How the West Was Won.

Review #2228: How the West Was Won.

Cast (i.e. who features most prominently in each segment)

"The Rivers" segment: James Stewart (Linus Rawlings), Carroll Baker (Eve Prescott), Debbie Reynolds (Lilith Prescott), Karl Malden (Zebulon Prescott), Agnes Moorehead (Rebecca Prescott), Walter Brennan (Col. Jeb Hawkins), and Brigid Bazlen (Dora Hawkins) Directed by Henry Hathaway (#1314 - True Grit and #1687 - O. Henry's Full House)

"The Plains" segment: Debbie Reynolds (Lilith Prescott), Gregory Peck (Cleve Van Valen), Robert Preston (Roger Morgan), Thelma Ritter (Agatha Clegg), and David Brian (Lilith's attorney) Directed by Henry Hathaway.

"The Civil War" segment: George Peppard (Zeb Rawlings), Andy Devine (Corporal Peterson), Harry Morgan (Gen. Ulysses S. Grant), John Wayne (Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman), Russ Tamblyn (Confederate deserter), Carroll Baker (Eve Prescott Rawlings), and Raymond Massey (President Abraham Lincoln) Directed by John Ford (#398 - The Last Hurrah, #1324 - 3 Bad Men, #1349 - Stagecoach, #1372 - Fort Apache, #1392 - The Searchers, #1409 - The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, #1778 - 3 Godfathers, #1827 - Tobacco Road)

"The Railroad" segment: Henry Fonda (Jethro Stuart), George Peppard (Zeb Rawlings), and Richard Widmark (Mike King) Directed by George Marshall (#650 - The Ghost Breakers)

"The Outlaws" segment: George Peppard (Zeb Rawlings), Lee J. Cobb (Marshal Lou Ramsey), Eli Wallach (Charlie Gant), Carolyn Jones (Julie), Debbie Reynolds (Lilith Prescott van Valen), and Mickey Shaughnessy (Deputy Stover) Directed by Henry Hathaway

With Spencer Tracy (Narrator).

Review: 

Yes, there was a union between Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and Cinerama. MGM had plenty of success with making epics that attracted folks to not just go with television such as, say, Ben-Hur (1959), so it makes sense to say that there was two films distributed by MGM involving another big-related process in film. The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm was released in the three-strip Cinerama process in August of 1962 before November saw the release of How the West Was Won, which apparently took inspiration from a series of articles by Life magazine (take one guess what the title of those articles was) that was first published in 1959. As one might remember, Cinerama (as invented by Fred Waller) was a process involving widescreen with a considerably distinct presence: three projectors projecting images onto a curved screen (the panoramic image on a screen curved 146 degrees around the front of an audience. This Is Cinerama (1954) was the showcase that rocked folks as a grand travelogue; as one might notice, trying to shoot actors with this setup was tough when it comes to sightlines and requiring plenty of detail dressing of clothing for sets. Hathaway was quoted famously as calling it "Goddamn Cinerama" (along with calling it "nothing but a big window display") when noting the fact that the closest as one could get with the process was a waist shot; because of the wide view, one apparently couldn't watch the actors without somehow being in the shot. Bottom line, one would see various films done in varying levels of camera lenses such as Ultra Panavision 70 to Super Panavision 70, as Cinerama became single camera for later films such as It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963). At any rate, here we have a big Western covering various moments of the Old West for MGM, with directors chosen specifically because they were "old pros" (as opposed to "no young geniuses", as quoted by producer Bernard Smith); Ford and Marshall had directed films since the late 1910s while Hathaway started in 1932 before each director eventually ended their careers by the turn of the 1960s into 1970. Going by the word of Hathaway, production was semi-rough, owing to both the Cinerama filming process and (in his words), "an idiot for a producer" to the point where production almost ended before the filming of the fifth and final segment; he also claimed to write the second segment of the film, as he was originally brought in to help with scripting problems, although the final print listed James R. Webb as the only screenwriter. The movie was a roaring success and has a pretty good reputation for itself among epics, particularly since one can watch it on home video (since the 21st century) with pretty good restoration (as one must do when it comes to making screens look whole).

There are plenty of peaks and valleys with this film, most of which come from the fact that the quality of enjoyment comes and goes depending on which segment one is on in the 164-minute epic. The opening segment has a near sixty-year-old Stewart playing a guy meant to be 28, while Reynolds and Peppard are the only actors in the most segments (three) to go with borrowing footage from The Alamo [1960] and needing four cinematographers. You get plenty to see in this endurance round of anthology action: river pirates, rapids, wagon attacks, a John Wayne cameo, stampedes, and a railroad attack all in one. It is pretty much Hathaway's film to hold court involving drive and desire in the frontier, as the Civil War and railroad segments (as done by Ford and Marshall) don't exactly rise too far above stagy scenario-making (apparently, Hathaway did re-shots for the railroad segment). The first two segments are probably the strongest in terms of general construction, even if one is always seeing the strain of trying to make a worthwhile epic that has to rely on plenty of pictorial views and a bit of bombastic acting (as one might see coming when having to deal with weird cameras) to go with the motions. The third segment is mostly set around the aftermath of the Battle of Shiloh that has brief moments in the start and finish involving the Rawlings family farm. Most of it though...is a couple of folks listening to a conversation of two U.S. generals (William Tecumseh Sherman and Ulysses S. Grant). Apparently, Spencer Tracy was once tapped to play Grant, but this eventually washed away to just have him provide the narration from time to time. As tempting as it is to wonder how cool it would've been to see Tracy and Wayne on the same screen...it probably wouldn't have made it any less stagey, because really it isn't as involving as it could've been. Regardless of the detail taken for costuming (again, one had to be careful and not skimp in front of those Cinerama cameras), it just comes up feeling hollow for actual interest because you know you've seen (and heard) Wayne and Morgan in better Westerns. The fourth segment and fifth are pretty mild on each count, but at least the latter segment has the railroad spectacle to let the film coast on a good note despite the fact that I can barely remember Peppard as a lead presence here. It is a hard thing to do for a film that has him (by his idea) do a Stewart impersonation in the middle of things because hey, do you remember that Stewart played the character's dad for one segment? The highlights are the sequences involving action because of the staging that allows for things to just move on their own, as opposed to acting that is mostly just fine (it is hard to really pick a favorite), but you have a cadre of character actors to go with name guys doing a fraction of the work that straddles just above being accused of phoning it in and settling right into "stagey but comfortable". As a whole, it is a grand old epic that is good enough in the categories that matter in spectacle to make a serviceable recommendation for those interested in what the film tries to show within a distinct camera setup and approach.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

O. Henry's Full House.

Review #1687: O. Henry's Full House.

Cast:

Charles Laughton (Soapy, segment "The Cop and the Anthem"), Dale Robertson (Barney Woods, segment "The Clarion Call"), Anne Baxter (Joanna Goodwin, segment "The Last Leaf"), Fred Allen (Samuel Brown, segment "The Ransom of Red Chief"), Jeanne Crain (Della Young, segment "The Gift of the Magi"), Marilyn Monroe (Streetwalker, segment "The Cop and the Anthem"), Richard Widmark (Johnny Kernan, segment "The Clarion Call"), Jean Peters (Susan Goodwin, segment "The Last Leaf"), Oscar Levant (William Smith, segment "The Ransom of Red Chief"), Farley Granger (Jim Young, segment "The Gift of the Magi"), David Wayne (Horace, segment "The Cop and the Anthem"), Richard Rober (Chief of Detectives, segment "The Clarion Call"), Gregory Ratoff (Behrman, segment "The Last Leaf"), Lee Aaker (J.B. Dorset, segment "The Ransom of Red Chief"), Richard Garrick (Doctor, segment "The Last Leaf"), Fred Kelsey (Mr. Schultz / Santa Claus, segment "The Gift of the Magi"), with John Steinbeck as narrator. Directed by Henry Koster (#1607 - Harvey), Henry Hathaway (#1314 - True Grit), Jean Negulesco (#1380 - Phone Call from a Stranger), Howard Hawks (#951 - The Big Sleep, #1352 - His Girl Friday, and #1399 - Rio Bravo), and Henry King.

Review: 

There have been a number of anthology movies to have come around the corner in film, whether in horror, a unified theme (such as a city like Tales of Manhattan (1942), released by 20th Century Fox), or in trying to bring short stories to the screen, and O. Henry's Full House is merely in the middle of a regular era for this kind of movie, with one early example being If I Had a Million (1932). Another example is Quartet (1948), which adapted four stories by the writer W. Somerset Maugham while having him appear from time to time to talk about them. The success of that film inspired two follow-up films in Trio (1950) and Encore (1951) and 20th Century Fox evidently wanted to play on that success with adapting short stories for one film, with O. Henry selected. Actually, they had wanted to do a film based on the writer in 1943, and a film of "The Gift of the Magi" in 1945 was thought of before fizzing out. The writer (born William Sydney Porter, who lived from 1862 to 1910) was a North Carolina native but found his success when he moved to New York (which he called "Bagdad-on-the-Subway") in 1902. He wrote over 300 stories, which generally were known for their wit and their clever endings; one of his most well-known stories was "The Caballero's Way" (1907), which was adapted by Fox for In Old Arizona (1928), and short films based on his works had been done as early as 1909. Left with needing someone to introduce the stories, Fox went to John Steinbeck (a Pulitzer Prize winner and future Nobel laureate in Literature), known for novels such as The Grapes of Wrath (1939), East of Eden (1952), and various other works - this was the first and only film appearance for Steinbeck. 

So let us recap the stories one by one in the order shown (oddly enough, bad screenings involving the Hawks-directed story led to it being removed before it was formally released), which runs at 117 minutes. The first is "The Cop and the Anthem", which was written by Lamar Trotti with direction by Henry Koster. It involves an eccentric on the streets that has plans to spend the cold winter in jail. Laughton is right at home with a role that requires a bit of quizzical timing and an astute sense of self that he plays right to what is needed for those twenty-ish minutes. Monroe is technically in the film as a star, in that she is there for a minute to exchange with Laughton (since the character believes that harassment will help his jail case), which goes fine, while Wayne tags along at times. Technically this is the story with the clearest ending seen coming (well, there is Magi, but come on), but it is a solid A-/B+ kind of story to get it all going. "The Clarion Call" was written by Richard L. Breen while directed by Henry Hathaway, involving a detective in debt to a friend-turned-murderer. It reunites Hathaway and Widmark, who worked on Kiss of Death (1947) to a tremendous debut for the latter actor; he essentially is reprising his role from that film for this one, which was reportedly inspired by the character of The Joker from the Batman comics. Strangely enough, Widmark's performance would influence Frank Gorshin when it came time to play The Riddler in Batman (1966-1968), which seems evident with the laugh uttered by Widmark when we first hear him. He seems to overshadow Robertson, who makes for a decent detective when it comes to wrapping away his guilt in a small cat-and-mouse game with the dangerously playful Widmark. Overall, it is a fairly solid B kind of segment.

"The Last Leaf" was written by Ivan Goff and Ben Robers and directed by Jean Negulseco. Here, we have a story about a lady who believes she will die when the last leaf falls off a tree near her bed. Honestly, the highlight is probably Ratoff, who was actually both an actor and director in his time, and he plays the eccentric artist with fair gusto to counter the dour stuff needed by Baxter and Peters. I think the twist here works better than the ones done in the last two, but a B+ grade seems fairly warranted here in its useful pacing. "The Ransom of Red Chief" was written by Ben Hecht, Nunnally Johnson and Charles Lederer while directed by Howard Hawks (Johnson wanted his name off the script, which was re-written by Hecht and Lederer at the request of Hawks because it was originally written by Johnson with Clifton Webb and William Demarest in mind for stars). To be honest, I fail to see exactly why this was thought of as the clunker among the five, because it is quite amusing, featuring two radio mainstays with Allan and Levant, who play bumbling kidnappers of a snotty kid. It's a chuckler that one will be quite familiar with, because I'm sure most of us have seen/experienced taking care of someone who enjoys taking things into their own hands, whether with a bear or other means, which ultimately means a B- grade. "The Gift of the Magi" was written by Walter Bullock while directed by Henry King. It is likely the most famous of the five stories, and it is probably washed in sentimentality as the aforementioned Leaf story ripe for the spirit of Christmas. You've probably read this story at least once (probably in high school), and it ultimately is a decent if not completely heartwarming tale that we all see coming. Crain and Granger are a decent pair to go along with what is needed in balancing selfless nature without falling into the trap of pap. It is a solid B episode, not exactly the weakest story, and it closes the film out just fine in encapsulating the feel of what the movie yearns to show in generating interesting characters to go with plots that go with useful turns that make for a fairly solid anthology film on the whole. It serves as an interesting piece in depicting an author's work onto film, efficient in what needs to be shown for any viewer curious enough for it.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

True Grit (1969).

Review #1314: True Grit.

Cast: 
John Wayne (Reuben J. "Rooster" Cogburn), Kim Darby (Mattie Ross), Glen Campbell (La Boeuf), Jeremy Slate (Emmett Quincy), Robert Duvall (Lucky Ned Pepper), Dennis Hopper (Moon), Alfred Ryder (Goudy), Strother Martin (Col. G. Stonehill), Jeff Corey (Tom Chaney), Ron Soble (Captain Boots Finch), John Fiedler (Lawyer Daggett), and James Westerfield (Judge Parker) Directed by Henry Hathaway.

Review: 
It seems perfectly appropriate to close a year out with a Western (or start one, if you're into that sort of tradition) - particularly one released in a year as intreging as 1969. That year was a time where the genre experienced variations of telling a tale of the Old West through various lens such as The Wild Bunch with its touch of violence or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and its touch of humor. This is a film that very well could have been made in a previous decade - after all, its director was known primarily for quite a few Westerns in his time (mostly with Gary Cooper as star), with producer Hal B. Wallis having served as producer on films such as Casablanca (1942) or Westerns like The Sons of Katie Elder (released four years earlier, which had both Hathaway and Wayne). However, this was an adaptation of the 1968 novel of the same name from Charles Portis, adapted to the screen by Marguerite Roberts. Wayne had read the novel and soon expressed a desire to star in the main role, while later calling the screenplay the best one he ever read. The other parts of the main trio came a bit more shakily, with considerations for Mattie ranging from Mia Farrow to Sally Field before Darby wound up with the role, while Elvis Presley was the original one in mind for the role eventually taken up by Campbell (complete with singing the title song to open the film). Hathaway did not find himself having a great relationship with either of them along with Duvall, but he certainly leads them to worthy performances, not tripping up the momentum in part because the film knows when to be an adventure and when to have a bit of charm as well. It may be a tale of revenge, but it's still one with tradition involved. Wayne moves with careful confidence, a man wracked by who he is and what he means to someone who needs a person like him to hunt - plenty of grit and plenty of charm beneath that gauze eye-patch. Darby shines with persistence, a fine person to play off the main presence without being lost in the background. Campbell seems a bit stiff when on screen, but at least he doesn't slow the momentum too much. Duvall makes for a fair adversary alongside Hopper and Corey (who gets to make a crack while doing a stare-down) makes for a compelling showdown person for the climax. It uses its 128 minutes to great effect, driving a riveting climax with action and class, earning its wonderful last shot (Wayne jumping a fence with a horse) with conviction and triumph. It is a film with a spirit of adventure that brims itself high and mighty without needing to be wrapped in too much sentiment or bluntness. It falls into the conventions of the genre, without trouble, a well made venture for those who seek it out looking for something worthwhile.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.