through the windowpanes, bathing the room in a sort of moral complexity. Nothing is completely illuminated....nothing is completely hidden. Morals begin to constrict, as a corruption and melding of good and evil come together. We sense Wade has a core of decency as we've seen him be sensitive throughout the film, particularly his gentle moments at Evans’s house before they head to Contention. We also begin to question Evans’s motives, as it appears like he’s being persuaded to take Wade’s bribes. Both men, Ford and Van Heflin might give the performances of their careers. Overall this section of the film is a worthy section to diagnose. We begin to see shades of Biblical implications. Wade’s bribes and lies begin to sound like Satan in the Garden of Eden, or when he tempted Jesus in the desert, promising riches and glory. In fact, the Biblical allegory angle also comes up when discussing the drought in the film, that is only broken once Evans is able to prove himself faithful to his cause. He holds firm at the end, and not only is his life spared, his cause emboldened, but the drought is lifted in a climactic thunderstorm that rains down upon the parched land. Some viewers wonder about the overheard, oncoming "thunderstorm" on the soundtrack near the end of the film, prior to the final showdown. All indications appear that Evans hears this alone and we hear what Evans hears. If this is the case, it's almost like a moral prodding or moral signpost, indicating to Evans that he is doing the right thing. These sorts of religious themes are rampant in Daves's best works. Think of The Last Wagon, where a Moses (Richard Widmark) leads his people through the desert. Think of The Hanging Tree, where there is an examination of a flawed Good Samaritan (Gary Cooper). Or even in Jubal, where the lure of sex is strong, but chastity is rewarded, recalling the story of Joseph and Potipher's wife. All of these historical recollections give Daves's films a timeless quality and a remarkable distillation of human nature, reminding us how our desires and temptations haven't changed much through the years. 

Daves’s film avoids relying on usual tropes in films like this, mainly because of his insistence on letting the rancher dictate the outcome. Based on a short story by Elmore Leonard, this is a film that lets the everyman be the hero. This isn’t Shane. There is no strapping gunfighter that will come along and make things easier for the common folk. This also isn’t High Noon, where the seasoned veteran stands up one last time. 3:10 to Yuma is in fact, the Everyman’s shining hour because it allows this rancher/husband/father a chance to stand up for himself and hold to his principles. Even if the initial prospect is for money, it turns out in the end, he does his job in the name of honor. Even after Evans realizes that he will have to do the entire job on his own, he clearly and succinctly views this opportunity as a way of proving himself....if not to his wife, or his children, or his town....but perhaps to a higher power. It would make perfect sense for Evans, without help from anyone, to give up. But, he decides to continue on by himself and succeeds through nothing less than his own sheer ingenuity and determination in the face of ridiculous odds, or perhaps a little help from above. People like Evans and his wife in this film are forced into tough decisions because of the hard-scrabble life they live. Here, the west is a place where these decisions are life and death and where every one of these decisions seems to operate in a complex shade of gray. Daves’s film allows this reality to unfold with precision.  

Jubal (1956) - Directed by Delmer Daves

Dripping with Technicolor, CinemaScope panoramas, full blooded acting, and sex, Jubal is just about the most melodramatic western this side of Johnny Guitar. Based on Othello, this re-telling of the Bard’s tale out west fares remarkably well, and it has a good deal to do with the magnificent cinematography and to several wonderful performances from the remarkable cast. But there’s also a lurid and knowing way with sex here, as sexual innuendos and a flirtatious sense of danger is present throughout, transplanting what is more typical of penthouses than outhouses. It’s a refreshing and arresting type of film that surely ranks as one of the underrated gems of the western genre and is one of the main pieces of evidence to suggest that Delmer Daves is one of the greatest directors of western cinema.

Anyone familiar with the story of Othello will see the outlines take shape as Jubal unfolds. Jubal (Glenn Ford) is a runaway ranch hand who is rescued from the high mountain passes by a passing rancher named Shep Horgan, (played with typical bravado by Ernest Borgnine) who brings Jubal back to his ranch. Jubal rests for a few days and plans to move on, but is lured to stay by the prospect of work, and also by the alluring presence of Shep’s sexy wife, Mae (Valerie French), who has her eyes on Jubal’s goods from the get-go. Of course, Pinky (Rod Steiger), stands as the ranch bully, with his eyes on staying as top ranch hand and having his way with Mae while Shep is out, and his presence gives us our “Iago”, filled with lies and jealousy, goading and prodding Shep into thinking that Jubal and Mae are rolling in the hay. A side plot involving Jubal’s interest in a “wagon train girl” named Naomi, (played by a Delmer Daves favorite - Felicia Farr) who is on her way through the territory as part of a religious group seeking refuge, allows for Jubal to view two sides of his future. On one path is the true-blue blonde….spiritual and graceful. On the other path is the dangerous brunette……lusty and wild. It’s all terrific western fun.

Shot in the valleys and mountains near the Teton Range, the look of the film is simply breathtaking, especially on the new Criterion disc. Huge expanses of range and mountains are seen in much of the film and the wide expanses give the film a distinctive Hollywood embellishment that elevates the heightened emotional proceedings and dwarfs us with melodramatic and scenic rapture. It’s a bit like porn for scenery lovers. Highlights are not just limited to the external shots, but the darkly lit interior sets are loaded with shadows amidst the widescreen framing and these subtle textures provide a backbone for sexual cheating and maneuvering. Of particular note are scenes between Mae and Jubal, where Valerie French and Glenn Ford have terrific sexual chemistry together. Additionally Ernest Borgnine gives one of his best performances as a naïve and trusting kingpin who’s clearly married above himself, but is completely blind to Mae’s needs. Rod Steiger is in full-on STEIGER mode, prowling, snarling, and basically chewing up the scenery in one of his best early roles. He’s actually somewhat terrifying and toward the end of the film has a quick and nasty closed-fist fight with Mae that takes his menacing Pinky from brutish, to memorably evil in a quick second.

Ultimately, the film’s emphasis on emotion and scenery while grounding us in earthy performances is what makes the film memorable. True, it maintains a bit of a campy atmosphere, with the sexual innuendos, and with Valerie French seeming to wear that bright red smock all the time...... in fact it has a tendency to seem overstated and a bit thick-headed. But there’s something really fun and vital here, reminding us that Sex and Gunplay are equally exciting and in the hands of Delmer Daves, the combination results in a fiery brand of western. I think the only western film that comes close to this sort of melodramatic over-the-top-ness, is Nick Ray’s Johnny Guitar. But Daves is less interested in the outsider and the non-conformist. His concern is the upholding of a man’s duty. Jubal is about facing down one’s temptations and choosing to take the high road..... choosing duty over pleasure. It smacks as very similar to another Daves masterpiece, 3:10 to Yuma, where the easy way out is directly in front of our hero, but he takes the hard way instead and finds redemption through the testing ground. Daves may in fact be Western Cinema’s greatest moralist, featuring such upstanding characters who rarely back down in the face of odds, (like Richard Widmark in The Last Wagon) or who stick to unpopular decisions when they know they've done right (like Gary Cooper in The Hanging Tree). These characters somehow have a supernatural ability to resist temptation. Even though Daves has been called a western documentarian of sorts, I tend to see his films as Biblical fantasies if you will…..Good men tempted with riches or sex who resist temptation and who are rewarded in the end for doing the right thing. I’m not so sure life really works that way, but it certainly makes for entertaining and riveting cinema.