Becoming John Ford January 2, 2008
Posted by John Hodson in : Documentary, Film & DVD Reviews, About John Ford , 5 commentsWho was John Ford?
Artist and artisan, romantic and misanthrope, a loyal friend who could be cold-heart mean to those closest to him, an intellectual who wrapped himself in the cloak of a clod, a liberal with hawkish tendencies, a director to whom home and family were central motifs, yet who couldn’t cope with family life, could not wait to get away from home.
And hide himself behind the cameras.
John Ford: “The truth about myself is nobody’s business but my own.”
Nobody, not any of the great Ford biographers and scholars (Joe McBride’s Searching For John Ford, and the Andrew Sarris tome The John Ford Movie Mystery sum up the hopelessness of the task in their titles), his family, the members of his ’stock company’, his close friends, have revealed the essence of ‘Pappy’, the secret of just who Ford really was, and more importantly perhaps, why.
Of course, there are theories and McBride’s mighty biography, maybe more than most, postulates a good handful of them. But at the end, the real John Martin Feeney, inveterate teller of tall tales, inventions and outright lies, refuses to stand up, and any impression we grab at seems to run through our fingers like fine sand. There appears to be no simple truth to tell; we print the legend. Ford would have lapped it up.
Nick Redman’s new documentary, Becoming John Ford (U.S.; R1 DVD), ostensively tells the story of the evolution of ‘A John Ford Picture’, and the title gives hope that some of the many unanswered questions will be addressed. Essentially, it’s the story of Ford’s tenure at Fox / 20th Century Fox and the pictures he made under the stewardship of producer Darryl F. Zanuck; we learn a little of Ford’s eponymous ‘becoming’, but the core conundrum remains. A tightly wound Gordian knot that simply deflects every investigative sword blow.
John Ford: “It’s no use asking me to talk about art. I’m a journeyman director, traffic cop in front of the camera. If I had my way, every morning of my life, I’d be behind that camera at nine o’clock, waiting for the boys to roll ‘em. I’m a picture man.”
Orson Welles: “Jack had chips on his shoulders like epaulettes.”
Not that there’s any attempt to disguise the problem. At one point, screenwriter Lem Dobbs says, almost in exasperation: “All this jibber-jabber about John Ford and talking about his films, and all the books that have been written, and the essays and articles in Cahiers du Cinéma; you know it’s nonsense in the end because it doesn’t ever explain anything.”
For the ‘jibber-jabber’, Redman has lined up an impressive array of ‘Fordians’ and film historians - Dobbs, Joe McBride, James d’Arc, Rudy Behlmer, Janet Bergstrom, Jean-Christophe Jeuffre - plus Peter Fonda and Tom Mankiewicz. For the ‘leads’, a pair of writer / directors: Walter Hill, a lifelong Ford fan, provides the off-screen voice of the Old Man himself, gruff and no nonsense, Ron Shelton is a business like, if somewhat snippy, Zanuck.
What we get in a little over 93 minutes is a fairly rapid run-through of Ford’s early years at Universal, how he teamed up with Harry Carey to establish himself as ‘a director of westerns’, signed an exclusive deal with William Fox, and though he’d been making pictures some seven years made the film world sit up and take notice with The Iron Horse in 1924. When Fox signed the German director F.W. Murnau, proclaiming him to be an ‘artist of the cinema’, Ford gaped enviously at Sunrise and declared it the best film he’d ever seen. For several years, he aped European expressionist cinema, until he found a voice all his own and prop-man, extra, storyteller, journeyman, the guy who ‘had an eye for composition’, the artist, the genius, became John Ford.
Lem Dobbs: “If there is genius in the system, then Ford was the genius within that system.”
John Ford: “Irish and genius don’t mix well.”
It is not until Fox merges with Zanuck’s 20th Century Pictures in 1935, and genius meets genius, that we get to the meat of the story. Zanuck would later proclaim Ford as the best of directors, a true master (Ford’s response was typical: ‘That’s horseshit’), while Ford, untypically, reciprocated, praising Zanuck as a terrific cutter, adding that as a producer: “Darryl’s a genius…head and shoulders above the rest.”
Zanuck himself said that he would ‘cut through the hokum’, that he ‘believed in comedy but not farce’, the assumption being that he stymied some of Ford’s proclivities for humour that could be considered too broad, or for meandering from the essentials of the story. Ford trusted him enough to give him carte blanche in the editing room, though he’d long perfected the technique of cutting in the camera, leaving barely enough trims to let anyone stray too far from his vision.
They proved a formidable partnership; Zanuck who just loved Americana, and the red, white and blue director who was born to portray the history of his country in film after film.
Though Ford railed against studio interference, claiming Steamboat Round The Bend could have been a ‘great picture’ but for “the new man coming in and wanting to show off”, he and Zanuck quickly came to form a close and mutually beneficial alliance. Ford’s throwaway comment that he shot the moving military funeral scene in Wee Willie Winkie on the spur of the moment, belies the truth. It was, in fact, Zanuck’s flash of inspiration during discussions the previous night. And, of course, it was Zanuck himself who put Ford at the wheel of the Shirley Temple vehicle, a film for which, Joe McBride insists, Ford should have received an Oscar, and not for The Informer, claiming the latter the inferior work.
Lem Dobbs: “The measure of an artist is the level of interference they are able to transcend.”
Joseph McBride: “He was a tyrant, he was a sadist. The John Ford family, it’s sort of like a bunch of abused children, and an abusive father. And yet they were devoted to him.”
Zanuck was never a ‘wannabee’ director, instead he proved a motivational figure, allowing Ford a high degree of artistic freedom. Together they made their studio piles of money, and their respective mantles were piled high with awards. From The Prisoner of Shark Island, to Young Mr Lincoln, Drums Along The Mohawk and The Grapes of Wrath, Ford and Zanuck would continue with America’s story. Or, rather, a version of it.
Rudy Behlmer insists The Prisoner of Shark Island is historically accurate. It’s not, but it doesn’t matter; as Bergstrom says, it was the French who first pointed out that what Ford was doing was not portraying reality, but America’s great mythology. Print the legend was this story teller’s credo.
Darryl F. Zanuck: “I have seen the first rushes and they look great.”
John Ford: “Boys; the front office like the rushes. There must be something wrong. We’ll have to keep shooting until we find out what it is…”
There are hints that, even before My Darling Clementine, Zanuck and Ford banged heads. It was Zanuck’s idea to shoot a more optimistic ending to The Grapes of Wrath, and when Ford slowed the tempo during Drums Along The Mohawk, Zanuck complained it was ’too draggy’ adding tersely “They are called moving pictures because they move.” I’ve long pondered just how much Zanuck influenced ‘Drums’, perhaps excising some of what he considered Ford’s longueurs, a few ’grace notes’, but that’s Becoming John Ford’s only clue.
Both Zanuck and Ford served their country during wartime; their immediate post-conflict collaboration at Fox proved to be possibly the most contentious. It was Zanuck’s insistence to shoot the kiss to end My Darling Clementine, simply because preview audiences demanded one. This wasn’t his only change, however; edits were made to speed up the action and more music added to underscore certain sequences. Ford was distraught. James d’Arc says he prefers Zanuck’s final edit, yet the extant preview cut is (available on Fox’s current DVD of the film), to my mind, the far superior version - either way, it was the Zanuck / Ford valediction.
For those new to Ford’s world, Becoming John Ford provides a wealth of information of Ford’s Fox years, though there’s so much more to tell. Then again, what are libraries for? The documentary is available to buy on DVD on it’s own, but it works best if you already have a number of the films discussed on your shelves, or if you buy it as part of the Essential John Ford Collection, a DVD sub-set of the gargantuan Ford at Fox box - even at an hour and a half, there are precious few clips of any length.
John Ford: “Kiss her on the mouth, man; put some passion into it!”
Actor: “But Mr Ford, she’s playing my daughter…”
For dyed-in-the-wool Ford fans, there’s little here that they won’t have read or heard before, though there are some nuggets; Mankowicz tells of a fresh faced Robert Wagner overhearing Ford discussing a problem with his cameraman on What Price Glory. Thinking he would bring an apple to the teacher, the naive Wagner piped up: “I have an idea Mr Ford…” He got no further because his director decked him.
There are also some interesting opinions, particularly from Dobbs who says that Howard Hawks’ heroes were all about professionalism, getting the job done, Walsh’s heroes were all adventurers, while Ford’s were all about tradition. Dobbs says that ‘tradition’ is the most interesting, and I, not surprisingly as a card carrying Ford fan, would strongly agree.
It’s Dobbs who also asks - and here we are back to our problem again - “How did this crude, ugly man in many respects, achieve a body of work of surpassing beauty and poetry and depth and complexity?” McBride says that the mask Ford wore was part of his “devious, Irish self-protection”, while d’Arc claims that My Darling Clementine is worth another look for evidence. Victor Mature’s Doc Holliday can, he argues, be read as Ford’s on-screen doppelganger, a man who is fearful of expressing his true feelings, slightly afraid of woman and relationships, who astonishes all when he quotes a Shakespeare soliloquy word for word. The big pointer, says d’Arc, is the handkerchief that he continually presses to his mouth, the last thing that Holliday releases as he falls into the dirt. It is an interesting theory.
Peter Fonda, doing a passable impression of the ‘Duke’, relates how John Wayne told him of Ford’s benders on board his beloved yacht Araner, how he would crawl inside a sleeping bag in the main salon, drink himself into oblivion, lie in his own excretia for days. It would be up to two of the biggest stars in Hollywood, Wayne and Fonda’s father Henry - both men owing their careers to ‘Pappy’ - to cover their noses, haul him out and clean him up. Greater love hath no man; but does it betray an unbearable level of self-loathing that Ford would abuse himself in this manner? If it does, why? Why John Ford…and the circle is complete.
Shot in a mixture of colour and monochrome and presented in a ratio of 1:33.1 - the better to accomodate the film clips - Becoming John Ford is an interesting and professionally executed documentary, each talking head interviewed in situ as if they were in a cinema watching a Ford picture and gossiping on it and it’s author, the low flicker of film through projector as a background. Christopher Caliendo’s unobstrusive score is rather nice and Redman’s direction is neat and generally unflashy; at least it seems he had a budget to work on here, unlike the impoverished offerings in Warner’s Peckinpah box set.
Jean-Christophe Jeuffre: “John Ford’s pictures represent the eternal soul and spirit of America.”
The extras include Ford’s colour 16mm documentary The Battle of Midway, an 18 minute tribute to the men who fought off the Japanese fleet to take this strategic Pacific Ocean island. Ford said that if the camera shakes - and it does, frequently - it’s not for effect, it is because shells were exploding at his feet. Watching it today is still a pretty emotional and visceral experience; quite how it affected wartime cinema audiences I can only guess. The Battle of Midway, narrated by Donald Crisp, with the voices of Henry Fonda, Jane Darwell and Irving Pichel, is in very good condition, as is the additional ‘Midway’ footage, also included in the extras.
You’ll also find the shortened version of Gregg Toland’s (who was also part of Ford’s wartime film unit) December 7th, which is in rather less fine fettle (the full version is available on DVD from VCI Video), besides displaying the kind of queasy wartime racism that ‘Midway’ eschews.
Rounding off the wartime shorts is the eight minutes long Torpedo Squadron, filmed without narration using footage from Ford’s time shooting ‘Midway’; an unembriodered, save for patriotic music, memorial to USN Torpedo Squadron 8, most of whom died during the fighting. I can barely watch this kind of stuff without shedding a tear, which marks me, not a veteran of course, but as the son of a family that served their country and paid the price.
Finally, there are vintage program galleries for The Iron Horse and Four Sons (beautifully reproduced in the large Ford at Fox box), pressbook galleries for six more Ford at Fox titles, plus advertising and stills galleries for many more. Sound comes in English stereo, with English, French and Spanish subtitles.
Last words from John Ford himself, Walter Hill lowering his voice into a conspiratorial tone:
“Y’know, I don’t want this to get out; I posed as an illiterate.
“Auditory imagery; the chance to project symphonic qualities for the creation and holding of a mood, so that pictures will no longer be limited to pure and simple narrative for material.
“Oh, I like talking pictures…”
Ford at Fox; The Wait is Almost Over… November 30, 2007
Posted by John Hodson in : DVD News & Info, About John Ford , 1 comment so farThe wait is almost over.
My most anticipated release of 2007 is only a few days from entering the maw of the U.S. postal system. From there - for reasons best known to the etailer - it will travel to Sweden, across Europe, and thence to Blightly, into the hands of The Royal Mail (shudder…). HMC&E may (well, almost surely) also nab it, but, Customs charge, and RM ransom, be damned - I will at last own the 24 films, the rather hefty looking book and the rest of the paraphernalia that comprises Ford at Fox.
I’m like a kid that cannot wait for Christmas. I can hardly stand these final few days before this humongous set is mine; until then I live vicariously on the reports and reviews of others.
You’ll find details of the set in this earlier post, but as the great day approaches more information is emerging. Dave Kehr has got at least some of his review discs, and I’m heartened by his comments, posted in response to that blog entry, on the condition of Drums Along The Mohawk…
“…the transfer of “Drums Along the Mohawk” in the Ford box is indeed from new Film Foundation restoration. I don’t know what laboratory magic they worked to get around the loss of the original elements, but it looks very, very good.”
‘Drums’ is a Ford film that rarely gets the plaudits of Pappy’s breath-taking Fox output that immediately preceded and succeeded it, yet I think it is something of a miracle, even catalogued as a minor one, with some standout (typically Fordian) scenes and superb three-strip colour (it was Ford’s first colour picture) cinematography. Yes, it is newly restored - huzzah!
Over at DVD Beaver, Gary Tooze has his set and has posted some mouth-watering pictures here. He has also undertaken what promises to be a marathon review process, starting by comparing the BFI and Fox iterations of The Iron Horse here. Purty ain’t it?
I’ve no idea how true this is, but I read somewhere on the ‘net that Fox turned up a suitable print of the lengthier U.S. version 
of the The Iron Horse at the eleventh hour, making the DVD of Ford’s silent epic into a two discer after the unique packaging for Ford at Fox had been designed (I’ve also read, it has to be said, it was late added extras that pushed it to two discs - take your pick). It is the U.S. version of The Iron Horse, goes the story, which has been included in the set at the expense of Allan Dwan’s Frontier Marshall. After seeing the Beaver’s ‘caps, the truth - or otherwise - of those web rumours notwidthstanding, it underlines the fact that Fox made the right choice.
A shame about Dwan’s film, but those in the know assure us that Fox has something up their sleeve for purchasers of Ford at Fox; if not, the only way to get at Frontier Marshall, the script for which also forms the basis of My Darling Clementine, is to buy one of the three subsets on offer from Fox, and that will surely leave a sour taste in the mouths of those who have made a hefty financial commitment by buying the (almost) full set. I know several purchasers of the set who did so, not simply because they are Ford fans, but because they admired Fox’s ambition, their chutzpah, in considering this set at all, and wished to demonstrate their support for this - and hopefully similar projects - in the most tangible way possible. This from the L.A. Times:
…Good supplementary features stand as works of film history and scholarship, and some of the most valuable extras are being produced for older movies. The year’s most ambitious DVD set, the mammoth Ford at Fox box (out Dec. 4), surveys the 32-year career of the director John Ford at Twentieth Century Fox. “It’s film school in a box,” said Richard Ashton, director of classics at Fox Home Entertainment, who commissioned a new documentary by historian Nick Redmond, focusing on Ford’s relationship with studio czar Darryl F. Zanuck.
… in the case of “Ford at Fox,” entire films are being made available to viewers for the first time. Of the 24 titles in the box, 18 are new to DVD. If the Ford set does well, it could inspire the studio to dig deeper into the vaults, Ashton said, citing such master filmmakers as Frank Borzage, F.W. Murnau and Fritz Lang, all of whom had fruitful stints at Fox…
For those of you living in the U.S., to coincide with Ford at Fox, the TCM channel is celebrating the release of the set with three days of programming - called (what else?) Ford at Fox - on Dec. 9, 10 and 11; details here. There is, before you ask dear reader, no chance of the British version of TCM following suit.
Keep a watchful eye on DVD Beaver this weekend; more reviews, lots more screencaps, are on their way. I’ll certainly be devouring every last detail, the news no doubt stoking up the anticipation almost beyond the point that this mortal man can endure. *Sigh*.
Meanwhile, I’ll be drumming my fingers, clicking constantly on my order history over at Barnes & Noble, urging, by sheer will, my order page to be updated and for my copy of Ford at Fox to switch to ’shipped’. Come on dammit!
Did I mention that I can’t wait?
What Price John Ford? September 5, 2007
Posted by John Hodson in : DVD News & Info, About John Ford , 2 commentsThe news broke in New York Times columnist Dave Kehr’s blog some while ago; across ‘The Pond’, Fox is planning a quite spectacular film box set in tribute to one of the 20th century’s true giants of cinema, titled The Ford at Fox Collection.
Fox has taken a leaf out of Warners ‘Big Book of Marketing’ and began this drip feed of information back in June, a month later and at the new Fox Studio Classics site, up popped a review of The Iron Horse, one of the crown jewels of the set, which will apparently boast a score by Christopher Caliendo, the chap responsible for rescoring Peckinpah’s Major Dundee for Sony.
Now, today, we found out more details, courtesy of Movies Unlimited:
FORD HAD A BETTER IDEA: The diverse works of the great John Ford are on view in an incredible schedule of releases from Fox Video called The Ford At Fox Collection. This celebration of the master director’s labors for the studio will bring us many flicks from his folio that have never before surfaced in any home video format, much less on DVD.Most people know John Ford as the director behind such John Wayne classics as Stagecoach, Fort Apache, The Searchers, and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. But “Pappy’s” career encompassed several decades, beginning in the silent era. He worked on all sorts of films in all genres, which is evidenced in this impressive collection.
The Essential John Ford includes the currently available The Grapes Of Wrath, How Green Was My Valley, My Darling Clementine, and Drums Along The Mohawk, as well as the new documentary Becoming John Ford.
John Ford’s American Comedies includes Doctor Bull (1933), with Will Rogers as a country doctor whose affair with a widow causes waves in the area; and Judge Priest (1934), with Will as a judge trying to help his nephew find a girl and preside over a big case at the same time. When Willie Comes Marching Home(1950) offers Dan Dailey as a war hero whose reassignment to his hometown cause problems; and the prison break comedy-drama Up The River (1930) offers very early career showcases for Spencer Tracy and Humphrey Bogart. The previously available What Price Glory? and Steamboat ‘Round The Bend are also included.
John Ford’s Silent Epics includes Four Sons (1928), about how war affects a Bavarian mother and her quartet of boys; The Iron Horse (1924), a thrilling tale of building a railroad and a son’s vengeance for his father’s murder; 3 Bad Men (1926), where a trio of outlaws help a young woman when her father is killed; Hangman’s House (1928), a tale of a no-nonsense judge who meddles in his family’s affairs (look closely for John Wayne!); and Just Pals (1920), with cowboy star Buck Jones in a change-of-pace role as a ne’er-do-well who befriends a young boy who has been thrown off a freight train.
When Willie Comes Marching Home, The Iron Horse, Hangman’s House, 3 Bad Men, and Up The River will be available individually, as well as The Prisoner Of Shark Island (1936), centering on the doctor (Warner Baxter) who treated Lincoln assassin John Wilkes Booth, and his ordeals in prison; Pilgrimage (1933), in which a mother who disapproves of her son’s marriage enlists him in the army with disastrous results; and Born Reckless (1930), starring Edmund Lowe as the gangster who takes military service over a jail term and becomes a war hero.
The big shebang, however, is the voluminous Ford At Fox: Gift Set. ALL of the aforementioned Ford films are included, PLUS the following: The currently available Young Mr. Lincoln; Tobacco Road (1941), Erskine Caldwell’s rustic satire; the Shirley Temple vehicle Wee Willie Winkie (1937); the Madeleine Carroll costumer The World Moves On (1934); the WWI submarine saga Seas Beneath (1931); and the Loretta Young-David Niven adventure Four Men And A Prayer (1938). For good measure, you’ll be able to compare My Darling Clementine to Frontier Marshal (1939), Allan Dwan’s take on the Wyatt Earp legend starring Randolph Scott. These 25 films are contained on 20 DVDs in their own screw-bound folder. You’ll also get a hardback 172-page book, reproductions of souvenir books for The Iron Horse and Four Sons, and a separately packaged Becoming John Ford documentary, all packaged in a heavy duty vinyl box. This is easily one of the most impressive DVD packages of the year, if not ever!
I suspect that there are still many more goodies to be uncovered as Fox very sensibly, and cleverly, stokes up the anticipation of a legion of Ford fans; here’s hoping the reality meets those expectations. Ever the optimist, I’m willing to bet that Nick Redman’s feature length documentary, Becoming John Ford, will more than make up for his impoverished efforts in last year’s Sam Peckinpah boxset as Fox strives to set a new benchmark for quality, and we are sure to hear of more extra features in the coming weeks. Make no bones, though no official word has come on a final price for any of these titles (Dave Kehr reported the full box to be $299.98, but that could change), this will be an expensive set, relatively speaking, should the ‘big shebang’ be your choice. But while it involves duplicating several titles already sitting proudly on my shelves, this Ford fan is salivating at the prospect. It’s a gamble by Fox (offset by their decision to market the whole in subsets and single releases), should it pay off, there’s the dizzying prospect of other high end, cineaste targeted sets to come.
I’m saving my pennies even as I type…what price John Ford indeed?
Meanwhile for fans in the U.K., rights and other issues will no doubt mean that this set as announced above will not be making its way over here. In meagre compensation, Fox U.K. has announced a new line of film box sets - ‘Studio Stars’ - one of which will be devoted to Gene Tierney, inside the box will be Ford’s Tobacco Road, plus Thunder Birds, Laura, Leave Her To Heaven and The Ghost and Mrs Muir. By the way, other ‘Studio Stars’ sets will apparently be devoted to Gregory Peck and Tyrone Power, John Wayne, Marlon Brando, Elvis Presley and Annette Funicello, though I would hazard a guess that each will involve a deal of double-dipping to get at the one or two titles that have been previously unreleased.
On October first in the U.K. Fox will release a John Ford Collection, comprising of three previously released titles The Grapes of Wrath, My Darling Clementine and The Horse Soldiers, the latter included under Fox’s marketing deal with MGM. And Universal jumps in on the act on November 5 with the John Ford Director’s Collection: The Informer, The Fugitive, Mary Of Scotland, and Wagon Master.
Whoa, you might (or might not) say, The Fugitive and Wagon Master? However, dear reader, I would remind you that this is Universal U.K. we are talking about, whose every single R2 release of films held and released by Warners in R1 has been outshone by their U.S. equivalents (don’t expect transfers to equal the R1 The Informer or Mary of Scotland), and to whom quality can sometimes be a stranger. Oddly, and frustratingly, enough in the U.S., Universal is becoming one of the more reliable distributors of film on DVD with some quite excellent transfers in the last couple of years. While we should not prejudge, my money is on the U.K. leopard simply not changing it’s spots. We do, though, live in hope. Don’t expect any worthwhile extras in either box.
*September 6 update; full details on The Ford At Fox Collection have now been posted at the Fox Studio Classics website here.
More Things To Come?
A couple of snippets while I’m here; Criterion has admitted officially that they now hold the rights to such Alexander Korda titles as Things to Come, Rembrandt, The Private Life of Henry VIII, The Lion Has Wings and Lady Hamilton and will be getting to them ‘at some point’. As much as I admired Network’s recent R2 Things To Come SE, with it’s much improved transfer over the previous DDHE edition, and excellent extras, I can’t help wondering what else can be teased out by Criterion, especially with a view to the soundtrack and Arthur Bliss’s wonderful score.
One Korda film that is definitely coming from Criterion however is the sumptuous The Thief of Bagdad which is on their 2008 schedule; now that is a truly lip-smacking prospect.
I understand that there’s good news for fans of the aforementioned DD Home Entertainment; the company went into administration recently just as their titles from the licensing deal with Sony / Columbia - including the Special Edition of Night of The Demon and that slate of Hammer films I mentioned earlier in the year - were going into production. DDHE has since been rescued by the Simply Media Group and hopes to be back up and running at the end of this month as Simply Home Entertainment. What is still uncertain is the status of that now stalled licensing deal, and the deal DDHE held with Granada Ventures, which is thought to have ended the moment administrators took over.
I’m keeping both fingers and toes crossed, if only for Ford’s Gideon’s Day.
Finally, it’s probably apt I leave you with a John Ford bargain. They’ve also been rather troubled recently, but the signs are good that they are getting back on an even keel - CD Wow is selling the excellent Masters of Cinema disc of John Ford’s The Prisoner of Shark Island for only £6.99 if you use the DVD Forums affiliated link I’ve provided; a beautiful transfer with excellent extras, it’s well worth it, even if the film is part of that humongous Fox box. In fact, use the link and type ‘Masters of Cinema’ into their search box, up will pop a whole raft of bargains. Happy hunting!
John Ford’s Indian Summer… September 23, 2006
Posted by John Hodson in : Film & DVD Reviews, About John Ford, Westerns , 5 commentsSergeant Rutledge & Cheyenne Autumn
Like the man, John Ford’s politics are…complicated. Just when you think you have Pappy pegged as a left-leaning liberal, then you read of his backing for politicians with the most venal right wing policies. How do you square that with many of his films? How could the author of The Grapes of Wrath, Young Mr Lincoln, The Prisoner of Shark Island, Steamboat Round The Bend, Sergeant Rutledge and Cheyenne Autumn vote for Goldwater and Nixon?
This man, capable of great art, could also be capable of great cruelty; Sergeant Rutledge might be a piece of liberal cinema, but it didn’t stop Ford from telling his lead actor to go and ‘eat with the niggers’ during a filming break.
What was the point? Was it a typically offensive put-down, or was Ford trying to get his company of actors, and Woody Strode in particular, into the right frame of mind with a piece of calculated, nasty, but all too real, racism. As said, like his politics, Ford was a complex human being.
After having viewed Sergeant Rutledge, the story of a black cavalry sergeant on trial for his life, for the first time in, well, God knows how long, and the first time in OAR, I’m still trying to make sense of what I saw, and I’ll probably have to watch it again before I can express anything anywhere near coherent about it. But I’m struggling - really struggling - to come to terms with that last shot in the courtroom.
Without giving the game away to anyone who has yet to see it, what I’d seen to that point was a frankly amazing piece of work, not just given the director, but the times in which it was made. Woody Strode is immense, in every sense, striding the film like the ‘Captain Buffalo’ he is. Quoting from Strode’s autobiography, Ford biographer Joe McBride describes the genuine emotions Strode expresses during his cross-examination scene, and indeed the electricity of these emotions are there for all to see and feel, transmitted across every single frame, enough to make our muscles tense and, for this viewer, to sob out loud with him. It’s not acting; Strode is living the part, and he wasn’t even nominated for Oscar. For shame.
Essentially a courtroom drama, Sergeant Rutledge doesn’t make any great use of the Monument Valley exterior locations, and the framing seems to be a little cramped at times (the transfer on the Warners R1 is also a mite flat, but I can live with it), perhaps Ford was looking for claustrophobia in his film, or maybe it’s those vistas from The Searchers that make it pale by comparison. Unlike that film, and Cheyenne Autumn, the Valley isn’t there to give a sense of great vastness, of the magnitude of Ethan’s task, the isolation of the settlers, or the march through a desolate landscape of a people who were alone and virtually friendless in a country that had been theirs, and theirs alone, for centuries
Sergeant Rutledge is a film with a great moral core, topped with a massively dignified central performance from Strode and his fellow black actors. The rest of the cast, Jeffrey Hunter in particular, barely put a foot wrong…until the wonderful Billie Burke (her final screen role) is given that fatal last courtroom line, and like the mistimed comedy ending of Two Rode Together, my jaw drops open, and my head whirls with a mix of emotions. I must watch it again, and soon.
Cheyenne Autumn has been described as Ford’s apology to the American Indian. The old man himself proffered it as the first western he had filmed from their perspective, but Ford had long been sympathetic to them; from his early days filming in Monument Valley, he had made many friends among the indigenous Navajo and employed them - to their amusement - playing a variety of tribes, and (legend has it) telling dirty jokes whenever a character was required to speak ‘Comanche’, ‘Apache’ or ‘Cheyenne’. Ford and the Navajo embraced each other to the extent that during one hard winter, the old man, dubbed Natani Nez (’Tall Leader’) by the tribe, organised air drops of food and supplies.
In Fort Apache, the slaughter of the cavalry is undertaken reluctantly by Cochise, his shoulders slumping when Owen Thursday gives him no other option. Nathan Brittles is a paternal figure both to his men and the Indians in She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, an old man unwilling to shed any blood, and in Rio Grande, the Indians are off the reservation on the warpath after being whipped up into a ‘holy war’ by aggressive tribal leaders (what they are being aggressive about we can only guess, however). In The Searchers, Scar is given just as much justification for his hatred of whites as Ethan is for his psychotic hatred of all Indians.
But in Cheyenne Autumn, Ford’s last western, we finally see history from the Indians’ point of view; just why they were unwilling to share their land with the greedy, lying, money grabbing, racist white settlers, why they couldn’t trust the word of men who broke treaty after treaty, who embraced a policy of genocide, both overtly and covertly, standing by the sidelines as famine and disease achieved what lance, sabre and the bullet could not.
Cheyenne Autumn was panned on release as being overlong and dull. Watching it now, it stands as being one of Ford’s crown jewels. Filmed by Bill Clothier in glorious Super Panavision, the Monument Valley locations are simply stunning (and you can have fun spotting the sites where the old man had planted his cameras many times before).
The story - a ‘footnote in history’ Widmark’s Captain Thomas Archer chides us at the start of his narration - is simple. Based on real tragedies, and Mari Sandoz’s novel, the Cheyenne endure a 1,500 miles march from their south west desert reservation - where nearly three-quarters of the original 1,000 men, women and children had died - in a bid to return to their lushly verdant, traditional hunting grounds at Yellowstone. Ford shows this immensely proud warrior tribe preferring death on a Trail of Tears rather than a lingering annihilation from lack of food and decent medical care.
In reality it was Cherokee who were force marched by the authorities on the actual Trail of Tears, in 1838, 40 years earlier than the setting of the film; some 4,000 died. And the real Dull Knife and Little Wolf, their villages caught up in the brutal retaliation following Little Big Horn, did precipitate a Cheyenne break for freedom similar to that portrayed in Cheyenne Autumn. The former was captured and mercilessly killed, alongside his braves and their squaws, who, it is said, held up their little ones to be shot, at the Fort Robinson massacre. As for the latter, though he did lead the authorities on a merry dance, his story had no real happy ending; it wasn’t a time for such. Nor was it indeed, by the way, for minorities in the America of 1964, a fact Ford was very well aware of. No matter how unpalatable Cheyenne Autumn may be for those that simply want to ‘print the legend’, history, as always, proves more sordid.
Cheyenne Autumn is a picture that stands comparison with the famous ‘Cavalry Trilogy’ movies; indeed, it belongs squarely in their company (moreso than The Horse Soldiers) and it is a fitting and proper valediction. Both ‘Dobe’ Carey and Ben Johnson are back playing virtually the same saddle-sore trooper roles they were given 14 years earlier (and uncredited though he is, Johnson back in the stock company after blotting his copybook with the old man), Mike Mazurki fills Vic McLaglan’s boots as the hard drinking First Sergeant (he’s of Polish extraction, rather than Irish, and given a marvellous speech comparing the Cavalry with murderous Cossacks), and George O’Brien - who starred in Ford’s The Iron Horse - is the fort Commander, though much less benevolent than in previous incarnations.
Indeed, while Ford doesn’t entirely destroy his mythic Cavalry, he doesn’t go out of his way to portray them as ‘the good guys’. O’Brien couldn’t give a damn about the Cheyenne under his care, Patrick Wayne’s vengeful Second Lieutenant just wants them dead, and Karl Malden’s Prussian born Captain is a plain and simple Nazi; he’s only obeying orders he says, as he herds the Cheyenne into their concentration camp like internment, cutting off food and water as a punishment. There’s a streak of melancholy cynicism that runs like a vein of gold through the whole piece and as in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Ford takes a good, firm grip on the western mythos, and pulls it inside out.
Only Widmark’s Archer comes out of this with his hands clean, initially he views the Cheyenne simply as a foe to be fought - ‘We put on this blue uniform and then we’re soldiers; Cheyenne are soldiers the moment they’re born’ - but he has a streak of humanity that won’t allow them to be butchered - as Cossacks butchered Poles, or treated as sub-humans.
As if realising this was his last hurrah for the western, Ford casts as many old faces as he can, including many familiar faces as ‘Cheyenne’; among them, uncredited, wearing Chiefs’ Eagle Feathers is Chief Dan George. There has been criticism of Warner’s decision to use Ricardo Montalban and Gilbert Roland as the Cheyenne leaders ‘Little Wolf’ and ‘Dull Knife’ - Ford at first wanted Navajo which would indeed have leant a little more verisimilitude, but, given that they were cast, that’s nonsense, surely, and any arguments should have died when they signed their contracts. In the first instance they are excellent actors, doing what thespians have done for centuries - dressing up and pretending to be someone else. In the second, as Mexicans, it’s possible - probable - that the blood of an ancient Native American race flows through their veins, that of the Aztecs. And I won’t hear a word against Victor Jory - he’s magnificent as the old Chief who prefers to expire on the trail rather than ‘in this place of death’.
I’ll say a word too for the ‘Dodge City’ interval, which detractors claim is out of place in the movie. It’s a typical Ford comedy interlude, which leavens an otherwise gloomy tale. It gives the audience time to draw breath and gird their loins for another hour of the grim reality of past misdeeds. I’ve no problems with this, or indeed many of these comedy scenes in Ford films (other than the exceptions quoted above). Ford himself said it was in place of an intermission (though the film was shown in some cinemas with such, and indeed is featured on the DVD presentation), and that no-one did better intermission than James Stewart. Stewart plays a short sighted Wyatt Earp, playing cards with Doc Holliday (Arthur Kennedy) and John Carradine, giving us another version of the card sharp first seen in Stagecoach. Earp gets tangled in the panic caused by the Cheyenne’s march home - ‘Savages murder Settlers!’ yells a newspaper seller with much relish (the whole fourth estate takes a pretty savage beating) - and, to the audience’s delight, first shoots Ken Curtis’s human turd Joe in the foot then hacks out the bullet with a dirty knife.
As he settles back to his card game he asks the Doc that why it is always he that has to perform surgery. ‘You forget that I’m a doctor of dentistry’ says Holliday ‘Now if you’d shot him in the teeth…’ It might be amusing, but at the same time, Ford is underlining his cynicism, and it should be noted that he’s using figures he previously enshrined in My Darling Clementine.
The only real bum note in the whole piece comes with the appearance of Edward G. Robinson as a beleaguered Secretary of the Interior towards the end. Nothing to do with the great Mr Robinson (apart from the fact that his character is a very obvious deux ex machina), but he appears in Monument Valley before a process screen, which is more than a little jarring, considering the otherwise extensive use of the location. Apparently this was to do with Spencer Tracy, Ford’s first choice, having a heart attack during production; whether Robinson was unwilling to fly out to Utah, or it was simply a matter of time, I know not. Thankfully, it’s not fatal (nor was Mr Tracy’s heart attack by the way).
It’s a big film in every sense, with a beautiful and memorable Alex North score, Ford’s most expensive, and one which will reward with multiple viewings, but, as with all Ford films, it’s the little touches which makes one smile - the Remington bronze used in the titles, Robinson’s politician, under siege from the forces of capital, turning to a picture of Lincoln and imploring his ‘old friend’ for advice, the shot against an eye-watering Monument Valley sunset at the end. It might lack the narrative cohesion of some of the old man’s greatest work, it might lack a truly great script, it might lack the authority of a director at the height of his powers, but the stamp of the great visual poet is still there.
McBride urges us to watch Cheyenne Autumn, not for what might have been, but for what it is. And what it is, is a picture that many other directors would have given their soul to include in the filmography. Warners current R1 DVD, like ‘Rutledge’ part of their John Ford Collection, is quite beautifully rendered with strong lush colours and a crystal clear soundtrack.
Both Sergeant Rutledge and Cheyenne Autumn were made when John Ford was deep into his 60s, when many considered his best years behind him. But both these films - capped by The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance of course - show that for Ford still had much to offer in what was proving to be an Indian Summer, and not the winter, of his life in the director’s chair.
I Am A Director Of Westerns… August 29, 2006
Posted by John Hodson in : DVD News & Info, About John Ford, Ford DVD Filmography , 2 comments“For a director there are commercial rules that it is necessary to obey. In our profession, an artistic failure is nothing; a commercial failure is a sentence.
The secret is to make films that please the public and also allow the director to reveal his personality…”
“I didn’t show up at the ceremony to collect any of my first three Oscars. Once I went fishing, another time there was a war on, and on another occasion, I remember, I was suddenly taken drunk…”
“I love making pictures but I don’t like talking about them.”
“When in doubt; make a western…” - John Ford
I was listening to an interview with a director on the radio and he was talking about his latest project; just started production, he said. Months away from shooting of course, and in all it would probably consume nearly a year of his life. A year for a run-of-the-mill Hollywood film, from casting to in the can.
At the 1940 Oscar nominations Ford had no less than three films up for awards, the following year, the year he won ‘Best Director’ another two. His output was phenomenal, and while he he didn’t strike gold all the time (his biographer Joe McBride describes Tobacco Road, made during the same amazing spell, as being directed by Ford’s ‘evil twin’), there are pictures (as Ford himself preferred to call them) that are among the greatest ever filmed.
This post takes a good hard look at one of the 20th century’s greatest and most influential directors; John Ford, and what is currently available on DVD.
Best known as ‘a director of westerns’ (a description he used himself) Ford entered the film business as a silent movie pioneer. By the time he died, in 1973, he had produced a body of work that any artist would have been proud of. And art it sometimes was. Though Ford himself shied away from the term, he secretly delighted that, especially in later life, he was lauded as a film genius. He influenced fellow professionals and subsequent generations of film-makers including Welles, Truffaut and Scorsese, Bogdanovich and Spielberg. And he keeps on influencing film makers.
The filmography below is mostly culled from IMDB; the notes I’ve made on the various titles are from my personal experience or a trusted second hand source. I hope this will be a decent resource for Ford fans that will be constantly updated; all contributions, reviews, views, news, corrections, additions welcome - please!
Chesty: A Tribute to a Legend (1976)… aka Chesty (USA: informal English title)
Vietnam! Vietnam! (1971)
7 Women (1966)
Young Cassidy (1965) (uncredited)
Cheyenne Autumn (1964)… aka John Ford’s Cheyenne Autumn (USA: complete title) - R1 (Warner), said to be coming in R2 in Germany 2008, and part of a Warners Ford collection in R1, review here.
McLintock(1963) (uncredited) - R1 (Paramount), Ford alledgedly directed for a week while Andrew V. McLaglan was sick - numerous terrible PD versions in all regions, but the only really worthwhile disc is the Paramount/Batjac collaberation in R1, also coming in R2 Germany, review here.
Donovan’s Reef (1963) - R1 (Paramount), R2 (UK, Germany; Paramount), no extras, nice transfer, R2 review here
How the West Was Won (1962) (segment ‘The Civil War’) - R1 (Warners), gorgeous new editions from Warner in SD, in a pretty ‘Ultimate Collectors Edition’ and, with an exclusive ‘Smile-box’ presentation that’s worth the price of the set alone, in region free BD - review here.
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962) - R1 (Paramount), R2 (Paramount), barebones, but excellent transfer, R1 review here, and another R1 review here. Now also available in a new SE from Paramount in R1 as part of their Centennial Collection, review here.
‘Alcoa Premiere’ (1961) TV Series (episode Flashing Spikes)
Two Rode Together (1961), R2 (Germany; Sony, UK; Sony); barebones, but quite a decent transfer.
The Alamo (1960) (uncredited) - R1 (MGM), R2 (MGM), there is material used in the film shot by the great man; decent transfer but we want the full Roadshow version, which may now be coming, thanks to a campaign by Robert Harris, R1 review here
Sergeant Rutledge (1960) - R1 (Warner), part of a Warners Ford collection in R1, review here.
The Horse Soldiers (1959) - R1 (MGM), R2 (MGM), poor transfer, no extras, R1 review here
Korea (1959)
The Last Hurrah (1958) - R1 (Columbia), excellent transfer, no extras
Gideon’s Day (1958)… aka Gideon of Scotland Yard (USA) - rumoured to be coming in both R1 and R2 from Sony.
‘Wagon Train’ (1957) TV Series… aka Major Adams, Trail Master
The Rising of the Moon (1957)
The Wings of Eagles (1957), - R1 (Warner), part of a Warners Ford collection in R1, review here.
The Searchers (1956) - R1 (Warner), R2 (UK, Germany; Warner), part of a Warners John Wayne / John Ford collection in R1, also available in R2, review here, and as a superb region free BD release, review here.
‘The Bamboo Cross’ (1955) (TV)
‘Screen Directors Playhouse’ (1955) TV Series (episode Rookie of the Year) - R2 (Germany; Kinowelt), an extra on the German ‘The Quiet Man’ disc.
Mister Roberts (1955) - R1 (Warners), co-directed by Ford (after his spat with Fonda) fair transfer and extras, R1 review here
The Long Gray Line (1955) - R1 (Columbia), barebones but decent transfer, R1 review here
Mogambo (1953) - R2 (Warners), R4 (Warners), R1 (Warners), barebones but decent transfer, R4 review here, R1 review here
Hondo (1953) (uncredited) - R1 (Paramount), Ford was invited to direct the climatic battle after John Farrow was called away. One of the ‘Batjac’ CE discs, superb in every way, review here
The Sun Shines Bright (1953)
What Price Glory (1952) - R1 (Fox), R2 (BFI) - barebones but good transfers, R1 review here, R2 review here.
The Quiet Man (1952) - R1 (Lions Gate), R2 (UK; Universal, Germany; Kinowelt), the only good thing to be said is that the extras are decent on the R1, in all cases the transfers are terrible. The German Kinowelt version does contain ‘Rookie of The Year’ as an extra. , R1 CE review here.
This Is Korea! (1951) (as Rear Admiral John Ford USNVR Ret.)
Rio Grande (1950)… aka John Ford and Merian C. Cooper’s Rio Grande (USA: complete title) - R1 CE (Lions Gate), R2 (UK; Universal, Germany; Kinowelt), the R1 is pretty good, nice transfer, good extras. The UK R2 isn’t., R1 CE review here.
Wagon Master (1950) - R1 (Warner), R2 (France; Èditions Montparnasse, UK: Universal), acceptable transfer on the UK disc, could be better. And, as expected, Warners excellent R1 disc is; R1 review here.
When Willie Comes Marching Home (1950) - R1 (Fox)
She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949) - R1 (Warners), R2 (UK; Universal, Germany; Kinowelt), superb transfer from both Warners and Kinowelt, awful from Universal. The German DVD features an hour long BBC interview with Ford, the R1 some interesting 16mm home movies. UK R2 review here, German R2 review here, R1 review here. Also part of that John Ford/John Wayne Collection from Warners in R1.
Pinky (1949) (uncredited) - R1 (Fox), another where Ford was replaced, by Kazan in this case, but some of his footage remains; R1 review here.
‘Fireside Theatre’ (1949) TV Series
3 Godfathers (1948) - R2 (UK, Germany; Warners), R1 (Warners), R4 (Warners), barebones but decent transfer, also part of a John Ford/John Wayne Collection from Warners in R1, 2006 R4 review here, R1 review here
Fort Apache (1948)… aka War Party - R1 (Warner), R2 (France; Èditions Montparnasse, UK; Universal, Germany; Kinowelt), part of a Warners John Wayne / John Ford collection in R1, forget the rest, review here.
The Fugitive (1947)… aka Fugitivo, El (Mexico) - R2 (France; Èditions Montparnasse, UK; Universal). R2 review here; the French release sounds much like the UK R2, not bad, but could be better.
My Darling Clementine (1946)… aka John Ford’s My Darling Clementine (USA: complete title) - R1 (Fox), R2 (UK, Germany; Fox), excellent presentation again in R1 on the ‘Studio Classics’ label, features the pre-release cut, commentary etc. Review here
They Were Expendable (1945) - R1 (Warner), R2 (Germany, UK), older title, but decent enough. R1 review here and here. Also part of that John Ford/John Wayne Collection from Warners in R1
December 7th (1943)… aka December 7th: The Movie (video title - restored version) - R1 (Fox, VCI). R1 VCI review here
We Sail at Midnight (1943)
The Battle of Midway (1942) - R1 (Fox, Delta)
Sex Hygiene (1942)
Torpedo Squadron (1942) - R1 (Fox)
How Green Was My Valley (1941) - R1 (Fox), R2 (Fox), superb presentation in R1 in the ‘Studio Classics’ range. R1 review here
Tobacco Road (1941) - R2 (Germany, UK; Fox), R1 (Fox)
The Long Voyage Home (1940) - R1 (Warner), R2 (Universal), part of a Warners John Wayne / John Ford collection in R1, review here. Could be a Criterion release now that Warner has lost US rights; consequently the Ford/Wayne box has been re-released minus this, and Stagecoach, but plus Directed by John Ford.
The Grapes of Wrath (1940) - R1 (Fox), R2 (Fox), superb presentation in R1 in the ‘Studio Classics’ range. R1 review here
Drums Along the Mohawk (1939) - R1 (Fox), R2 (UK; Optimum, France; GCTHV, Germany MC One) - The first R1 and R2 (UK) discs boast very nice if not stellar transfers. The new R1 transfer is superb; comparison here.
Young Mr. Lincoln (1939) - R2 (France; GCTHV, UK; Optimum, Germany; MC One), R1 (Criterion) - Comparison of the UK R2 and R1 here and R1 review here.
Stagecoach (1939) - R1 (Warner), R2 (France; Èditions Montparnasse, UK; Universal), part of the initial Warners John Wayne / John Ford collection in R1, review here. Also - both SD and BD - from Criterion - review here -now that Warner have lost their US rights to the film; consequently the Ford/Wayne box has been re-released minus this, and The Long Voyage Home, but plus Directed by John Ford.
Submarine Patrol (1938)
Four Men and a Prayer (1938) - R1 (Fox)
The Adventures of Marco Polo (1938) (uncredited)
The Hurricane (1937) - R1 (HBO) R2 (Japan), the R1 is now OOP, no information on the quality of the Japanese disc.
Wee Willie Winkie (1937) - R1 (Fox)
The Plough and the Stars (1936)
Mary of Scotland (1936) - R2 (France; Èditions Montparnasse, UK; Universal), R1 (Warners), part of the Warners Ford collection in R1, review here.
The Prisoner of Shark Island (1936) - R1 (Fox), R2 (France, GCTHV, Germany MC One, UK, Eureka), excellent release from Eureka; superb extras. Transfer of R1 superior; comparison here.
Steamboat Round the Bend (1935)… aka Steamboat Bill - R2 (UK; Optimum), R1 (Fox), part of a Will Rogers box set in R1 and the Ford at Fox set review here.
The Informer (1935) - R1 (Warner), R2 (France; Èditions Montparnasse, UK; Universal), part of a Warners John Ford collection in R1, review here.
The Whole Town’s Talking (1935)… aka Passport to Fame (UK)
Judge Priest (1934) - R1 (Fox), R2 - avoid the various appalling public domain releases.
The World Moves On (1934) - R1 (Fox)
The Lost Patrol (1934) - R1 (Warner), R2 (France; Èditions Montparnasse), part of the Warners John Ford collection in R1, review here.
Doctor Bull (1933) - R1 (Fox)
Pilgrimage (1933) - R1 (Fox)
Flesh (1932)
Airmail (1932)
Arrowsmith (1931) - R1 (MGM) excellent transfer, barebones, R1 review here
The Brat (1931)
Seas Beneath (1931) - R1 (Fox)
Up the River (1930) - R1 (Fox)
Born Reckless (1930) - R1 (Fox)
Men Without Women (1930)
Salute (1929) (uncredited)
The Black Watch (1929)… aka King of the Khyber Rifles (UK)
You should be aware that all but a handful of Ford’s silent pictures are considered lost forever; but as these things continue to pop up from time to time, there’s always a slim chance…
Strong Boy (1929)
Riley the Cop (1928) (uncredited)
Napoleon’s Barber (1928)
Hangman’s House (1928) (uncredited) - R1 (Fox)
Four Sons (1928) - R1 (Fox)
Mother Machree (1928) (uncredited)
Upstream (1927)… aka Footlight Glamour (UK) - newly discovered in New Zealand in a huge cache of silents.
The Blue Eagle (1926) (uncredited)
3 Bad Men (1926) - R1 (Fox), R2 (Japan)
The Shamrock Handicap (1926)… aka 1732
Thank You (1925)
The Fighting Heart (1925)… aka Once to Every Man (UK)
Kentucky Pride (1925)
Lightnin’ (1925)
Hearts of Oak (1924)
The Iron Horse (1924) (uncredited) - R1 (Fox), R2 (UK, Japan) decent presentation, but barebones by BFI of the UK cut of the picture, but now out of print, no info on the Japanese disc. R1 disc contains two cuts - excellent; R2/R1 comparison here.
Hoodman Blind (1923)
North of Hudson Bay (1923) (as Jack Ford)… aka North of the Yukon (UK)
Cameo Kirby (1923)
Three Jumps Ahead (1923) (as Jack Ford)
The Face on the Bar-Room Floor (1923) (as Jack Ford)… aka The Love Image (UK)
The Village Blacksmith (1922) (as Jack Ford)
Silver Wings (1922) (as Jack Ford) (prologue only)
Little Miss Smiles (1922) (as Jack Ford)
Jackie (1921) (as Jack Ford)
Sure Fire (1921) (as Jack Ford)
Action (1921) (as Jack Ford)… aka Let’s Go
Desperate Trails (1921) (as Jack Ford)
The Wallop (1921) (as Jack Ford)
The Freeze-Out (1921) (as Jack Ford)
The Big Punch (1921) (as Jack Ford)
Just Pals (1920) (as Jack Ford) - R1 (Fox)
Hitchin’ Posts (1920) (as Jack Ford)… aka The Land of Promise (UK)
The Girl in Number 29 (1920) (as Jack Ford)… aka The Girl in the Mirror
The Prince of Avenue A (1920) (as Jack Ford)
Marked Men (1919) (as Jack Ford)… aka Trail of Shadows
A Gun Fightin’ Gentleman (1919) (as Jack Ford)… aka The Gun-Fighting
Gentleman (USA: review title)
Rider of the Law (1919) (as Jack Ford)… aka Jim of the Rangers
Ace of the Saddle (1919) (as Jack Ford)
The Outcasts of Poker Flat (1919) (as Jack Ford)
Riders of Vengeance (1919) (as Jack Ford)
By Indian Post (1919) (as Jack Ford)… aka The Love Letter - R2 (France; Lobster Films) appears to be an excellent transfer - part of collection of short films.
The Gun Packer (1919) (as Jack Ford)… aka Out Wyoming Way
Gun Law (1919) (as Jack Ford)… aka The Posse’s Prey
Bare Fists (1919) (as Jack Ford)… aka The Man Who Wouldn’t Shoot
A Fight for Love (1919) (as Jack Ford)… aka Hell’s Neck
The Fighting Brothers (1919) (as Jack Ford)… aka His Buddy Roped (1919) (as Jack Ford)
The Last Outlaw (1919)
Rustlers (1919) (as Jack Ford)… aka Even Money
Three Mounted Men (1918) (as Jack Ford)… aka Three Wounded Men (USA)
The Craving (1918)
A Woman’s Fool (1918) (as Jack Ford)
Hell Bent (1918) (as Jack Ford)… aka The Three Bad Men (USA: bowdlerized title)
The Scarlet Drop (1918) (as Jack Ford)
Thieves’ Gold (1918) (as Jack Ford)
Wild Women (1918) (as Jack Ford)
The Phantom Riders (1918) (as Jack Ford)
Bucking Broadway (1917) (as Jack Ford)… aka Slumbering Fires (UK) - R2 (France) available as a supplement to the French magazine Cinema, review here, and also in the Criterion set of Stagecoach.
A Marked Man (1917) (as Jack Ford)
The Secret Man (1917) (as Jack Ford)… aka The Round Up / Up Against It
Straight Shooting (1917) (as Jack Ford)… aka Joan of the Cattle Country / Straight Shootin’ (USA: cut version) / The Cattle War
Cheyenne’s Pal (1917) (as Jack Ford) … aka A Dumb Friend / Cactus My Pal
The Soul Herder (1917) (as Jack Ford) … aka The Sky Pilot
The Scrapper (1917) (as Jack Ford)
Trail of Hate (1917)
The Tornado (1917) (as Jack Ford)
Red Saunders Plays Cupid (1917)
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Ford at Fox:
In December 2007, in R1 Fox produced a huge and hugely impressive Ford at Fox boxed set, stuffed with wonderful transfers and extra features and containing: Just Pals (1920), The Iron Horse (1924 - two versions), 3 Bad Men (1926), Four Sons (1928), Hangman’s House (1928), Born Reckless (1930), Seas Beneath (1931), Up The River (1931), Doctor Bull (1933), Pilgrimage (1934), The World Moves On (1934), Judge Priest (1934), Steamboat Round The Bend (1935), The Prisoner of Shark Island (1936), Wee Willie Winkie (1937), Four Men and a Prayer (1938), Young Mr. Lincoln (1939), Drums Along The Mohawk (1940), The Grapes of Wrath (1940), Tobacco Road (1941), How Green Was My Valley (1941), My Darling Clementine (1946 - two version), When Willie Comes Marching Home (1950), What Price Glory (1952), plus the documentary Becoming John Ford. More details here.
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Publications:
John Ford; The Complete Films - excellent book, containing some wonderful photographs, nice quotes and titbits of information, plus a complete filmography and more. Dirt cheap and super value for money.
Searching for John Ford - Joe McBride’s amazing examination of the life and work of Ford. Not just the best book on this film maker, but one of the best biography’s around IMHO.
About John Ford - Lindsay Anderson’s wonderful examination of Ford’s work. A classic.
John Ford: The Man & His Films - Tag Gallagher has just made the latest edition of his wonderful book available as a free download. A hefty PDF, but worth it if only as a preview prior to buying a hard copy.
John Ford and the American West, a beautiful book at a very nice price. Chock full of stills, on-set photos, and reproductions of Remington’s and Russell’s wonderful western paintings.
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Bits and pieces:
The American West of John Ford; a public domain DVD of a 1971 documentary, aired in the US, featuring many of Ford’s colleagues, clips etc. Fascinating, terrible, terrible quality DVD.
Becoming John Ford - fine R1 documentary concentrating on the Fox years, reviewed here.
Directed By John Ford - Peter Bogdanovich’s documentary, recently updated with new interviews and presented on DVD for the first time. Excellent.
John Ford Goes to War - superb R1 documentary, review here
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Useful Web Pages
John Ford: A Bibliography of Materials in the UC Berkeley Library
John Ford at Silent Era
We Shot D-Day on Omaha Beach (An Interview With John Ford)
Argosy Pictures: The Independent Film Company of Director John Ford and Producer Merian C. Cooper
The John Ford Papers
Ten Underappreciated John Ford Films
Films of the Century; Young Mr Lincoln
John Ford at IMDB
Last updated: June 7, 2010.
We Be Texicans August 14, 2006
Posted by John Hodson in : Film & DVD Reviews, About John Ford, Westerns , 4 comments‘Now Lars! It just so happens we be Texicans. Texican is nothin’ but a human man way out on a limb, this year and next. Maybe for a 100 more. But I don’t think it’ll be forever. Some day, this country’s gonna be a fine, good place to be. Maybe it needs our bones in the ground before that time can come. Bedtime!’
Is it my favourite film? Well, a little like choosing the happiest day of ones life, it is, to put it mildly, a real tough call. But, yes, right now, I’d say The Searchers, John Ford’s immensely influential picture of frontier life in late 19th century Texas, is my favourite. It’s like an older, wiser friend (though it was born the same year as I) trustworthy and true, with something fresh to say, something new to see and hear every time I screen it. Which is, ah, quite often.
It’s wonderfully layered, with beautiful, but simple imagery, and it speaks just as loudly when there is no dialogue to hear. ‘Ya stupid bastard’ Ford would yell at Wayne, smacking him between the eyes (the edges of a chewed, spittle wet handkerchief no doubt adding to the Duke’s misery), ‘you act from here. Here!’ In this film, Wayne proves to Pappy that he’s learned the lessons, possibly better than either of them could have imagined.
There’s so much been written about the movie that I hesitate to add my impoverished thoughts, so I’ll keep it mercifully brief. That little speech quoted in the first paragraph, spoken by Olive Carey, is, I think, the central theme of The Searchers, and rings loud and true just as much today as it did 50 years ago. Our stupid, petty prejudices, our bile filled hates, mankind’s disdain for his fellows, is recorded in blood down the centuries and we’re a long, long way from any kind of civilisation (whatever that is). It’s an almost nihilistic outlook, Ford casting the ultimate American hero in a role where he’s anything but. Look, he’s saying, here’s the best of us; capable of the very worst.
Ethan Edwards could be a middle-aged version of Ringo, the bright-eyed tarnished knight of Stagecoach. In this case, our hero’s mantle has been knocked askew by nothing more than life itself. He’s not a born racist; ‘This country’, says a dewy-eyed Lars, shaking his head and sniffling, ‘Oh Ethan, this country…’
Edwards, a man who speaks ‘pretty good Comanche’ learned the language more than likely from the very people who became his avowed enemy, so we must assume that he’s been in very close contact with them, knowing their words, their customs. But his mother (and possibly more family members, lying in that makeshift cemetary out back of the Edwards’ home) was a victim of the war of attrition between the Native Americans and the invading white settlers. Ethan subsequently went to war to fight in one of the bloodiest, meanest, conflicts on Earth, and this man who doesn’t ‘believe in surrenders’ had to suck down the bitterest pill of defeat.
He’s even given up on God; ‘…by what you preach’ he roars disdainfully at the Reverend. Ethan Edwards’ humanity is being remorselessly chipped away, he’s becoming someone few recognise anymore, he ‘fits alot of descriptions.’
There’s one chance for him, even though he must know he’ll have to endure more pain, more suffering. And that’s to return to the little Texan shack and claim his brother’s wife as his own. Edwards knows that without her love, he’s probably damned, and this outsider is willing to become an outcast to save his own soul. Her horrific death at the hands of Scar, a Comanche war chief, pushes Ethan over the edge. It’s no accident that Ford is determined that Scar is Ethan’s doppelganger, a man who lives at the edges of his own people, a man with similar reasons to hate whites, as Ethan has to hate indians.
So Ford smudges the lines between good and evil, and in more ways than one. The old man, the author of those brilliant love letters to the military, the Cavalry trilogy, gives us two views of his beloved horse soldiers. Patrick Wayne, in possibly his most artless and believable role as a green cavalry officer, is desperate to impress Sam Clayton - and his pa (both fictional and real, one imagines) - while another deliberately faceless troop (and Ford tells us it’s the 7th Cavalry), casually and callously annihilates a Comanche village, to the tune of fife and drum; women, children and all. Good and evil exist side by side amongst us, and sometimes it’s hard to distinguish the two.
Both Ethan and Scar, then, are flint hearted racists, capable of the most callous, brutal acts (Ethan is shown taking a scalp, just as we’re beginning to believe he’s not such a bad fella; it’s a breathtaking moment) their morals, their lives, shaped by society and the country they inhabit. There’s no redemption for either of them; Ford lets Ethan return home, but he’s not permitted through the door, he’s just not fit for ‘civilised’ society. Edwards wearily turns from the camera, from the doorway, to ‘walk forever between the winds.’
It’s a version of hell. But then, in civilised society, we are, mostly, allowed the luxury of making our own.
By God, I love that film.
John Ford Goes to War… July 16, 2006
Posted by John Hodson in : Film & DVD Reviews, About John Ford, War Films , 1 comment so farJohn Ford’s love affair with the military possibly hit the heights with They Were Expendable, a ’from the heart’ view of the war in the Pacific.
Produced just as the war was coming to an end (and released after the conflict had ended - which proved its undoing at the box office), it’s a downbeat film in many ways, ’sacrifice’ the running thread throughout. In the Navy’s ‘Field Photo Unit’ Ford had served, had seen colleagues killed, and, as their commanding officer, had written letters to the families of the dead, the responsibility weighing heavily on him. Ford was on first name terms with ’sacrifice’.
‘Expendable’ was his homage not only to those that had served their country, but to those that had made that ultimate sacrifice, to those that would never come home.
Ford’s brilliant documentary style gives the film a grittiness that is founded in reality. His hero ‘John Brickley’ is based on his friend John Bulkeley’s experiences as a PT boat commander in the Philippines. There’s a vérité here that is rarely found in other contemporary war films; a deliberate stylistic decision from Ford, but also helped in the casting. As ‘Brick’ Brickley, Robert Montgomery’s service was on board PT boats (ironically his time in the service is thought to have fatally damaged his Hollywood status). Ford also went to great pains not to demonise the Japanese (they are never on screen), and it is to his credit, as news filters through of the attack on Pearl Harbour, Asian faces are amongst those seen reacting with horror
There’s no faux sentiment here; even the reverential treatment - usually meted out for such figures as Lincoln - granted his unnamed ‘General’ (obvious to all as Douglas MacArthur), is heartfelt and somehow right - young men were still dying as the film was in production, a point that the film puts right to the fore.
I can’t add too much more than the views and opinions in Mike Sutton’s DVD Times review. But I do find a couple of lines of dialogue early on interesting. It’s very pointed in the opening credits that everyone of any military rank is credited so; thus the world is told that Ford, Montgomery, writer Frank ‘Spig’ Wead, etc., have served their country. But not John Wayne, who famously did not serve in the armed forces.
Brickley says in the first reel, to his pal ‘Rusty’ Ryan, played by Wayne: ‘What are you aiming at, building a reputation, or playing for the team?’Wayne, in fact, cemented his reputation as a major Hollywood player at Republic during the war years, fighting his nation’s enemy on a soundstage; Ryan eventually becomes that team player the stoic Brickley urges him to become…did Wayne become that ‘Superpatriot’, that cheerleader for the American way, to belie any suggestion that he wasn’t a ‘team player’? Was this the turning point, the trigger?
A beautiful looking film, with truth and genuine emotion showing in every frame.
1957’s The Wings of Eagles, like ‘Expendable’ part of that R1 Ford / Wayne Collection, is the story of the aforementioned Frank ‘Spig’ Wead (who had died 10 years earlier), starring Wayne as Wead, Maureen O’Hara as his wife ‘Min’, and Ward Bond as ‘John Dodge’ a (very) thinly disguised John Ford. Very highly romanticised, it’s far more interesting when viewed not so much the story of Wead, but about Ford himself.
The old man approached the project with great trepidation. Great pals, Ford said he didn’t want to film it, but he didn’t want anyone else to film it either. That was probably down to two factors; Ford was simply too close to Wead, and his story doesn’t make particularly pretty viewing. ’Pappy’ (as Ford was known) could fully identify with a man who had an unhappy family life, who was far more at home with his pals than with his wife and children, but who also treated old friends shamefully.
Ford does little to gloss over this, though his film is still, nonetheless, sympathetic of Wead, a navy flyer and record breaker, who was told he would never walk again after a fall at home. Wead not only succeeded in defeating the surgeon’s dim chances for his recovery, but also became a successful playwright and screenwriter.
Bond, surrounded by set decor from Ford’s own office, must have relished playing the irascible ‘Pappy’; barking at a bemused Wead in typical fashion. O’Hara - no problems with chemistry with her leading man here - is fine as ‘Min’, despite being hamstrung when Wead’s children objected to their mother’s drink problem being highlighted on screen. Those scenes were left on the cutting room floor.
The film does have it’s problems; Wayne is simply too old (despite heaps of soft focus) to play Wead as a young and impetuous flyer and the film’s knockabout opening reel doesn’t sit well as a result.
But as the middle-aged Wead, Wayne comes into his own, playing, if I recall correctly, without a toupee and revealing his balding pate for the first and only time on screen. The final scene, as Wead’s old navy and army pals line the deck to send him into final retirement, is wonderfully played by the Duke, despite the dollops of schmaltz on show.
Presented in anamorphic OAR, this is another very fine presentation of an MGM film, with that Metrocolor shining through, bright, sharp and clean. Not first rank Ford by any means, but interesting nonetheless.
On 3 Godfathers, Mr Ford and Mr Peckinpah… July 13, 2006
Posted by John Hodson in : Film & DVD Reviews, About John Ford, Westerns , 3 commentsPike Bishop: It’s his word.
Dutch Engstrom: That ain’t what counts! It’s who you give it to!Don Jose: We all dream of being a child again, even the worst of us. Perhaps the worst most of all.
It’s very nearly a record for me; shedding a tear before the film’s started. But the dedication at the start of John Ford’s 3 Godfathers (1948) does it to me every time - ‘To Harry Carey; Bright Star of the Early Western Sky’.
In long shot, a cowboy pulls his horse up and for a moment, in post-war movie houses across the world, millions of silent western fans rub their eyes in disbelief as the rider strikes three familiar trademark poses; clutching his arm, lifting his stetson before resting it high on his forehead, settling back on his horse in an easy fashion. John Ford is saying his farewells to the man who he helped to stardom and in return made him a much sought after director. Harry Carey, a huge star of silent westerns, had died the previous year.
Isn’t 3 Godfathers a peach? It’s a remake of Ford’s Marked Men, made nearly three decades previously (just think on that for a moment), and while Ford brought all the virtues of his silent cinema career to the sound era, this is possibly the perfect example of ’silent’ sound film. I’ll explain. Well, I’ll try.
3 Godfathers is gorgeous to look at, the combination of Winton Hoch’s cinematography, Ford’s unique genius for composition and that spectral Mojave Desert locale make for a film that is just full of beautiful images - lots of shots into the sun, the eponymous ‘godfathers’ silhouetted against honeyed sand dunes. On the current R1 DVD (part of the recently released John Ford / John Wayne Collection) it’s not a perfect transfer from Warners, but it’s damn near.
I don’t quite know what it is, but I can almost ’see’ the intertitles. Maybe it’s because I know the film’s back story, possibly - and I think this more likely - it’s a deliberate stylistic decision by Ford. That opening dedication is not just mere words, this whole production, script, cinematography, score, the whole darned shooting match, is Carey’s epitaph. This is a genuine heartfelt homage to Harry Carey and an era of movies that have passed into the maw of history. Joe McBride, author of the epic, essential Searching For John Ford, says 3 Godfathers has been ‘…brushed aside by most critics as minor Ford… (but) the simplicity of the film’s sentiment is balanced by the sophistication of its visual style.’
I’ll go a few steps further - I think it’s nigh on a bloody masterpiece, a stylistic triumph with a deliberate childlike simplicity to the narrative, an unashamed love letter - as can also be argued about the very different The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance - to a cinema that had long gone, but a cinema that nurtured and formed one of the great, perhaps the greatest of, American directors.
McBride adds that he watched The Searchers with Hoch and ‘…the cameraman called attention to a group composition of the family moving onto the porch in the opening scene, taking their places with effortlessly fluid and beautiful movement. He exclaimed: “There’s Ford’s genius - right there.”‘
It’s almost balletic isn’t it? Makes me want to ’stand up and cheer…’
Those quotes at the beginning of this post? Well, for a while, I’ve been resisting the notion, postulated by some, that Peckinpah was a sort of anti-Ford, the antithesis of all the old man stood for and created. I think that’s pure nonsense. I reckon Sam is Ford’s natural successor in many ways - those lines, from The Wild Bunch, kind of sum up 3 Godfathers, and the richness, the depth of Peckinpah’s work emulates Fords (I may be struggling, but I also think there’s a link with the repeated use of ‘Let’s go!’ in the ‘Bunch’ with The Searchers; go on, mark me as a fool).
Mr Ford a true giant of American Cinema? I reckon…