Westward the Women (1951) - Directed by William Wellman

This William Wellman classic defies genre expectations and has a unique tone throughout. Written by Frank Capra, it has the inherent sentiment and good-hearted nature that much of his work is founded upon. But because Capra didn’t have time to direct and instead got William Wellman to helm the film, it is distinctively stark and gritty to the core, exemplifying the kind of toughness found in his other classics like Yellow Sky and The Ox-Bow Incident. It’s also one of the best westerns as far as portraying women in non-stereotypical roles. But ultimately, it’s just a darn great western in its own right, portraying the hardship, toughness and resolve required to get a wagon train to California….except this one is a wagon train full of women.

Set in 1851, Capra’s script centers on a newly settled valley in California, that just so happens to only have men there at the moment. A man named Roy Whitman (John McIntire) who founded the settlement wants to have women arrive to marry the men and start families to populate the area. He hires Buck Wyatt (Robert Taylor) to go to Chicago and recruit women for the trip. Through a screening and interview process, he finds 138 women who decide to take the trip….many of them for different reasons of course. They each pick out a picture of the man they want to marry and soon they’re off on the California Trail. These women can do a variety of jobs….some can shoot, some can ride horses, some can drive the wagons. Buck also has with him a small handful of men to help guide the trip, and tells the men to stay away from the women. One man doesn’t listen, and gets himself shot. Slowly some of the other men and some of the women leave the trail and turn back. But for 3 men Buck, Roy, and Ito (Henry Nakamura….a Japanese cowboy who at first seems like a Hollywood cliché but in the end defies stereotypes), they’re in it for the long haul with the women as they travel to California.

Part of the success of this movie lies in the fact that it is tough as nails. Wellman does not pull any punches in this film about women and rarely lets sentiment become overbearing. There are Native American attacks, rattlesnakes, flash floods and storms, stampedes, accidental deaths, fisticuffs….it’s a long and brutal wagon train, in fact one of the toughest, maybe the toughest portrayal of a wagon train on film that I’ve personally seen. There’s also no music in the film except for the opening credits and at the very end. This keeps the emotions from swelling artificially, and gives an element of realism to the whole thing. I particularly love the camera work and the location shooting, apparently filmed a great deal in Utah. William Mellor’s camerawork and framing in the traditional academy ratio is some of the best framing and scenery shots you’ll ever see. He also photographed a few other renowned classics of the genre like The Naked Spur, Giant, Bad Day at Black Rock. What’s so fantastic is the way he employs the low angle shot of groups of women as they look toward the horizon. This effect gives the women a larger-than-life heroism, allowing for a stoic characterization to come forward, almost a bit like traditional Russian cinema, when there is often low angled shots that emphasize a certain powerful, architectural dynamic. So too here, the power of these women are given a respect throughout the film, both from the script and the camera work.

Ultimately it is the women that are most memorable about this film. So many parts are well acted: Denise Darcel as the French woman Fifi; Julie Bishop as Laurie, the girl who is expecting a child out of wedlock; Renata Vanni as Mrs. Maroni, the grieving Italian mother, and maybe especially Hope Emerson as the hard driving Patience Hawley. There are many other parts here though too, and the vignette-like nature of the film allows for a variety of scenes. There is deep sadness here, and action, and comedy relief, but it’s tied together so well by the grittiness and the toughness that Wellman insists upon. The toughness and female perspective of the wagon train experience would be examined 60 years later, in Kelly Reichardt’s magnificent Meek’s Cutoff. But of course the key difference there, is that the infallible, hard-driving male at the lead of the wagon train in Westward the Women is replaced in Meek’s Cutoff by a foolish, lazy, untrustworthy man. There are images and themes shared by both films, but the degree to which the female story here can be told, and who they are led by is different. This certainly doesn’t take anything away from Wellman’s masterpiece, which of course was directed, written, and produced by men and would be subject to points of view as such. It stands today as a stepping-stone type work leading to more feminist leaning works in the future. It should be noted that the women here not only embody roles that are traditionally male dominated, it is THEY who pick their mates, and it is THEY who stand their ground and refuse to enter the town at the end of the film until they receive new clothes (an unpopular decision among the men of course, as the women command full control). Though they embody traditionally male roles in western films, they are in fact allowed to be women through it all, such that the film's perspective is that women can be women. They don't have to be "men" to get through this. This is a memorable film that needs to be seen by more people. 

True Heart Susie (1919) - Directed by D. W. Griffith

(Note: This review is being posted as part of the Gish Sisters Blogathon, hosted by Movies Silently and The Motion Pictures)

Lillian Gish’s work with director D.W. Griffith generated one of the best director/actress pairings in the history of cinema. Griffith had this uncanny knack for finding material that suited Gish perfectly. In turn, Gish was able to elevate the material beyond the typical stereotypes that melodramas can fall into. Griffith understood that Gish was his best acting asset and created roles for her that are some of the most iconic of the era, including magnificent performances in Broken Blossoms and Way Down East among others. But some of the lesser known films, like True Heart Susie, contain examples of Gish’s acting that are somewhat unique and also showcase some of Griffith’s smaller and less histrionic tales.

In January of 1919, Griffith released a picture with Gish titled A Romance of Happy Valley, one in which a sweetheart stays at home while her man makes it big in the world, only to return home to find things not as he left them. Griffith then made True Heart Susie in June of that year. It’s actually a far better film that has similar overtones but one of the main corrections he makes to the basic structure of the plot, is to allow Gish to stay on screen longer, especially in the final 20 minutes of the film. The other interesting development in True Heart Susie is how Griffith combines comedy, tragedy, and romantic melodrama so effectively. Gish plays Susie, the ultimate girl next door who hardly ever gets noticed. She lives with her aunt and she’s friends of her neighbor, William (Robert Harron), the dark and handsome young man with whom she pines for. He wants to attend college and little does he know, but Susie secretly pays his tuition by selling her cow and other animals. She in fact sends him a letter that makes him think that the tuition is paid by a philanthropist of great wealth. Her motivation is so she can marry a man with an education of course. He celebrates the news of this letter by running across the street and he’s so excited and is on the verge of kissing Susie but he doesn’t quite do it. In a fit of comedic timing, they bob and weave close to each other but they don't kiss in a comedic sense of romantic denial. Gish’s Susie really is just the girl he confides in despite the fact he ends up getting involved with a glamorous brunette named Bettina (Clarine Seymour) when he returns from college. Much to Susie’s dismay, William marries the woman, but in the gloriously melodramatic denouement, Susie’s “true heart” wins out in the end.

Griffith wasn’t known for his comedies. But it’s amazing to see just how adept he is at infusing brilliantly correlated jokes into the plot. Griffith’s comedic sense of timing is emphasized by his juxtaposition of images and intertitles that sarcastically comment on the rather desperate,  nonexistence of the relationship at hand. Susie is attempting to primp herself in competition for William when we read…..“Susie, preparing herself against the paint and powder brigade.” Her aunt then bursts in and says, “Powder! Do you think you can improve upon the Lord’s work?” There’s also this lovely little comedic moment where Susie stands in front of the ice cream sign…..staring at William….then slyly looking at the ice cream sign….then back to William. In another funny moment, Susie receives a letter from him where he says “so far, I haven’t found anyone I like better than the people at home.” She proceeds to kiss the letter numerous times and prance around the room, despite the lack of enthusiasm he puts into his words. Susie is in fact so naively in denial that William DOESN'T love her that even when William leaves a party with the brunette at the end of the evening, Susie remarks “Oh, he had to be nice to the stranger.” There’s this other darkly comedic moment where Susie watches William and the brunette from across the farm….she can’t bear to watch them flirting and she closes her eyes, as if once she opens them the brunette would have disappeared. Griffith turns the tables in the second half, though, turning the film into a devastating tragedy in the making, with multiple shots of Susie, desperate, with tears in her eyes. On Bettina's wedding day, we see her in her wedding dress….then the camera pans wider to find Susie is one of her attendants, in a devastating portrayal of Susie’s penchant for humiliating embarrassment.

Gish’s performance in this film is not quite like any others I’ve seen from her. She is remarkable in her ability to project a sort of deadpan melancholy, almost like the female counterpoint to someone like Buster Keaton at times. She so often presents body language to make a point, like her stilted walking down the lane as the naïve school girl, or her subtle eye movements in front of the drug store in town, or her sad-sack expressions as she hugs her cow. So often Griffith sets us up to believe Susie has no real appeal whatsoever by her rather uptight form of dress, as compared to the free-wheeling women of the city. But he contrasts this with her knowledge of practical things: farm life, cooking, caring for the sick. Yes it’s a bit stereotypical, but it’s notable that William sees the prospect of Susie’s fresh roasted chicken and baked biscuits as far more sexy than the cold meat that his wife presents to him every day. Gish makes all of these elements come together so well because we care about her and believe her, whether she’s giddy over a letter she has just received, or caring for her sick aunt, or sad over William cheating on her, or vengeful and ready to punch Bettina in her sleep. She also has a significant acting moment that occurs at about the 49 minute mark, after Susie has primped herself and gone over to William’s house, only to find him with the brunette. She retreats to the hallway, and Griffith goes in for a close-up. What happens over about the next 30 seconds is pure and elemental Gish. Every single emotion that one could think of comes rushing to her face….one after another. It is remarkable stuff and no one ever did this better than she. Gish doesn’t quite have the large, meaty role, filled with desperation that she would get in Orphans of the Storm, or Way Down East, but her comedic timing here and immense range is a definitive look at her talent.

The Battle at Elderbush Gulch (1913) - Directed by D.W. Griffith

(Note: This review is being re-posted with some additional thoughts as part of the Gish Sisters Blogathon, hosted by Movies Silently and The Motion Pictures)

Griffith’s rousing and exciting western adventure 2-reeler is a wonderful early example of the genre, 
featuring some terrifically filmed battle sequences, a wonderfully exciting cliffhanger and a sensitive, heartwarming happy ending, the likes of which stands as one of Griffith's most fantastic endings.... an ending that makes me grin from ear to ear. The fact that the film contains a point of view decidedly centered around the experiences of a woman and some small girls makes it something of an early feminist western, positioning the female experience in the active role, rather than the passive, spectator role that they are so often relegated to, and in the process relegating the men here into almost comical inconsequentiality. It's also one of Griffith's best works prior to his longer films....filled with brilliantly executed cross-cutting and editing, magnificently staged action set-pieces and a very densely plotted 2-reels, not to mention a fantastic performance from Lillian Gish in one of her earliest roles.

This short film features a plucky and expressive Mae Marsh as Sally, who with her younger sister is sent west to live with their 3 uncles. As part of their luggage, they bring 2 young puppies with them. On the same stagecoach is Lillian Gish as an unnamed mother who is traveling with her husband and their young baby to the same town where the girls are to live. The girls worry about their puppies, whom their Uncles say must live outside the cabin. Some Native Americans happen to steal the puppies for food. But Sally, in a fit of crazed mania, chases after them, snatching the puppies from their clutches, and even knocking one over in the process! The Uncles intervene, shooting one Native American dead. The other returns to the tribe and convinces the tribe to attack the settlers. During the ensuing battle, Gish's baby ends up in the wrong hands during battle and winds up on the battleground outside the Uncle's cabin. Gish finds herself in the cabin with the men and the young girls, while she frantically worries and searches for her baby. Sally, in a fit of "heroine-ism", steals away through a trap door in the back of the cabin, crawls across the battlefield, scoops up the baby and returns to safety! At the end of the film, all is right with the world, the mother’s worries are gone, and Sally is a heroine.

This film is so much fun. I love the distinctive focus on the concerns of the children and the mother. The men are relegated to the place of spectator while the girls and the mother propel the plot onward. It’s a refreshing sort of plot, filled with Griffith's usual melodrama and sentiment, but it’s enacted with a sort of confident understanding of this POV, and doesn't look back. Gish is fantastic in her brief role, those familiar wild eyes flaring as she searches for her baby. It's actually quite remarkable that she already at the age of 20, and in only her second year of acting had such a command of her emotions in front of the camera. My single favorite moment is that wonderful look on Gish's face as she sees Sally and the kids pop their heads out of the chest. Her expression is so naturalistic, joyful and emotive. It should be no surprise that Griffith’s portrayal of the battle sequences is particularly well done, filmed far enough back to allow the scope of battle to unfold with usual flair, and including some terrific combat elements in more close-up moments. It's almost astonishing how exciting these combat elements are here in 1913. As one of Griffith’s early masterpieces, the film stands as not only one of the best westerns of the silent era, but also a slice of life that’s key and essential to the genre, encompassing and examining the existence of women and children and showing their experience with compassion. This was the last silent western that Griffith would make and it's just about perfect.

The film can be viewed here....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DrpNwNNspsk

Rio Bravo (1959) - Directed by Howard Hawks

There’s something so effortless about Hawks’ Rio Bravo….something so utterly smooth about it. Watching it is like being caressed and hugged by something resembling a big warm “western blanket”. When you turn it on, there's this soothing cinematic romanticism, coupled with a professional suave that is irresistible. But there’s also Hawks and his wonderful sense of camaraderie and determination that he puts on display. You want to spend time with these people….Dean Martin, John Wayne, Angie Dickinson, Ricky Nelson and Walter Brennan because they are good people and there’s a dignity about them. Throughout the film's entire running time, one is treated to near perfect cinema with a cast of memorable characters and a script that has you grinning often. It’s got a bit of everything: great action, romance, comedy, pathos, fine music......one could go on.

John Wayne plays Sheriff Chance, who along with his other deputies, Dude, the recovering alcoholic (Dean Martin), and Stumpy, the crippled old man (a hilarious Walter Brennan) have captured the murderous Joe Burdette (Claude Akins), who is brother to a nearby ranch owner. Chance and his deputies must patrol the town and keep order until they can get Joe out of town to meet his justice. They spend several days warding off various ranchers and hired guns who have an eye to get Joe out of jail. In a charming subplot, a woman named Feathers (Angie Dickinson) has arrived in town off the stage and begins to woo Chance with come-hither looks and a no-nonsense attitude, turning Chance into something resembling pudding. It’s a cute subplot that could only work in a Howard Hawks film because he gives the people enough of a dignity to actually make us care whether Chance and Feathers get together. Their wonderful interplay more than justifies the inclusion of this plot element. Just to make things a bit more well rounded, a young gunslinger named Colorado (Ricky Nelson) has come to town and although initially shy of helping out Chance, soon comes around to helping him keep the peace. It seems all rather straightforward, but the execution is simply perfection.

So we have this really nice cross-section of individuals coming together to support each other in a cause. We have young and old, male and female, able bodied and not so able bodied. Because of their determination and hard work together, they’re able to pull through in the end. This sense of determination and camaraderie is so elemental to Hawks and his films. Think of Bringing Up Baby, His Girl Friday, Only Angels Have Wings and one can find this same sense of purposeful determination. John Wayne gives one of his smoothest and most charming performances as Chance. He underplays so nicely that sometimes you’re surprised at how genteel he is. Martin captures a dark, self-destructive streak, and although I never found him to be a great actor, he does well enough to make you believe he was a hot-shot deputy several years before. Angie Dickinson gives a fun and well-timed performance, standing up to Wayne nicely and not letting him overshadow their scenes together. Her talkative and aggressive flirting is infectious. My favorite performance in the film would be from Walter Brennan though. He’s so funny and crotchety and whiny with that domed hat and teeth missing. Half the time you don’t realize what he’s said until he’s done saying it and moved on to the next thing already. I love the moment where after throwing a stick of dynamite at the bad guys he says, “How do you like THEM apples?!”

Rio Bravo is a film that basically all occurs within a short section of town, as the plot hops back and forth between the sheriff’s office and the saloon/hotel. It’s kind of odd, but the way that we become familiar with the surroundings and with the sets begins to feel somewhat comforting after awhile, even though you hardly ever move on from the sets. Another interesting element is the long running time. At 141 minutes, the film doesn’t feel so much epic, as it does lived-in. With the long running time, Hawks is able to develop the dialogue, rhythm and interactive dynamics that are so emblematic of his work. This simply requires time and space and it can’t be rushed or earned any other way. I can’t imagine the film without the breathing spaces, the off-handed comedic moments, and the seemingly innocuous moments that add up to something greater than their parts. The sum of these parts is clearly one of the greatest westerns of all time.

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. 

Hell's Hinges (1916) - Directed by Zwicker/Hart/Smith

William S. Hart was once the biggest bankable star in movies. Starring in a series of 2 reelers at first, he gained fame as being the first great cowboy star, paving the way for the likes of untold actors throughout the decades who would attempt to continue on the tradition of the cowboy. Of course Hart took things to more levels than most of the big screen cowboys…..not only acting, but writing, directing and producing his films as well. Watching his films today provides insight for me into how the movie going public became to be attached to the concept of the western and what it meant back in the 1910’s to see these movies. Hart’s fantastic early cowboy masterpiece, Hell’s Hinges, just might be his greatest film and a great introduction to this era’s concept of the western.

Hell’s Hinges was apparently directed by Charles Zwicker, with uncredited directing credits going to Hart, and Clifford Smith. It’s about a minister named Rev. Bob Henley (Jack Standing) who moves out west to a lawless town with his sister Faith (Clara Williams) in order to help reform the town. In actuality, the Reverend has daydreams thinking about all the dance hall girls he’s going to meet. Once they get to town, the saloonkeeper hires a gunman named Blaze Tracy (Hart) to get rid of the minister. However, in a reversal of fortune, Blaze becomes reformed, as he falls in love with Faith and in turn finds salvation, while Rev. Henley becomes a heathen, falling prey to a local dancing girl, getting drunk, and generally losing all control of himself..... to the point he’s ready to burn down the church! Blaze must stand up for Faith and his newfound salvation by attempting to stave off complete disaster at the hands of the town rabble who are ravenous for sin and destruction.

Hart’s brand of western tends to be tinged heavily with moral implications and a general goodness of humanity on display from his character. Even though he plays a “bad guy” here, he’s clearly the good guy. This positioning can also be seen in The Bargain, another fantastic Hart western from this era. Even though his cowboy hat tends to look a bit like a park ranger hat, I forgive him because he’s got this amazing sequence near the end of Hell's Hinges as he stands in the midst of the church’s doorway, while the entire church behind him is engulfed in flames. It’s a flamboyant, movie star type moment, the hot flames burning all around him while he maintains his cool. It’s without a doubt one of the great bits of action sequence from this era. That’s not to mention the sequences around that moment involving the crowd that has gone out of the control. Recalling Griffith to a degree, the framing of the confusion and the collective insanity of the ravenous crowd is fantastic and remarkably well edited to allow for the action to unfold coherently and with continuity....which is more than I can say for many films released these days.

Hell’s Hinges balances on a precipice between extreme moralism and gleeful abandon and it succeeds for how well it blends the two. It’s remarkable how open the film is to portraying a ribald sense of humor, as we see the Reverend’s day dreams of dancing girls, how he relishes the idea of giving a sermon to these women once he gets the opportunity, and how he is so quickly charmed by a cute woman who throws him the classic line of “Can’t I see you alone sometime, so I can learn more about your work?” Additionally, the conflict between reform and gunfighting, and between religion and sin is played out as effective as in any film I've ever seen. But in Hart’s world, it’s the cowboy, the gunfighter amongst all the heathens and the destructive fire that ironically becomes the savior….while the reverend falls away at the slightest temptation. Though Hart would go on later to make what many consider is his masterpiece, Tumbleweeds (1925), there’s an economy of storyline, a quick wit, and sense for action that is really irresistible in Hell’s Hinges. 

Hombre (1967) - Directed by Martin Ritt

In this revisionist western, we have several key elements coming together. One, is that the film is based on an Elmore Leonard story, and as far as film adaptations of western short stories, you don’t get much better, as 3:10 to Yuma and The Tall T were based on short stories by Leonard as well. There’s also the terrific pairing of director Martin Ritt, with his star Paul Newman, who worked together 5 times in their career, making a few great films together, like The Long Hot Summer and Hud. And by 1967 we also had significant cultural upheaval in terms of civil rights and a shift in mindset on many things regarding equality and justice.....including our historical understanding of the conflict between Native Americans and White Settlers. If Hombre today comes across as a rather angry provocation of sorts, it’s no surprise because of the cultural upheaval in the 1960’s that was spilling over into the world of cinema.

Hombre stars Paul Newman as John Russell, a white man who was raised by Apaches since he was a little boy. There is no explanation how this happened, but we can use our imagination. We meet him as a grown man, living on a reservation and part of the Apache police force. In a bit of odd news, it turns out he has inherited a house from his dead father in a nearby town. He goes there and decides to sell it off, and this puts the single woman, named Jessie (Diane Cilento) who was tending to the estate. In his efforts to leave town via stagecoach, John ends up together with an odd bunch on the stage: the unemployed Jessie; a husband and wife named Dr. Alex and Audra Favor who are involved in reservation agency work; a young married couple, the Blakes, looking to get a new start; a mean spirited man named Cicero (a predatory Richard Boone) traveling alone with an agenda; and the driver, Henry Mendez (Martin Balsam) who is Mexican. During the conversations on the stagecoach, it becomes apparent to the passengers, that John Russell lived with Apaches, which riles up some racism, whereupon they request that he sits up with the driver. He complies to keep things from getting ugly. In the middle of the trip, the stagecoach is held up by a gang of which Cicero is also part of. It turns out that the money they’re after was embezzled from the funds for the Apache reservation by Dr. Favor. Cicero takes Audra Favor with him, but Russell shoots a few of the gang members as they are making off with the loot. Russell grabs the money and heads for the hills. The others, (save Audra who is stuck with the rest of the gang) in an ironic turn follow Russell up into the hills, following him as savior whom they previously shunned.

There is a keen sense of injustice on display from different angles in this film. Certainly the character of John Russell is a fascinating individual, identifying more with Native American culture even though he doesn't quite fit into either culture completely, Native American nor white. His hatred from such abuses as he has seen makes him extremely defensive and on edge, unafraid to speak his mind to the other passengers regarding social and racial injustices perpetrated upon the Native American people. His segregation onto the top of the stagecoach emphasizes the reference points here between Native American/White relations and Black/White relations coming into major focus in the 1950s-60s. Despite his position of social inferiority in the eyes of some whites, Russell is not completely positioned as angelic martyr. He’s a bit mean, and ornery, and has few considerations for people outside of himself and his nation. This gives the film a dark balance to it that keeps it from becoming too preachy and self-serving, allowing the audience time to question how we feel about John Russell. Ritt’s film is clearly grounded in a socially progressive consciousness that also incorporates a significant female perspective. Of particular note is the Jessie character, played wonderfully by Diane Cilento, who is her own provider and isn’t afraid to confront men when they’re being verbally rude and also calling them out when they’re acting weak.

In its own way, this film is a more progressive version of Ford’s Stagecoach. It looks at a cross section of life (albeit a more diverse one than in Stagecoach) and considers the different types of relationships and cultural divides that present themselves under those considerations.  Newman is his usual stone-cold self, mostly employing understatement and curt, mono-tonality in his fine performance. What elevates the film are the other parts: Cilento’s portrayal of the tough Jessie, Barbara Rush as the prim and proper Mrs. Favor, and of particular note, Richard Boone as the macho, misogynist Cicero. His role is what drives the conflict and he’s perfectly nasty here. Ritt’s assured pacing and James Wong Howe’s fantastic scoping and framing are also of particular note. Howe is able to consistently capture just about every single face in the frame at the same time. As a product of its time, Hombre still plays remarkably gritty and edgy today. There’s a surprising frankness here that is refreshing and goes a step further socially than films in the 1950’s did, like Broken Arrow. Despite the fact that the film centers on a white man, it is in fact Russell's whiteness that somehow highlights even more the incessant absurdity of racism. This is one of the great revisionist westerns of the era and is thoroughly entertaining and thought provoking.