April 9, 2020

Shane.


Review #1382: Shane.

Cast: 
Alan Ladd (Shane), Jean Arthur (Marian Starrett), Van Heflin (Joe Starrett), Brandon deWilde (Joey Starrett), Jack Palance (Jack Wilson), Ben Johnson (Chris Calloway), Edgar Buchanan (Fred Lewis), Emile Meyer (Rufus Ryker), Elisha Cook Jr (Frank "Stonewall" Torrey), Douglas Spencer (Axel 'Swede' Shipstead), John Dierkes (Morgan Ryker), Ellen Corby (Mrs. Liz Torrey), and Paul McVey (Sam Grafton) Produced and Directed by George Stevens (#911 - Woman of the Year)

Review: 
“I’ve always been of the opinion that a director should never touch a film without his having a basic knowledge of its contents.”

There have been a countless amount of Westerns to choose from when it comes to picking a film to watch and plenty that came from the 1950s. It should only prove natural that a classic as timeless as this one is came from George Stevens. Born in a family of actors and film crewmen, Stevens honed his craft first as a cameraman with the Laurel and Hardy film series before soon cutting his teeth as a director for shorts and eventually his first feature with the comedy The Cohens and Kellys in Trouble (1933). In the prevailing next few years, he would go on to do comedies and romantic dramas before he left to serve in World War II, which had a diverse selection of stars ranging from Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy (where he directed the first film to feature the two together in Woman of the Year) to Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers with Swing Time (1936) to Cary Grant with Gunga Din (1939). He served with the U.S. Army Signal Corps as a head of the film unit, which filmed numerous events of the war such as the D-Day landings and shots of concentrations camps such as Dachau. When he returned to direct feature films in 1948, his films darkened in optimism, but he reached success with his ambitious efforts. He won two Academy Awards for Best Director for A Place in the Sun (1951) and Giant (1956), a feat matched by just twenty other directors before he closed his career with The Only Game in Town (1970). Stevens commanded respect from his fellow directors and stars, a man capable of keeping control of the film to himself and not at the whims of producers or big names, believing that films should be respected as more than just a tool to be used to sell products when they were aired on television.

It should only prove fitting that the film has a tremendous tense presence to headline a classic like this. Ladd (a man who tried his hand at extras and bit parts before getting his big break at the age of 29) is precisely the man for the moments required of him in this film, a weary presence that we see ourselves drawn to even before conflict has built itself to a boil. He doesn't have the biggest of backstories or the tallest of heights, but there is plenty to see within his eyes when interacting with the others, such as with deWilde or with Arthur, a graceful presence in her last performance before film retirement. Heflin keeps up with resilience fitting of a community man, while deWilde (who had his Broadway debut at the age of 7) makes a compelling coming of age presence that is crystalized with the final iconic scene with Ladd. The rest of the cast contribute in their own ways, such as a conniving Meyer. Palance utilizes his moments on screen with menacing precision through the way he says his lines, with the highlight being the sequence outside the saloon that builds tension right up until the gunshots are fired (done by shooting into a garbage can), complete with wires to jerk back the actor after being shot, a startlingly effective choice. The film was adapted from the Jack Schaefer's 1949 novel of the same name by Pultizer Prize novelist A.B. Guthrie Jr and columnist Jack Sher. It's interesting that the film turned out so well with the strange difficulties it faced at times with its stars. For example, Ladd, who disliked guns, took 116 takes when it came time to film the shooting demonstration sequence. Palance did not have much experience with guns or horses, and he had trouble in mounting (and demounting) his horse; the one take of him successfully mounting his horse would be used numerous times (along with being reversed for dismounts) during the film. This is a film that went from original plans of 58 shooting days to 75 (done in 1951) with extensive editing done by Stevens that led to delays. And yet here we are, talking about a classic for its decade because of how well-crafted it is, meticulous in its look in sets alongside award-winning cinematography from Loyal Griggs that go with a game cast and startling direction that certainly proved inspiring for future films (such as Pale Rider) while ultimately being a thought-provoking Western of a time that never ages and never dies.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

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