John Wayne, An Appreciation

For your consideration, the following article I published on Helium today. Politics aside.

John Wayne, Actor (An Appreciation)

John Wayne was the definitive Western Hero. From his early years as one of the “Sons of the Pioneers” to his breakout role in “Stagecoach” in 1939, and all the way through to his last film, “The Shootist,” Wayne was the personification of Western Swagger -- a combination of confidence and righteousness that could never be defeated. Eventually he only had to play himself: just his name at the top of the marquis told the audience what to expect. In that sense Wayne, born Marion Martin, became the stereotype of the Victorious American Hero. His other roles, even in war epics, did not bring out that same reassuring, old shoe comfort of knowing what to expect in a John Wayne Western -- lots of action with Wayne standing tall as the gun smoke cleared. His image became so indelible that even his outfit stayed the same from film to film, character to character.

A John Wayne character was simple, straightforward, and sure. And yet, among his dizzying body of work, there were many standout performances of characters layered in complexity, even downright ugliness, that allowed Wayne to portray a character unlike and beyond his persona. Knowing the actor is Wayne colors our appreciation and enjoyments of these roles now, where Wayne is the actor instead. But these are stellar performances in masterful films. For your consideration (listed by year of release):

“Stagecoach” (1939), directed by John Ford, is one of ‘39’s bumper crop of great films that included “Gone With The Wind” and “The Wizard of Oz.” it also marked Wayne’s emergence as a star, playing the young, wronged man on a vengeance trail that gets hijacked by his efforts to help his fellow passengers survive a harrowing run through hostile Indian territory.

“Red River” (1948), directed by Howard Hawkes, is my second favorite Wayne film of all time. It is his most complex performance as an uncompromising and often cruel tyrant of a cattle boss during a drive. In a film filled with rough men and sharp edges, Wayne’s performance is spot on and courageously unsympathetic.

“Fort Apache” (1948), directed by John Ford. In this brilliant story of life at the edge of the frontier lived under the command of a blind megalomaniac, Wayne gets to play the more understanding junior officer to Henry Fonda against type as the tyrannical, ill-advised cavalry commander who foolishly leads half his command into disaster. The balancer between the two men is perfect.

“Hondo” (1953), directed by John Farrow. This film may have gone a long way to creating the persona Wayne eventually would become -- self assured, rigged individualist with an unyielding moral compass. Army scout Wayne comes across a woman and her son who seem oblivious to an impending Apache uprising. The horsemanship alone is thrilling, and the scenery breathtaking in a taut, well told story.

“The Searchers” (1956), directed by John Ford. Not only is this my favorite John Wayne film, it is one of the greatest American films of all time. Wayne portrays a hardened Civil War veteran, bitter from his losses, who takes his nephew on a relentless quest to rescue his niece, kidnapped by Indians during a raid on his family’s home. The film is brutal and honest, showing the humanity and inhumanity on both sides. And Wayne’s turn as fractious Ethan Edwards is spellbinding up to the very last scene.

“Rio Bravo” (1959), directed by Howard Hawkes. This is one of several virtually interchangeable John Wayne oaters. The plots are all similar with Wayne in the same shirt, cowboy hat and bandanna and wielding a Winchester with his handgun gently riding his hip, bringing or upholding justice with the help of an assortment of secondary characters that always includes one has-been and/or drunk who rises to the occasion and achieves a level of redemption. This one, with the help of Dean Martin as the drunk (yes, he could act), Ricky Nelson as the arrogant young gun, Walter Brennan as the cantankerous deputy (does anyone do cantankerous better?), and Angie Dickinson as the way too young love interest, is the best of this crop.

“The Alamo” (1960), directed by John Wayne. For a long time this film was looked down upon as a bit of bombastic self-indulgence. The truth is, this was Wayne’s personal homage to American heroism, with himself in the director’s chair as well as portraying Davy Crockett. There are more than one pretty speech, and it takes a while to get to the final battle, but that battle is rousing, tragic and heroic all at the same time. For a study in heroism, it is interesting that Wayne chose a battle that ended in defeat. The men who died there were America’s 300 Spartans. And though Wayne did not have to stretch to portray Crockett, he did one thing admirably well. Casting himself and casting Richard Widmark as Jim Bowie lent credibility to the film because Crockett and Bowie each was fifty years old at the Alamo.

“The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance” (1962), directed by John Ford, is another of the great American films, an amazing study of new versus old and the true nature of doing what’s right. Wayne plays the odd man out in a romantic triangle who rises above his beliefs and feelings to help Jimmy Stewart bring civilization to the West and earn himself a grand political career in the bargain. Lee Marvin is a standout in the title role\.

“True Grit” (1969), directed by Henry Hathaway, gets an honorable mention here because Wayne earned an Oscar for playing Rooster Cogburn, the one eyed codger who becomes protector of a vengeance seeking 14 year old girl. I saw nothing remarkable in the film and believe the Academy was rewarding Wayne for his body of work. I thought Wayne was being a bit too much Wayne and the action more improbable than a Clint Eastwood spaghetti Western. And with the new version out, it seems certain that these filmmakers missed much of the wealth in Charles Portis’ 1968 novel.

“The Shootist” (1976), directed by Don Siegel. Wayne is an aging gunfighter dying of cancer, who manages to find a way to go out in a blaze of gunfire. The character is a stoic, sad, old, finished man looking for one instant of his long gone youth to relive. With Jimmy Stewart as the doctor who diagnoses him and Lauren Bacall as the boarding house matron who rents him a room are wonderful, and Ron Howard -- who has often said he learned much about filmmaking from working with Wayne on this film -- plays Bacall’s son, an impressionable youth who relishes in Wayne’s violent past and present as much as his mother abhors it. This was Wayne’s 184th and last film, a fitting end for a man who died of stomach cancer in June 1979.