The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)

Starring Jimmy Stewart and John Wayne, this is one of John Ford’s later masterpieces.  I love Ford because he brilliantly crafts stories, characters and cinematography in such a way that I come away not quite able to explain why I liked the movie so much.  His craftsmanship is more subtle than Alfred Hitchcock’s and his movies not quite as epic as William Wyler’s.  In an effort to understand why I like Ford movies so much I’ve actually started learning more about film.  Not that I’m in danger of becoming a lofty film critic.

But back to The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.  The story opens with Senator Ransom Stoddard (Jimmy Stewart) returning to the town of Shinbone as an older man.  It’s revealed he is there for the funeral of an old friend, Tom Doniphon (we later find played by John Wayne), who no one there seems to remember.  Most of the movie is a flashback as Rance tells the story of him and Doniphon.

John Wayne is the tough, individualistic cowboy who carries justice on his hip, but is mostly content to live his own life while the weak are at the mercy of stronger men. Jimmy Stewart is the young lawyer recently come from the east to bring law to the uncivilized West.  Stewart is almost contemptible in his physical weakness against the gun-toting outlaws, but admirable in his raw courage and tenacity.  I could write quite a bit about how these avatars of their ideals play out in the movie and how the power (and love interest) shifts, but I won’t spoil it.  Suffice to say, it’s beautifully done.

Even though we’re classifying this movie in the Classic Era, I think it’s what a revisionist film should be.  It explores the genre deeply and movingly.  It’s employs allegory to comment on, and even deconstruct, the western mythos and the movie genre that Ford helped create, though in a reverent – not careless – way.  Neither main character is -as we see above – your typical western hero.  The film was shot in beautiful black and white, even though color had all but taken over by 1962, but almost completely using sets, in contrast to Ford’s earlier sprawling epics.  Much of the film even takes place in the crowded-feeling kitchen of a restaurant among dirty dishes rather than the typical western settings, such as the saloon-brothel.  But it works.

Although I like the art on this Italian poster, it’s completely inaccurate, as Stewart only briefly used a gun (dinky compared to Wayne’s), and he never wore a cowboy hat.

I recently watched The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence a second time and was able to appreciate it even more.  I didn’t get much deep meaning the first time I watched it (and I also know there’s still more to be appreciated if I watch it a third), but I still loved it that first time because it’s a just plain entertaining western.  John Wayne is the epitome of coolness, authority, and presence.  This is the John Wayne image I always had in my head – even before seeing this movie – from his cowboy duds, bandana, and low-hanging gun-belt to the way he calls Stewart’s character “Pilgrim”.  Jimmy Stewart is his stereotypical self as he passionately rants for the ideals of law by the book and civil responsibility. One complaint I’ve read since is both actors were too old for their roles, but, though I myself had the thought initially, I quickly forgot it in the watching, as they are too perfect for what Ford is doing here.

The supporting characters are some of the most entertaining I’ve ever seen, with Lee Marvin as the cruel menace Liberty Valance himself, Vera Miles as the beautiful (but not seductive) love interest, Andy Devine as the cowardly marshal, Edmond O’Brien as the drunk but eloquent newspaper-man, Valance’s two polar-opposite henchmen played by Lee Van Cleef and Strother Martin, and many others.  I love Ford’s cinematography as usual, from the amazing showdown in the street to my favorite shot of John Wayne standing completely in shadows until his brooding face is briefly illuminated as he lights a cigarette.

I think there’s something here for everyone, because it brilliantly balances the old and the new and treats them with respect.  It is multi-layered, but offers just plain good entertainment.

McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971)

McCabe & Mrs. Miller is high on most lists of the greatest westerns of all time, especially as a prime example of the so-called revisionist western.  As a fan of western movies, I would be remiss if I didn’t experience it.  In honesty I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as the sprawling, adventurous westerns that tend to be my favorites, but I had an open mind.  My resulting experience was actually much more disappointing than expected.  In its favor it is well-made and well-acted.  On the other hand, there’s nothing at all to actually like about the film, at least for me.

Setting: a Pacific Northwest mining town in the wet, dark Pacific Northwest winter.  Characters: McCabe is a selfish, amoral idiot who thinks he’s a smooth business-man and Mrs. Miller is a self-important prostitute.  The rest of the characters are solely concerned with drinking and whoring, are whores themselves, or are greedy businessmen.  There is nothing in the story, characters, or environment that strikes me as worthy to be put to screen.  Leonard Cohen’s score would be nice if it were applied to a different movie.  His earthy, slice-of-life songs bring to mind a poetically sympathetic every-man who is perhaps on the path to tragedy.  It is true that the characters are on the path to tragedy, but there is nothing poetic or sympathetic about them.

Out of curiosity I’ve read many reviews in an effort to understand what people are enjoying about this movie.  What are they getting out of it?  I gather that it mainly boils down to this: it eviscerates the western genre, as if the traditional western was pathetic and low-brow, out-moded and needing to be taken to the glue factory.  For instance, McCabe & Mrs. Miller tops Timeout London’s top westerns of all time at #1, and they put it this way: “By the early 1970s, the western had boxed itself into a canyon…. It was only by breaking the western down and reassembling it bit by bit that it could break new ground.”  I disagree, but you gathered that already.  It later goes on, “It’s also an extraordinarily beautiful film. Altman offers a portrait of the west that’s dingy, grimy, hazy, stinky and chilled to the bone.”  However, to me those last two juxtaposed sentences don’t mesh with each other at all.

Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy some revisionist westerns, but McCabe and Mrs. Miller takes revisionism to the extreme.  Wide expanses and beautiful scenery?  Substitute a dark, cold, wet, miserable environment.  Characters who have – or grow to have – nobility or responsibility?  Substitute characters with nothing redeemable or attractive.  A story with meaning or morals?  Substitute a story with nothing to be drawn to, appreciated, or learned from.  Truth is, I have a hard time seeing this as a western at all.

I can understand not enjoying traditional westerns, for whatever reason.  Perhaps many can be seen as formulaic or sappy.  But I feel that to enjoy McCabe & Mrs. Miller requires an active hate for Westerns, which fuels one to sit through two hours of ugliness.  I’m sure this isn’t true, but it’s the only way my tiny brain can rationalize it at the moment.

 

The Ropin’ Fool (1922)

The Ropin’ Fool is a 20-minute silent comedy short starring American cultural icon Will Rogers.  I had heard of the man because of his fame as a comedian and a political satirist, but was amazed to see – upon watching this short – that he was also a world-class roper.  In fact, as I learned, his extraordinary lariat skills were what brought him to fame on vaudeville in the first place.

Ropin’ Fool is little more than an excuse to show off these skills, but what skills they are!  This video just oozes with fun as he ropes everything from hats to cats, and especially horses, riders and, of course, the bad guy at the end.  Add to that the incredible slo-mo photography which was extremely innovative for the time (and still looks amazing today) and you have something worthy of the time of any western fan.  There’s even a monkey.

As my first contribution to “Making Sense of the West” I felt like a 20-minute silent short might be an odd choice.  I might not be exactly hitting the ground running.  But in many ways it exemplifies the fun that we find in westerns.  Moreover, it brings to the forefront another of the tools of the old west.  In the vast majority of westerns the revolver is the primary tool of the hero’s (and villain’s) trade, and being a fan of these movies and TV shows I have no beef with this.  But it’s kind of refreshing to see The Ropin’ Fool, a film with no guns, and the all-but-forgotten lasso as our man’s instrument.

Do yourself a favor and treat yourself.  You can watch it on Archive.org at the link below.

https://archive.org/details/theropinfool

Will Rogers was born in 1879 and worked as a cowboy.  He was as close to the old west as any actor we’re likely to see.