Drums Along the Mohawk

 

There are some years in film history that have become famous, even legendary.  I've always been a big fan of 1999 because I was given The Matrix, Fight Club, Sixth Sense, Being John Malkovich, Blair Witch Project (which, whether you like it or not, was incredibly groundbreaking), Three Kings, The Insider and a personal favorite of mine, Office Space.  Or check out the stacked roster of classics in 1941: Citizen Kane, Dumbo, The Maltese Falcon, Sergeant York, Sullivan's Travels, and The Lady Eve.  But the top dog in film history will probably always be 1939, which gave us Gone with the Wind, The Wizard of Oz, Stagecoach, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Wuthering Heights, The Women, Love Affair, Hunchback of Notre Dame, Beau Geste, Destry Rides Again, Goodbye Mr. Chips, Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, Ninotchka and Gunga Din.  That's a really top heavy year in terms of classics.  So it is no wonder that a film like Drums Along the Mohawk would get lost in the shuffle.  The film was a success, but as the decades have rolled on, critics have tended to focus on John Ford's other classic from the same year, Stagecoach.

I do have some mixed feelings about the film.  On one hand, I want to stick up for Drums Along the Mohawk.  It is a good film, covering a time period and place we don't normally see in cinema.  But on the other hand, it's certainly not a classic, and suffers from many of the same problems that plague Ford's other films.  

During the height of the Revolutionary War, Gilbert Martin (Henry Fonda) brings his city-born bride Lana (Claudette Colbert) to his frontier farm in New York's Mohawk Valley.  Lana is unfamiliar with the wilderness life and the adjustment is hard, but she tries to make the best of it.  But the intensifying war complicates matters.  British troops led by the villainous Caldwell (John Carradine) have allied with the local Iroquois tribes and are committed to ridding the valley of the revolutionary spirit once and for all.  

The film has a lot of touches of Ford films - a deep admiration, almost idolization, of the frontier life and those hard-working men and women who toiled the land and fought to make America.  It also features the juxtaposition between the violence of the wilderness and the resilience of the tight knit community.  Ford loves the camaraderie of his characters and fills these scenes with joy and humor.  I guess the problem is that I just don't find Ford's sense of humor particularly funny, and I never have.  I suppose it comes down to personal preference, but I just don't like Ford's brand of comedy.  Halfway through the film, when Lana goes into labor, one of Gilbert's friends gets progressively more drunk to the point that he thinks that the newborn baby is actually his, which he bitterly gripes about because he already has too many children.  If that sounds funny, then John Ford is the comedian for you!  

And yet, there is so much fascinating material in this film.  When they aren't busy having community parties, Ford's characters work the land, and always under a veil of tension because they know the British and Iroquois could attack at any time (and often do).  The film expertly weaves in true historical figures and moments such as General Herkimer and the bloody battle of Oriskany, and although the siege during the climax of the film is fictional, it was genuinely tense and much more violent than I was expecting from a film made in 1939.  They were numerous moments when I thought to myself, "Damn, that just got dark."  Drums Along the Mohawk was also Ford's first color picture, and he immediately shows a comfort and expertise with the format.  There is a scene near the end when Martin is running through the wilderness at dawn and the sky was bathed in vibrant reds and oranges that look better than almost anything I've seen.  It's truly beautiful, and all the more impressive because I know it's real and not computer-enhanced.  

I should probably take a moment to discuss Ford's depiction of Native Americans.  I do have mixed feelings about it, especially since I am viewing all of this from a modern lens.  On one hand, John Ford's U.S. cavalry films cemented the "Cowboys and Indians" stereotypes that still plague us today, and that cannot be forgotten.  On the other hand, he would often actually cast Native Americans to play Native Americans, which is admirable.  He also made a film called Cheyenne Autumn that dealt with racism and the ways the Cheyenne tribes were horribly mistreated by the government and those very same pioneers he lauded so heavily earlier in his career.  So I am conflicted.  And those conflicts are reinforced in Drums Along the Mohawk.  There are Native Americans fighting on both sides of the Revolutionary War, and the primary ally of the Americans is Blue Back, played by Chief John Big Tree, who was from the Seneca Nation.  Often, Blue Back is played for uncomfortable laughs.  His behavior is just unbelievably silly (another example of Ford's fine sense of humor), but at the same time, he might also be the most skilled and impactful character in the entire film.  Throughout the whole movie, it is almost always Blue Back who shows up in the nick of time to warn or save someone.  But then, just when I am thinking that Ford is making some progress...I see the scene where two drunk Iroquois stumble into a house and burn it down in one of the most bizarre and nonsensical sequences ever.  And then later Blue Back is silly again.  But then even later, Blue Back is awesome again.  So I don't know where all this leaves me, but I feel it is something worth discussing.

At the end of the day, I do think Drums Along the Mohawk is worth watching.  I would absolutely recommend it because when the film is working, it really is a fascinating and interesting look at a moment in history we don't often see in movies.  It's just been overshadowed by all the other great films of 1939.  And while it may not live up the high standards of those films, that doesn't mean that Drums Along the Mohawk needs to be forgotten.  

MVP:  

This one is easy.  I know I didn't get into the performances in my review, but they were pretty good.  Henry Fonda and Claudette Colbert are both solid, and the character actors who pop up in most of Ford's films, like Ward Bond, are always a pleasure to see.  But one actor stands taller than the rest - Edna May Oliver as Mrs. McKlenner, a fiercely independent and strong woman who hires Gilbert and Lana to work her farm after her husband dies.  She is grumpy, bitter, sarcastic, stubborn, dominating and not a little flirty with some of the younger men in town.  She's also fiercely loyal and protective, and she will not hesitate for a moment to pick up a rifle and fight for what she has worked her whole life to build.  She's a supreme badass.  The Oscars must have agreed because she was nominated for Best Supporting Actress.  It's not a surprise.  Whenever she enters a scene, it's like a hurricane barrels into the room.  She just utterly dominates.  That is a clear MVP winner to me.  

BEST LINE: 

Okay, I will be a hypocrite here.  I may not like John Ford's sense of humor, but this line made me laugh.  Here is a moment from the reverend's Sunday sermon.  

Reverend Rosencrantz: O Almighty God, hear us, we beseech Thee, and bring succor and guidance to those we are about to bring to Your divine notice.  First, we are thinking of Mary Walaber.  She is only 16 years old, but she is keeping company with a soldier from Fort Dayton.  He's a Massachusetts man, and Thou knows no good can come of that.  

TRIVIA: 

Henry Fonda is actually descended from a family that settled the Mohawk Valley in the mid-1600s.  One of his ancestors Douw Jellis Fonda was actually killed by the Tories and Iroquois in 1780 during a raid that was similar to the ones seen in this movie.  Douw's two sons (one of whom was Henry Fonda's Great-Great-Great-Great Grandfather) were taken prisoner and held in Canada for two years.  

Maltese Falcon

I have had a lot of fun revisiting old classics lately.  In my most recent review of Double Indemnity, I talked a lot about not apologizing if you don't like a "classic" film.  I know a lot of people who don't like Citizen Kane, for example, but they always feel the need to apologize for that.  I've been guilty of doing this myself - with Double Indemnity, in fact.  I would say things like, "I respect it, but I don't like it."  But there was another important point in that review.  Sometimes you have to give something a second chance. I saw Double Indemnity again and loved it. And in a weird sort of way, the world opened up to me.  What other classic movies did I not like?  What other iconic films should I give another chance to?  Which films did I feel most "guilty" about not liking?

The Maltese Falcon is a beloved film, and an incredibly important movie in cinema history.  In high school, I enthusiastically watched it and remembered being bored to tears.  But this film is so highly and universally accepted that I almost felt bad for not liking it.  The film was a great success, earning three Academy Award nominations in a very competitive year (including Best Picture), and has an 8.0 on IMDB, a 96% on Metacritic, and a 100% on Rotten Tomatoes. These are some strong stats.  If there was a ever a film I would change my mind about, odds were this was going to be the one!

And my opinion did change.  Just not as much as I had hoped.  But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

Private detective Sam Spade (Humphrey Bogart, Casablanca) and his partner Miles Archer (Jerome Cowan, Miracle on 34th Street) are hired by a new client named Ruth Wonderly (Mary Astor, The Great Lie) to find her missing sister.  The only clue is that the sister has thrown in with a violent man named Floyd Thursby.  The duo take the case, and Archer agrees to tail Thursby that night to see if he might lead them to Wonderly's sister.  Before the night is over, Archer and Thursby are both murdered, Wonderly has disappeared, and Sam Spade is looking like the most likely suspect.  But things get even more complicated real quick.  A trio of mysterious and dangerous men show up, Joel Cairo (Peter Lorre, Casablanca), Kasper Gutman (Sidney Greenstreet, also Casablanca) and Wilmer (Elisha Cook, Jr., not Casablanca, but The Big Sleep).  These three are looking for a priceless relic called The Maltese Falcon and are willing to do anything to get it.  They think Sam Spade might have a clue to its whereabouts.  At the same time, Ruth Wonderly reappears and also reintroduces herself as Brigid O'Shaughnessy.  She admits to using a fake name and had been hoping to use Spade and Archer to help find the falcon for herself.  She still wants it, but is afraid for her life after Archer and Thursby's murders.

Without a doubt, I can say I liked the film much more than I used to.  That's a fact.  There is a lot of great stuff in here.  First of all, the acting is terrific across the board.  You can see why this film turned Sydney Greenstreet into a star and Humphrey Bogart into a superstar.  You have strong support from Elisha Cook, Jr. and especially a brilliant Peter Lorre, and Mary Astor, who was arguably the biggest star of the group when the film was made, and an Oscar winner that same year for The Great Lie, is also excellent as the mysterious O'Shaughnessy.  I should also say this is the directorial debut for John Huston, whose legendary career spanned four decades and included classics such as The Treasure of Sierra Madre and The African Queen.  His direction here is assured and confident and its clear that this is a filmmaker who is about to launch into some great things.

The character of Sam Spade is also interesting and, surprisingly for a 1940s film, a bit morally ambiguous. He's definitely not a hero.  Other than being slightly annoyed by having to deal with the police, he doesn't seem to care that his partner was murdered.  He only really seems to be interested in watching his own back, and is he demanding that O'Shaughnessy exchange sex for his protection?  The movie doesn't outright say so, but I'm pretty sure he is. Especially for the time period, I found that to be fascinating.

This film has become the archetype for the detective film and is basically the granddaddy of the film noir genre (though I personally don't quite think its noir.), and Bogart's Sam Spade has been burned into the public consciousness as the quintessential private eye.  The film, quite simply, has become iconic.

But at the same time, I think The Maltese Falcon is far from perfect.  And I don’t think it is me being picky or judging the film with "modern eyes," so to speak.  I think there are some fundamental problems that I’m surprised other people haven’t mentioned, including critics back in 1941.  One big problem is that for significant stretches, the movie can be sort of, well, dull.  Personally, I think the primary flaw is that the film breaks the “show don’t tell” rule.  There are some long sequences where characters are just telling each other stuff.  They keep talking at each other, instead of with each other, and it all just begins to grow wearisome.  For example, a huge problem with the film is that we never see Sam Spade solve the mystery.  He just tells people he did.  And he doesn’t even explain how he figured it out.  He just has a long speech saying that he did.  I’m not sure why this bothers me so much, but I think it’s a major flaw. 

And I think it’s a shame because generally the dialogue is well written.  And when there are dialogue exchanges, the film crackles with wit and brilliance.  I like the scenes with Sam Spade antagonizing Wilmer.  And any scene where Bogart and Peter Lorre bounce off each other is priceless.  Wow, that sequence where Joel Cairo tries to search Spade’s office might be one of the funniest scenes Bogart and Lorre ever got to play. Unfortunately, as the movie goes on, we start to get less and less lines of dialogue and more and more paragraphs.  And the result is that, just as the movie should be getting more exciting, I start to get less interested because I'm being talked at.  I don't want to listen to a bunch of people lecturing each other.  And I don’t want them to tell me everything. As a viewer, I want to witness it.  I want to experience it.  Show, don't tell, damn it!  

I also want to single out one scene that confused me, so some SPOILERS here.  So Gutman asks Spade over for a drink and then monologues about the history of the Falcon.  Spade realizes the drink has been drugged and passes out.  Wilmer comes in and kicks Spade in the face, just for spite.  Oh, yeah, I thought to myself, some drama.  How's Spade going to get out of this one?  But then...Wilmer and Gutman just leave.  Hours later, Spade wakes up, and shrugs it all off like it was nothing.  And nothing is ever mentioned about it again - even when Spade confronts Gutman and Wilmer just a few scenes later.  What was the point of that?  Some would say they drugged Spade to get him out of the way.  The bad guys had discovered where the falcon was, so they didn't need Spade any more.  So why not just kill him then?  They certainly killed other people.  Or if you don't want to kill him, why not at least tie him up so he doesn't just walk out of the building when he wakes up?  Or wait - I have an even better question, if they didn't need him, then why invite him over for a drink to begin with?  Why did they even have the conversation and waste my time?  What was the point?  Ugh, this scene was frustrating. 

So at the end of the day, where does that leave me?  I do like Maltese Falcon more than I used to. There is no doubt about that. I understand why it is an iconic classic that deserves to be on any list of the most important and influential films ever.  But a Best Movie list?  I’m not so sure.  Those movies need to stand the test of time and be just as entertaining now as they were when they were first released.  Casablanca has that magic.  As unpopular an opinion that this may be, I just don’t think The Maltese Falcon measures up. 

BEST LINE:

It's the most famous line of the movie and justifiably so.  And I think it's made even better when you know that it wasn't in the original script.  The line, inspired by Shakespeare's The Tempest, was a suggestion from Bogart himself.

Detective (holding the Falcon): It's heavy.  What is it? 

Sam Spade: The, uh, stuff dreams are made of.


TRIVIA:

Wow, this one is tough.  The Maltese Falcon has so many fun facts!

How about this film being a remake?  This was actually the third attempt in less than a decade to film Dashiell Hammett's book.  The second attempt, Satan Met a Lady, was a comedy starring Bette Davis!  Those other two versions had flopped, but Huston had the sense that he could do it right.  

How about that ship captain who staggers into Spade's office and dies?  That's Walter Huston, John Huston's dad!  And apparently, John had his father do an absurd number of takes of this tiny cameo, just as a practical joke. 

How about the fact that the film was supposed to star George Raft, who turned it down because he didn't want to work with a first time director.  It's not the only time Bogart benefitted from Raft's short sightedness.  Raft also turned down High Sierra, All Through the Night, and according to some film historians, Casablanca.

There's also the term that slipped by the censors.  Spade keeps calling Wilmer "gunsel," which most people think is a reference to Wilmer's being Gutman's enforcer or gunman.  That's not the case.  It's actually a Yiddish word, literally meaning "little goose," and is a derogatory term for a young gay man in a relationship with a much older man.  This explains why Wilmer keeps getting angry whenever Spade calls him that. 


MVP:

This one is actually really difficult.  I want to say Humphrey Bogart and I really should.  He is truly electric, and it is easy to see why this film made him such a big star.  But my personal MVP has to be Peter Lorre as Joel Cairo.  He is hilarious and pathetic, and he has terrific chemistry with Bogart, Astor, Greenstreet - heck, pretty much everyone.  He's just terrific and lights up the screen whenever he appears.  I know this is Bogart's movie, but Lorre is my MVP.