Cast:
Henry Fonda (Gil Carter), Dana Andrews (Donald Martin), Harry Morgan (Art Croft), Frank Conroy (Major Tetley), Harry Davenport (Mr. Arthur Davies), Anthony Quinn (Juan Martínez / Francisco Morez, The Mexican), Francis Ford (Alva Hardwicke, The Old Man), William Eythe (Gerald Tetley), Mary Beth Hughes (Rose Mapen / Rose Swanson), and Jane Darwell ("Ma" Jenny Grier) Directed by William A. Wellman (#349 - Wings, #494 - The Public Enemy, #866 - Nothing Sacred, #973 - A Star is Born, #1387 - Track of the Cat)
Review:
Once upon a time, you could come across a whole variety of Westerns in the same year. The Ox-Bow Incident was a special kind of case that seems apt to come from a craftsman director in William A. Wellman, because he had wanted to do an adaptation of Walter Van Tilburg Clark's novel of the same name, which had been published in 1940 (you might recognize Clark from the fact that Wellman would direct a second Clark adaptation years later with Track of the Cat). The novel was a distinct success with readers in ways different from one could read in usual dime store stuff or films that had covered the dangers of a mob in say, Fritz Lang's Fury (1936), for example. At any rate, Wellman's persistence in wanting to make a film based on the book paid off eventually, doing so with 20th Century Fox (on the condition of doing two films in return) that was shot mostly in studio backlots and sound stages. The film was written and produced by Lamar Trotti, who had added the latter category to his line of work beginning with Thunder Birds (1942), which incidentally had been directed by Wellman. The fact that the film went by the Production Code is interesting, because, well, it depicts a lynching in 1885. It should be noted that Fonda himself had seen a riot that soon turned into a lynching when growing up in Nebraska in 1919, and it probably isn't too surprising that he called this one of the few movies he liked doing at 20th Century Fox and in general. Released in the midst of wartime, the movie was not a hit with audiences on release (with Zanuck noting that even a Laurel and Hardy movie outperformed it), but its legacy has certainly grown in the eight decades since its release.
What we have is a lean and mean drama of the most efficient kind. It is quite thorough in showing the perils of mob rule and what would happen in a society where the "very conscience of humanity" in law is ignored in a sweeping generalization. The uncompromising truth can hurt when it stares you right in the face because of how timeless that realization is: if you get enough people together to be complicit in an action (whether that involves actions of vigilantism or war), you can do plenty of damage and maybe be able to get away with it, at least if one doesn't mind possibly losing a bit of one's soul in the process. The system of values that we want to hold dear only work if we are willing to accept that for every action we think is "right" to do, we have to accept that there are just as many that we have to confront that are "wrong" that can't be ignored. Among the genre of the Western, it belongs to what we could call a "revisionist" Western (of course that label is more for stuff that happened after the end of the Production Code, but still) that looks upon the Old West and sees just as many cultivators of impulse as there are at the moment. There are no real heroes to be found here, but it doesn't mean the performances are lacking anyway, as evidenced by seeing Fonda play observer in the web of paranoia and impulse that is handled with simple grace that Fonda knows how to do so naturally. Seeing a town lose their soul in the shambling display of mostly unified display of "might makes right" is fit for Fonda and Morgan to waltz into. Andrews leads the group (Quinn and Ford) suffering from the eyes of impulsive fools with a worthy display of anguish worthy of a martyr for one that really was just trying to be a man in a frontier that varies in its view of them. Conroy and Eythe handle the dynamic that arises in defining "what a man looks like" and finding that action really does speak louder than words in the worst possible ways that makes for such a harrowing lesson in the nature of shame and not allowing older authority to take all heed over oneself (regardless of if it is say, a former Confederate). The film builds that gut-churning tension of what may and may not happen when it comes to a town looking for what it thinks is justice to hold to worthwhile realization in sheer audacity. Nothing is easy to find in answers or in letters, but the shame of living with what one sees is probably apt for a lesson to stew on, unless one has a reason to get out of town and start anew. As a whole, it is a pretty good Western that is a cut above a good chunk of the Westerns in its era fitting for a craftsman like Wellman in handling a tale that can still be played for eras of the present about mob rule, for better or worse.
Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.
