Western #3: Stagecoach
Stagecoach (1939) is the story of a group of travelers that book passage on a stagecoach despite the looming threat of ravaging Apache Indians along their route. Directed by John Ford, featuring his first location shoot in the Monument Valley, the film is also the breakout role for John Wayne, who would go on to become the iconic hero of the Western genre. The film’s script and ensemble cast of characters truly stand the test of time, while also presenting a complex discussion around race and gender relations, specifically on the concept of marriage. The third film in the Western Marathon takes us back to the early days of the Hollywood studio system, to a film that is hailed as a genre-defining classic.
As a stagecoach prepares to travel from Arizona to New Mexico, a disparate group of travelers assemble, only to be warned of the threat of marauding Indians. Among those accepting the danger are a pregnant wife searching for her husband, a southern gambler, a prostitute, a whiskey salesman, a drunkard doctor, a fraudulent banker, and the marshal that decides to escort the driver. The stagecoach sets off, but soon enough run into a lone traveler seeking passage to New Mexico. He is the Ringo Kid (John Wayne) and he is aiming to hunt down the men that killed his father and brother. He joins the merry group as the marshal’s prisoner and they make it safely to the first stop. Ringo takes a liking to the prostitute Dallas (Claire Trevor) and asks for her hand in marriage; she tentatively agrees, but asks him to give up his quest of vengeance. After a tense night where the Doc sobers up enough to help the wife give birth, the group travels on amidst even more danger. During this last stretch, they are set upon by the very marauding Indians they feared and are only saved at the last moment by the arrival of the US Cavalry. They arrive safely to their destination and Ringo faces the men who gunned down his family. He survives and the closing shot is Ringo and Dallas “escaping” the marshall to start a new life in Mexico.
The film is truly an ensemble piece, with a stellar script that tightly interweaves the nine characters traveling on the stagecoach, setting up natural opposites that create realistic tension and comedy. A drunkard tempted by the wares of a timid whiskey salesman; a woman of repute whose sexual acts have led to motherhood beside a woman of sin whose sexual acts earn her money; a marshal and an outlaw - both with a heart of gold. The film deftly balances drama with comedy and finds moments for the actor’s vibrant characterizations to shine through; for example, the interactions between the driver and the marshal are quite diverting. Throughout the film, the driver’s distinctive loopy voice rises in a high pitch protest that just fizzles the moment that the assertive marshal cuts him off, but he also commands a powerful timbre as he drives the horses through the landscape. The cast has such distinct personalities that half the fun of the film is watching their characters react together as a group against the increasingly dramatic situations that the stagecoach encounters.
Billed second to Claire Trevor, newly minted lead actor John Wayne is a fresh face that is doing some incredibly subtle acting, quite a difference to the style of some of his later work. Here, Wayne exudes a breezy, bemused manner, projecting a presence that sits above his petty stagecoach companions, refusing to let their bickering besmirch his genuine connection to Dallas. Wayne’s scenes with Trevor are quite magical, where he is restrained in his affection, giving just a wisp of a smile to woo her. After viewing the film, there is no wonder why Ringo Kid is his breakout performance, nor why Wayne quickly rose to stardom in Hollywood.
The Ringo Kid makes his debut!
The underlying mechanism that fuels the plot of this film centers on the looming threat of Indians, specifically chieftain Geronimo and his Apaches, as the pioneer white passengers travel across the sprawling land. There is no debate as to the motivations of why the Native Americans are on the warpath or what their specific aims and grievances are, it is just accepted as fact that they are marauding. Furthermore, the stagecoach group, which can be viewed as a microcosm of the larger Western white community, is composed of a mixture of society and status, but all of them put aside their petty differences to unite against the natives, clearly demonstrating the focus of Ford’s humanism. One refreshing point for racial portrayals in the film is that the Native Americans and Mexicans are cast as people of color (rather than white actors portraying ethnic peoples), oftentimes a rarity in Hollywood productions of the time.
The most striking sequence that addresses racial issues is a character moment in an exchange between the timid whiskey drummer and the Mexican in charge of Apache Wells, a stop along the stagecoach journey. Upon arriving, the salesman sees the innkeeper’s wife, who is an Apache Indian, and yells out:
“Salesman: “Savage!”
Innkeeper: “That’s my wife, Yakima.”
Salesman (halfheartedly): “Yes, but she’s…she’s savage.”
Innkeeper (wholeheartedly): “Si senior, she’s a little bit savage, I think!””
This exchanges demonstrates the prevailing opinion of the time - that any Native American, even a woman in a domestic role in a civilized fort - is considered a savage. But the script doesn’t leave this reaction hanging in the air; rather, it turns that presumption on its head and combats the man’s terror and ignorance with a pun that twists the word’s meaning to comment on the marriage’s sexual relationship. Although not the main message of the film, in this instance, the whiskey drummer’s racial bigotry is shown as the fool and the man of color gets the upper hand, as well as the comedic payoff.
The racial concerns of the film are fairly standard for Westerns produced in the middle part of the 20th century, but the gender politics presented are more complex and multifaceted. The main female character is a prostitute and the film is very interested in how others treat this social pariah, both in the script and in the blocking of the frame. With two notable exceptions, most everyone in the traveling company are quite concerned at mixing the upstanding woman with the rougher lady, keeping their physical distance as much as possible in a tiny coach. Ringo, who isn’t aware or doesn’t care about the prostitute’s history, pursues her regardless of their demeanor. Additionally, an incredibly tender scene occurs between the Doc and Dallas, where she seeks his guidance on whether to move forward on a relationship with Ringo. Rather than succumbing to the behavior of the fellow passengers, perhaps because of their shared experience of being chased out of town, he refuses to pass judgement on her desire to break from her past and live a new life.
The most interesting arc occurs between the two women - Dallas and Lucy, the pregnant wife seeking her military husband. Initially drawing the distinct line of differences between the two women, it takes an act of kindness on Dallas’ part to build a bridge of understanding between them. Lucy gives birth to her baby at one of the stops, and Dallas assists the doctor in the delivery, building a connection based on personal debt, but also on gratitude, one that is forged in a time of desperation out on the frontier. Once the women arrive back in civilization, however, Lucy recognizes her changed feelings, but ultimately chooses to conform to the prevailing culture. Dallas, the epitome of the fallen woman, takes this in stride with graciousness, and accepts her decision to follow the societal rule that means the woman could never actually acknowledge her.
While the film explores the relationship between a woman of repute and a woman of sin, it also presents multiple shades of marriage. The most traditional portrayal of marriage is between Lucy and her offscreen military husband. They are a white Southern couple and she is steadfastly seeking to be reunited so they can start their family together. Another seemingly stable marriage is that of the driver and his offscreen Mexican wife - he speaks of her often and mentions their large extended family. These first two examples of marriage presented in the film seem to see the institution in a positive light of devotion and embracing the significant other’s tribe, even if different from where the character originates.
The film, however, also offers a different message with portrayals of broken marriages. The morally bankrupt businessman enters the stagecoach to escape the frontier town, most likely driven to get away from his demanding wife; a loveless marriage that pushes a man towards acts of criminality. Additionally, marriage is dealt another blow from the Mexican innkeeper and his Apache wife. When the group stays the night, the wife flees the inn, taking the horses with her, to inform the raiding Apaches about the traveling band as a potential target. When her disappearance is discovered, the Innkeeper is more distraught that she stole his horse than the dissolution of his marriage. The men of the party casually comment that he can easily find a new wife. These representations of marriage speak to a journey that only leads to contempt or an ephemeral state because true loyalty is to one’s original tribe over marriage bonds.
These conflicting portraits just enhance the stakes for Ringo and Dallas’ relationship. While the rest of society sees Dallas as a damaged woman that has no chance at a traditional family life, Ringo is so moved by a vision of motherhood that he is compelled to propose after seeing Dallas hold the newborn. In the end of the film, they do get to ride off together into the beautiful Arizona landscape to live happily ever after, but they must do it south of the border. In 1939, the Hays Code held power in Hollywood, so while the white couple could find marital bliss, they must reside outside of the United States because she is a whore and he is a murderer.
The film marks Ford’s initial use of the Monument Valley of Arizona, a location that became an iconic emblem of his oeuvre, and he manages to capture the incredible scenic beauty in this first foray. Shot in black and white, the norm for 1939 (Wizard of Oz was released the same year and was one of the early films to utilize the latest color technology), the epic shots of the landscape practically beg to be presented in color. Luckily for film history, Ford worked with this location steadily in his career and was able to capture the beauty of the vistas and clouds in Technicolor. Similar to his later film The Searchers, the plot focuses on a journey, which gives Ford the premise to highlight the space by showing the stagecoach and horses moving throughout the landscape. The opening frames of the film, a depth of field shot of riders emerging from the back of the frame and galloping in toward the fort, not only establishes the desert location, but also sets up the vast space of the Monument Valley. Throughout the stagecoach journey, Ford frames shots that focus on the stagecoach moving through the desert and are meant to convey the scale of the small coach amidst the vast landscape. However, for one notable shot, he puts the camera on top of the stagecoach as it crosses a river, moving the camera from an observational angle into the middle of the action.
One of the most dynamic sequences of the film is the thrilling chase scene, featuring the stagecoach careening through the flat desert with a band of Apaches on horses galloping towards them. First of all, the stunt men in this scene are nothing short of amazing. The men reload their shotguns, tumble off their horses, and leap from their mount over to the stagecoach steeds - all while galloping at full speed. The action sequence is quite remarkable for the year it was made, considering the state of technology for filmmaking and safety considerations for the stuntmen and horses. It is a defining statement for how to film an action scene and is quite clearly the progenitor of Indiana Jones stunt themes and the most recent Mad Maxfilm in 2015. Ford defines a primer for how to film stunt scenes all the way back in the 1930s, creating a compelling action scene that features zero special effects, just pure stunt talent, great camerawork, and coherent editing. The director even knows how to frame a dramatic finish; Ford chooses to focus on Lucy’s face as she is praying, with the gambler seconds away from pulling the trigger to end her life so she is spared from being taken by the enemy. His hand sags just as the faint sound of bugles wafts into the diegetic soundscape and Lucy’s face registers the realization of their rescue. Ford chooses to end the dramatic sequence filled with thrills and acts of human daring by focusing on the humanism of one woman’s despair turned to hope. No wonder that filmmakers continue to return to this classic for inspiration, despite it being made over 75 years ago.
This film is held up as a titan in the Western genre. Ford certainly explores the landscape as part of his visual language, chronicling the group shifting between points of civilization amongst the larger scope of nature. While the film centers around the ensemble for the majority of the film, Ringo Kid is the lone man that must fight on his own against the men who murdered his family. Ford doesn’t choose to focus on this battle, but does feature the shot of the solitary man walking down the town’s main street, with his enemies looming menacing at the other end. Another palpable theme that has emerged throughout this Western marathon is the lingering tension between the North and South in the wake of the Civil War. As the passengers debate the recent past, they use the terms “war for the southern confederacy” vs the “war of the rebellion.” The Western genre seems to be a way of working out the psychological scars of the Civil War years after it took its toll on the nation.
Overall, this was an extremely enjoyable film to watch, not only for its humor, but for the well-paced structure of the plot, excellent character work by the actors, and the groundbreaking chase sequence. For me, it is miles ahead of Ford’s first film on this list, the dark and flawed The Searchers, and also has more internal life than High Noon, so it has risen to the top of the pack, edging out the other entries by sheer force of personality. Additionally, this film certainly rescued my opinion of John Wayne’s acting ability, demonstrating convincingly why he became such a star. Closing out the trio of Ford Westerns on this list is the 1946 film My Darling Clementine, a movie that covers the famous historical gunfight at the OK Corral.
