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#634 - Red River
Howard Hawks, 1948
A cattle baron plans on conducting a massive cattle drive but runs into trouble when his draconian demands cause his subordinates to mutiny.
John Wayne might just be the most iconic actor in the Western genre, serving as a strong representation of the classic pre-revisionism Western as a result. Despite that, he was still able and willing to appear in films that challenged his status as the strident hero of the wild frontier. Red River is a prominent example of a film where Wayne is made to play a character with more depth and flaws than usual that push him beyond being a mere anti-hero. He starts off as a member of a cattle-driving operation whose decision to strike out on his own proves fortuitous when his former convoy is attacked. Starting off with only two cattle and a couple of subordinates, he soon carves out a large tract of land for himself and becomes a prominent cattle baron in his own right. Years later, he plans to launch what is then the largest cattle drive to ever happen along with his faithful offsiders (Montgomery Clift and Walter Brennan). The ambitious nature of the undertaking proves troublesome for numerous reasons and Wayne's intention of keeping control of his outfit by any means necessary eventually leads the men under him to question his authority; this of course includes Clift, an orphan who had grown up with Wayne as a father figure and thus finds himself torn between loyalty and pragmatism.
Under the guidance of malleable genre filmmaker Hawks, Red River proves a decent example of a Western. It does have its flaws - in many respects it's a little too long and monotonous as it captures the details of the cattle drive in excruciating detail, which can get a little boring at times (especially taking into account how it's shorter than Hawks' later Western Rio Bravo yet somehow feels longer). Wayne gets the chance to play a character with some depth as he is also haunted by the woman he lost to a murderous Native, while Clift gets his own fairly complex journey as he is forced to stand up to the domineering Wayne not just out of necessity but also out of an inner need to prove himself not just to Wayne but to himself. His defiance of Wayne is also complicated by his relationship with Joanne Dru's feisty pioneer woman, who definitely stands out here as she delivers a memorably strong performance. Other recognisable Western players pop up and deliver decent turns; between this and Rio Bravo, Brennan certainly seems to have cornered the market on playing toothless old fusspots who make for great comic relief, while the very distinctive Hank Worden does some good work in a small part. The monochromatic photography works alright, as does the typically Western score.
Red River ends on a note that does feel more than a little schmaltzy even by the standards of classic Hollywood, standing out even amidst the generally idealistic myth-making that characterised Westerns of the era. Even though it's easy to look at such a resolution and roll one's eyes, one can't help but appreciate how it subverts the expected and set-up conclusion in one fell swoop. The film as a whole may be a bit by-the-numbers as far as classic Westerns go, but it's still an enjoyable enough piece of work more often than not. It might stand to be tighter, but there are still some well-handled moments that not only work well at defining the characters but also have greater ramifications for the story at large (the most obvious instance of which being one minor character's habit of casually stealing tiny amounts of sugar ultimately leading to shockingly major consequences). Hawks would arguably refine this capacity for conveying smaller stories within a more basic overarching narrative and depicting character development with later films (especially Rio Bravo), but even for a rough draft Red River proves fairly watchable.
Howard Hawks, 1948
A cattle baron plans on conducting a massive cattle drive but runs into trouble when his draconian demands cause his subordinates to mutiny.
John Wayne might just be the most iconic actor in the Western genre, serving as a strong representation of the classic pre-revisionism Western as a result. Despite that, he was still able and willing to appear in films that challenged his status as the strident hero of the wild frontier. Red River is a prominent example of a film where Wayne is made to play a character with more depth and flaws than usual that push him beyond being a mere anti-hero. He starts off as a member of a cattle-driving operation whose decision to strike out on his own proves fortuitous when his former convoy is attacked. Starting off with only two cattle and a couple of subordinates, he soon carves out a large tract of land for himself and becomes a prominent cattle baron in his own right. Years later, he plans to launch what is then the largest cattle drive to ever happen along with his faithful offsiders (Montgomery Clift and Walter Brennan). The ambitious nature of the undertaking proves troublesome for numerous reasons and Wayne's intention of keeping control of his outfit by any means necessary eventually leads the men under him to question his authority; this of course includes Clift, an orphan who had grown up with Wayne as a father figure and thus finds himself torn between loyalty and pragmatism.
Under the guidance of malleable genre filmmaker Hawks, Red River proves a decent example of a Western. It does have its flaws - in many respects it's a little too long and monotonous as it captures the details of the cattle drive in excruciating detail, which can get a little boring at times (especially taking into account how it's shorter than Hawks' later Western Rio Bravo yet somehow feels longer). Wayne gets the chance to play a character with some depth as he is also haunted by the woman he lost to a murderous Native, while Clift gets his own fairly complex journey as he is forced to stand up to the domineering Wayne not just out of necessity but also out of an inner need to prove himself not just to Wayne but to himself. His defiance of Wayne is also complicated by his relationship with Joanne Dru's feisty pioneer woman, who definitely stands out here as she delivers a memorably strong performance. Other recognisable Western players pop up and deliver decent turns; between this and Rio Bravo, Brennan certainly seems to have cornered the market on playing toothless old fusspots who make for great comic relief, while the very distinctive Hank Worden does some good work in a small part. The monochromatic photography works alright, as does the typically Western score.
Red River ends on a note that does feel more than a little schmaltzy even by the standards of classic Hollywood, standing out even amidst the generally idealistic myth-making that characterised Westerns of the era. Even though it's easy to look at such a resolution and roll one's eyes, one can't help but appreciate how it subverts the expected and set-up conclusion in one fell swoop. The film as a whole may be a bit by-the-numbers as far as classic Westerns go, but it's still an enjoyable enough piece of work more often than not. It might stand to be tighter, but there are still some well-handled moments that not only work well at defining the characters but also have greater ramifications for the story at large (the most obvious instance of which being one minor character's habit of casually stealing tiny amounts of sugar ultimately leading to shockingly major consequences). Hawks would arguably refine this capacity for conveying smaller stories within a more basic overarching narrative and depicting character development with later films (especially Rio Bravo), but even for a rough draft Red River proves fairly watchable.