John Wayne capitalised on the success of Stagecoach in the '40s, making a string of formulaic films that, while unexceptional, cemented him as a box office draw. Most featured Wayne as one corner of a love triangle, vying with the likes of Walter Pidgeon, Ray Milland, and Randolph Scott (for Claire Trevor, Paulette Goddard, and Marlene Dietrich respectively).
Such roles ill suited him and it wasn’t until the end of the decade that he got the chance to show what he was really capable of, starring in four classics in the space of two years.
Fort Apache (1948)
The first film in John Ford’s famous cavalry trilogy saw Wayne in a secondary role with Henry Fonda playing Lt. Col. Owen Thursday, the film's central character. The story was inspired by the massacre at the Little Big Horn with Thursday based on George Armstrong Custer.
Fonda is terrific as the by-the-book officer who’s unwilling to take advice from those who have more experience in dealing with Indians. We’re used to seeing Fonda as the good guy, although Sergio Leone famously cast him against type as the villain in Once Upon a Time in the West. Here though he’s neither hero nor villain, just a man, one who lets his ego cloud his judgment at the cost of his men’s lives.
As the seasoned Captain Kirby York, Wayne is the antithesis of Thursday. A true professional soldier, he finds himself forced to follow orders he knows are wrong. It’s a faultless performance but one that is overshadowed by Fonda, just as York in the film is overshadowed by Thursday.
Many of John Ford’s "repertory company" make appearances, with Ward Bond as the fort’s Sergeant Major particularly outstanding. Comic relief is provided by Victor McLaglen as Sergeant Festus Mulcahy and it’s the sort of role he filled so well in Ford’s films of the period.
The love interest is provided by Shirley Temple and John Agar and while their story adds nothing to the film (and could easily have been cut out) it certainly doesn’t spoil things.
Apart from Fonda’s performance, the film's greatest achievement is the cinematography by Archie Stout. Some years ago I was lucky enough to see Fort Apache at a cinema screening and until you’ve seen the epic vistas of monument valley on the big screen you haven’t truly seen the film; you get a sense of the immensity of it that is lost on television.
Just as he did with Stagecoach, Ford created the perfect balance of character and spectacle and in so doing made a film that is as involving today as it ever was.
Red River (1948)
An epic western that gave Wayne a chance to stretch himself as an actor, Red River tells the story of a cattle drive from Texas to Kansas. Wayne is Thomas Dunson, a cattle baron who faces ruin unless he can make the cross-country journey to get his cattle to market. Along for the ride are his adopted son Matt Garth (Montgomery Clift) and long-time friend 'Groot' Nadine (Walter Brennan) and an assortment of hired hands, including notorious gunman Cherry Valance (John Ireland).
Wayne starts the film playing his real age, as Dunson picks the land on which he’ll build his ranch and takes in Garth, the only survivor of a wagon train massacre. We then jump forward fourteen years with Dunson making preparations for the cattle drive. Duke was so convincing as the aging rancher that John Ford allegedly remarked "I never knew the big son of a bitch could act.” There is much more to Dunson than just his age though, and Wayne conveys the man’s single-minded obsession so well it’s almost scary. It foreshadowed the equally obsessive Ethan Edwards in The Searchers, with the two characters having more of an edge than any of the actor's other roles.
Wayne first worked with Walter Brennan in two of the quickie westerns he made in the '30s and the pair had a great on-screen chemistry. It’s easy to write off 'Groot' Nadine as mere comic relief but such would be a disservice to Brennan. Yes, he provides the film with some light relief but he’s also the middleman caught between the tyrannical Dunson and Garth.
Of the three leads, it’s Clift who lets the side down, not through lack of ability but simply from miscasting. My Dad was no fan of Clift as an actor and consequently Red River was not one of his favourite Wayne films and growing up I think I inherited some of his prejudices but it’s something I’ve striven to conquer in later years.
Yet a recent reviewing of the film still left me unconvinced by Clift; he lacks the physical presence to stand alongside Wayne. He’s so small in fact that had he been a steer, Dunson would doubtless have taken him behind the barn and shot him. Maybe it’s because Wayne’s character is such a strong presence, both physically and mentally, that it’s hard to accept Garth standing against him. I’m always left wondering if Dunson gets shot prior to the final fistfight with Garth because Hawks realised that an audience wouldn’t accept Clift putting up much of a fight against Wayne (even wounded it’s a stretch).
The film's weakest performance though comes from Joanne Dru as a love interest for Garth that the story really doesn’t need. Until watching Dru’s performance I’d always assumed that getting shot by an arrow would be painful, so it came as a surprise to discover that one's reaction should be the equivalent of stubbing one's toe. The rest of her performance is equally emotionless but thankfully fairly brief.
Howard Hawks was a great director but some of his casting decisions are questionable. I’ve already mentioned Clift and there’s Ricky Nelson as a gunfighter in Rio Bravo. Equally outlandish was his original choice for the part of Cherry Valance — Cary Grant. Thankfully Grant turned him down, probably realising he was ill-suited to the role, and instead it went to John Ireland. The part was cut down from what was offered to Grant but Ireland still manages to make something of it. Valance isn’t a bad guy although there is certainly a sinister side to him and Ireland makes him likeable enough but also someone you don’t trust and wouldn’t want to turn your back on.
The film loses momentum during its final half hour with Wayne off-screen for much of it, his presence felt rather than seen as he hunts down Garth and company after they take the herd and head down the Chisholm Trail to Abilene. When he catches them it’s something of an anticlimax with everything reconciled after the previously mentioned bout of fisticuffs with Clift and a stiff talking to from Joanne Dru.
For the most part though this is a magnificent film and it allowed Wayne to create one of the best and most complex characters ever seen in a western.
She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)
Captain Nathan Brittles (Wayne) is just days away from retirement but in that time he must do his best to stop an all-out war with the Indians not to mention ensure that young officers Flint Cohill (John Agar) and Ross Penell (Harry Carey Jr.) are ready to assume command when he steps down.
It’s Brittles' interaction with the other occupants of the cavalry fort that give the film its heart. Having fun at the expense of Cohill and Penell, both of whom are infatuated with Joanne Dru’s Olivia Dandridge, or broader comic moments with Sergeant Quincannon (Victor McLaglen) are some of the more obvious ones but there are smaller touches as well, like the gentle pat on the head he gives Mildred Natwick after she helps the doctor save a wounded trooper's life.
The film focuses a little too much on the love triangle with Dru’s spoilt brat hard to like and Carey and Agar both unexceptional. It’s Ben Johnson who makes the biggest impression in only his second major role (his first was in Mighty Joe Young the same year). He plays Sergeant Tyree and, as well as some magnificent riding, he gets to do some real acting. The death scene of a fellow ex-confederate soldier is a particularly poignant moment and for such an inexperienced actor he does a remarkable job.
One of the most striking elements of the film is its look. Winton C. Hoch’s cinematography is as beautiful as any painting of the west. It captures the spirit of the film perfectly; this is the west of myth, a romantic vision that only existed in movies. It’s Ford’s love letter to the US Cavalry.
When I was a kid watching westerns with my dad this was always my least favourite of Ford’s cavalry trilogy; it seemed overly sentimental and lacking the action of Fort Apache or Rio Grande and what kid wants to see John Wayne playing an old fart? Yet it’s a film that I’ve come to love as I’ve grown older; in fact the closer I get to being an “old fart” the more it seems to move me. Yes, it is overly sentimental but so what? It’s also a beautiful piece of filmmaking, visually stunning, and featuring a majestic performance from Wayne that ranks as his best of the '40s and one of his best ever.
The Sands of Iwo Jima (1949)
Most of Wayne’s war movies were flag waiving gung-ho affairs and there’s certainly an element of that here but it’s tempered by a more realistic depiction of combat. Characters we’ve come to know and like are killed with brutal suddenness and not from an act of derring-do, but merely because they failed to keep their heads down. It’s the film's focus on survival as much as heroics that sets it apart.
Telling the story of Sergeant Stryker and the squad of recruits he trains and takes into combat, the film culminates with the famous battle for Iwo Jima (seen recently in Clint Eastwood’s Flags of Our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima). The film may lack the pyrotechnics of modern war films, but for the period it does a fine job of recreating the beach landing. Many of Wayne’s war films relied on stock footage for their action sequences and there is some used here but there isn’t the over-reliance on them that mars many of the other films.
As the tough-as-nails sergeant, Wayne is in fine form, barking out orders and making the recruits jump. Yet there is more to him than that; he's bitter at his wife for leaving him and taking his son with her, seeking solace in a bottle whenever the squad are granted leave. He's not heartless though; there's a touching scene with a mother and child that leads to him laying his demons to rest. And then there’s the dance scene where he teaches one of the squad how to use his bayonet by dancing a jig with him; it’s the films lightest moment by far.
He gets great support from Forrest Tucker as the squad’s troublemaker and Wally Cassell as the obligatory schemer. John Agar is on hand as well and this marked the third Wayne classic he’d appeared in. The film’s classic status has little to do with Agar though; in fact, as with Fort Apache and She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, it would be fair to say the films are great in spite of his presence and certainly not because of it. Once again the film is burdened with a love interest for the actor, with his marriage and impending fatherhood used to mirror the failed relationship of Wayne’s Stryker. Unfortunately it doesn’t really work, with Agar lacking the range as an actor to pull it off. It’s little surprise that Agar descended to B-movie hell and films like The Brain from Planet Arous (1957) within a few years.
Wayne’s performance is the glue that holds the film together and despite some clichéd characters (and Agar), the film stands as one of the best war films of the period. If you only watch one John Wayne war movie, this should be it.
