Sergeant York January 28, 2007
Posted by clydefro in : Classic Films, 1940s , trackback
It seems there are two camps regarding Sergeant York
Like Alvin York, I was born and raised in small town Tennessee and, despite my upbringing occurring nearly a century after his, I can still recognize much of the community we see in Sergeant York. No, I’ve never referred to cattle as “beef critters” before and my grammar and speech may be more easily deciphered than the characters in the film, but I think the basic essence is displayed fairly. This is in refreshing contrast to the treatment of the Southern United States on film in so many other movies and television shows. It’s somewhat difficult, even sixty-five years later, to come up with many portraits of the South that do not include ridicule, inaccuracy or the Tennessee Williams-ization of the region. The people of the Appalachian area portrayed in Hawks’ film have faced even more disrespect over time, in the form of everything from Ma and Pa Kettle to The Beverly Hillbillies.
The folksy, salt of the earth people that populate Sergeant York are special in film history because they are not marginalized or looked down upon for being ignorant of other societies. The arrival of the state newspaper is awaited for local news mentions instead of the glaring front page story on the war in Europe because, to the small corner of the world inhabited by these characters, Cordell Hull is more pertinent than Kaiser Wilhelm. When York finally lands in the military, his unfamiliarity with city things such as a subway and his status as a conscientious objector make him a target for derision. York takes it good-naturedly though, and proves his worth as a skilled marksman, immediately elevating both his rank and position among the other soldiers. This is another telling example of the film celebrating York’s country way of life instead of exploiting or mocking it.
The refusal to patronize or denigrate the people of Pall Mall, York’s hometown, is a big reason I find Sergeant York so charming. In telling the story of the most decorated American soldier of World War I, Hawks was forced by necessity to strictly limit the amount of time spent on battle and war related scenes. York himself was incredibly reluctant to even have his story made into a movie and, after finally agreeing with the condition that Gary Cooper play him, wanted the focus to be away from his military heroics. Thus it’s not surprising that most of the film takes place in Tennessee and centers on York, his family and the other townsfolk. The story runs through York’s rebellious young adulthood, into his maturity and (fictionalized) introduction to devout religion, and, finally, climaxes with his intial refusal to be drafted and eventual heroism in France.
The overt use of York’s story as propaganda for support of the United States entering World War II is unavoidable in the film and must be mentioned. I do enjoy certain parts of the film more than others, and prefer to mentally separate the call to arms portion in which York is called in to his superior’s office and told to go home for ten days and decide if he wants to continue with the military. I don’t care for that scene (though the famous image of him on the hill with his hound, searching for answers in an American history book and the Bible is movingly done), but it doesn’t ruin the movie for me. I suppose propaganda can be justified at times, but it’s a slippery enough slope that I’d prefer to not have my films tread. Regardless, Sergeant York must be looked at through 1941 lenses as well and it’s difficult to fault its propaganda in comparison to something like Triumph of the Will.
As for those reluctant to place Sergeant York among Hawks’ best films, I think it’s a little wrongheaded, but perhaps unsurprising. Hawks, known for his exceptional versatility, also made Ball of Fire with Gary Cooper in 1941 and had just finished Bringing Up Baby and Only Angels Have Wings the two previous years. Without getting too deep into overlapping themes or tenets found in the director’s body of work, I think his contribution to Sergeant York was vital to the film’s success. His ability to perfectly balance the rural atmosphere with the striking war scenes allows the film to succeed where it could have easily failed miserably in the hands of perhaps any other director in Hollywood at the time. The fact that neither feels clumsy or forced, with a perfect shift in tone when necessary, is surely a testament to Hawks’ unrivaled success in many different genres.
While it doesn’t seem surprising that Sergeant York was nominated for eleven Academy Awards and won two, it is a little shocking that it was the only nomination Hawks ever received. It was also the only time Walter Brennan, a three-time winner, was nominated and subsequently lost the award. Also nominated was Margaret Wycherly, who brought an impressive weariness to the role of Alvin’s mother. The British stage actress would later play “Ma Jarrett” to James Cagney in White Heat. It’s Cooper, though, who brings Alvin York and his remarkable story to life. He won his first Oscar for the role and it’s difficult to imagine the film succeeding without his performance. As I watched the movie, I kept finding myself amazed at how well and believable he delivered his lines. It wasn’t so much the accent as the naturalness he brought to the unique way people from the rural and mountainous region spoke.
As a child, even seventy years after York’s exploits, I associated him with other larger than life, almost mythical, Tennessee folk heroes like Davy Crockett and Casey Jones. I believe my first time watching Sergeant York was actually in one of my elementary school classes. It’s especially satisfying to watch the film again, nearly twenty years later, and still be proud of someone from my home state. We all bring our own prejudices and values to anything we watch, but the nostalgic fondness I have for Sergeant York is rare for me personally. I don’t believe one needs to have a similar attachment for the film to be an enjoyable experience. It’s not a perfect film and I can mostly understand how some might have disdain for it, but, regardless, I think it works beautifully as a simple story of an ordinary man’s extraordinary actions.
Comments»
You’re a man of admirable taste clydefro and no little perception; Sergeant York is by any standards a superb piece of cinema with a truly deserved Oscar winning performance at the heart.
I loved it as a child, I love it now. Like the mythic York, it comes from purer times, untainted by cynicism, the definitions of good and evil clearly deliniated. A word for the score, by the way - another classic from Max Steiner.
That’s nice work - again.
Thank you. I truly appreciate your comments. I think that’s a good point about there being no question in the film as to good and evil. The crisis of conscience is never about whether military action is justified against a particular enemy, but only if the killing of another human is ever acceptable. Even though it somewhat betrays my own sense of things, I can’t fault those ideas given the situation at the time and the urgency of needed action. Of course, the fear then goes to the power of propaganda being abused but that’s a whole different can of worms.
I’ve read the true history of Alvin York, and even though the film is somewhat romanticised, it’s true to the spirit of his story. Everytime I watch it, it makes me want to move to the Pall Mall, Tennessee of the movie, even though I know that place never existed as shown in the movie. From what I’ve read though, it’s still a small Cumberland village, and the pictures I’ve seen of the area-Fentress County-are beautiful. I still want to live there.