Americas 250th Birthday Cinemathon #35: Sergeant York (1941)

 

There’s a rich wealth of movies about World War I, but not many high-profiles ones that are actually American-centric. The majority of US citizens had no desire to get entangled in a large war between imperial European powers. Opinion slowly shifted over the course of the Great War, partly because of effective British propaganda (Anglo-American sentiment was growing strong thanks to shared language) and also because of German U-boat attacks on American shipping (they targeted ships carrying war material). The United States declared war in 1917, but it wasn’t until 1918 that it had an army ready to fight in Europe. The army suffered over 116,000 deaths, which seems light compared to the American Civil War and World War II, but was actually appalling when you consider how little time the Yanks actually spent on the front lines.

America’s reluctance to enter a global conflict and then it’s decision to join later, made the first war ripe material for interventionist propaganda come World War II. Sergeant York, based on the life of Medal of Honor winner Alvin York, plays into this, released in the middle of 1941 when America had not yet been attacked at Pearl Harbor. Thus this is actually a bit of interventionist propaganda, but regardless it’s a pretty good movie.

Actually, Sergeant York is not primarily a war movie thought the titular character’s military performance is the culmination of his character’s growth. Alvin York’s story resonated deeply with Americans because his background was linked to the earlier frontier figures of United States history. He grew up in the Appalachian hills of East Tennessee with little formal education and was an incredible shot with a rifle. Thus Americans had a mountain man, a tough yet humble hero, making his name in what was at the time a shocking revelation of modern war.

Americas 250th Birthday Cinemathon #34: Rough Riders (1997)

 

Most of the movies I’ve watched have taken place within the confines of today’s United States. With Rough Riders, America starts to take a more active role on the global stage. Back in the 1890s, a not entirely accurate press whipped up support for Cuban independence from Spain. After the destruction of the military USS Maine  (long proven to have been an accident and not a Spanish plot) off Havana, Cuba, the US declared war and ended up with several overseas possessions. The idea of creating an overseas empire was extremely controversial at the time, with detractors seeing it as an attempt to emulate the aggression of European powers and the defenders believing it would serve America’s economic interests or, as Theodore Roosevelt believed, keep America’s heroic frontier spirit alive.

The Spanish-American War was an extremely lopsided victory for the United States. Naturally, the only part of the war that could warrant a heroic war film were the land battles in Cuba, where Teddy Roosevelt and his volunteer Rough Riders would distinguish themselves at San Juan Hill. Such a film materialized as a TNT miniseries thanks to Roosevelt fans Tom Berenger and John Milius. Berenger was the initiator, having gotten the idea while playing James Longstreet in Gettysburg. He wasn’t going to direct, however, and chose John Milius for the job.

Milius had already filmed Roosevelt in his 1975 epic The Wind and the Lion, where Brian Keith (who plays President James McKinley for a couple scenes in Rough Riders) turned in an incredible performance as the 26^th president (I almost added this movie to my list to get more Roosevelt, but alas this is his solo appearance). Milius, a rare firm conservative in Hollywood, perhaps saw himself in Roosevelt, as both used mental and physical dedication to overcome a sickly childhood.

Americas 250th Birthday Cinemathon #33: Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee (2007)

 

This is another revision of an earlier review I made. This time, however, my opinion of the movie was greatly changed on my rewatch. Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, a television movie from HBO, is based on Dee Brown’s famous history of the fall of the American Indians in the latter half of the 19th Century. Brown’s book is too widely focused to make a single movie, so HBO limited itself to the story of the Sioux, from their last great victory at Little Bighorn to the fallout of the Wounded Knee Massacre in 1890, charting their decline from a proud warrior people on the western plains to dependents on a reservation. Overall it’s a pretty accurate film, but accuracy does not always translate into a great movie.

The movie tries for a balanced account of events, though both of the primary protagonists are Sioux Indians. The first is Charles Eastman (Adam Beach). Eastman is the biggest inaccuracy of the movie. As in real life he has a Sioux father who converted to Christianity and changed his name to Jacob Eastman. For a while Charles, as Ohiyesa, lived with his mother’s people, but they were not part of the group under Sitting Bull, so Eastman’s presence at Little Bighorn is completely fictional. He was put in a mission school before having an American education program. Though the movie doesn't have him go to one of the controversial boarding schools, it still shows how Indian children were made to abandon their cultural heritage, down to adopting western names. The movie gets inaccurate with Eastman again, however, in giving him a close relationship with Henry Dawes which didn't exist, and also making him figure more in the other Sioux's lives earlier in the timeline.

What is true is that he was the first American Indian to master western medicine and became a doctor on the Great Sioux Reservation. At least in the movie his character is torn between two worlds. He can’t help but sympathize with his own people but also has a friendship with Senator Henry Dawes (Aidan Quinn) and a romantic relationship with poet and future wife Elaine Goodale (Anna Paquin, who played Rogue in the X-Men films). By the end of the movie he has grown disgusted with health conditions on the reservation as well as the misguided aspects of the Dawes Act, which forced the Sioux to become farmers and also sell off more of their already shrunken lands. Eastman was not present for most of the events in the movie and certainly did not have as many personal interactions with other major characters, but he is used to show the tensions the Sioux face between preserving some of their culture and adopting the whites’ ways.

Americas 250th Birthday Cinemathon #32: The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

Never meet your heroes…especially if they’re on the wrong side of the law.

That’s one of the messages of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, a cult classic western directed by Andrew Dominik. Of all the western outlaws, Jesse James is the most famous. Whereas most famed western robbers only lasted a few years, Jesse James’ career of armed robbery ran from 1866 to 1882, and he was never properly defeated by the law itself, as the title of this movie indicates. Jesse James originated as a Confederate guerilla during the Civil War, gaining some notoriety alongside his older brother Frank. They disapproved of the post-war changes after the Union victory and practically continued the war by robbing Union-friendly targets. They joined up with other outlaws to form the James-Younger gang, and were known for their daring train, bank, and stagecoach robberies. One factor in their success was that they operated in Missouri, Tennessee, Mississippi, and other territory with ex-Confederates. The press and many citizens began to lionize them as continued resistance against Northern tyranny. Outside of politics, there were also claims that they shared their money with the poor. This was not true.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (based on a novel by Ron Hansen) is actually something of a historiographical study. The actual main protagonist Robert Ford, grew up worshipping Jesse James and sees him as the romantic Robin-Hood like outlaw of cheap novels and sensationalized newspaper articles. This view of Jesse James led to a whole slew of movies I could have chosen from, most of them horribly inaccurate (as a kid I saw a Roy Rogers one where he helped fight the stock western villain of the railroad tycoon. Though set in Missouri, it looks like they’re way further west thanks to the filming in California hills). Andrew Dominik’s movie is much closer to history, and shows what happens when the legend falls far from the myth.

Americas 250th Birthday Cinemathon #31: Tombstone (1993)

 

One of YouTube channel Honest Trailers’ jokes about the movie Tombstone is that it answers the questions “what if you only made a movie out of the good parts.” Only modestly successful at the box office, this new telling of Wyatt Earp and his adventures around Tombstone became a staple of Cable television and is now regarded as one of the most awesome (and manly) movies ever made. This was a real treat on my watchlist, as it somehow is generally accurate while still retaining the feel of an entertaining blockbuster. It’s got an unbelievably full and incredible cast, and it’s a testament to both the actors and the screenplay that nearly all of them leave their mark.

What’s interesting about Tombstone was that it was a sincere update of the classic Western outline. Our protagonist or protagonists show up in a town riddled by chaos. Though reluctant, they ultimately have to use violence to clean up the place. Indeed, this might be the last high-profile Western to not be a deconstructive film. If you ask me, the idea of the deconstructionist Western has been well overplayed by now. Film reporters and critics are always gushing about films for challenging the classic American myth of the West, but these days it’s hardly a brave and bold stance within Hollywood. But that’s not what this review is about, so I’ll get back on topic.

Before going further, I should note that there are two major sources of the inaccuracies in Tombstone. One is that the timeline is simplified and condensed. The time of the Earps’ arrival in Tombstone to the Vendetta Ride was between two and three years. The movie makes it feel much shorter. Also, the characters were up to a lot more, often changing jobs and in the case of love interest Josephine actually leaving the town for a while before coming back. One switcheroo in time is that Doc Holliday seems to die shortly after the Vendetta Ride and then Wyatt links back up with his romantic interest. Actually, Holliday lingered on until 1887, about five years after the movie ends.

Americas 250th Birthday Cinemathon #30: Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (1973)

 Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid is one of the few movies on my list which I watched for the first time. Directed by Sam Peckinpah in the New Hollywood era of the 70s, I was very interested to see what it would be like. Peckinpah directed the famous Wild Bunch, a big deconstruction of the western. However his follow-up, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, has not fared so well in memory. It did rather poorly on its initial release and was panned critically to boot. The main cause was MGM’s president James Aubrey, who first interfered with time and budget constraints and then, more infamously, forced cuts that undermined the story and themes of the movie.

The theatrical cut removed almost 20 minutes of the movie. Since then Warner Brothers and the Criterion Channel have attempted to release the definitive cut. Apparently I should have watched Criterion’s 50^th anniversary version, but I opted for the Final Preview Cut which is the longest at 124 minutes. Strangely it was a mix of high blu-ray quality and grainy film. I won’t get too much more into the movie’s troubled production, but if you’re into reading about behind-the-scenes chaos this movie is a goldmine.

On to the history, Billy the Kid is one of the more romanticized outlaws of American history. This can be attributed to the very young age when he started his outlaw career and some of the sympathetic circumstances that propelled him to notoriety. As William Bonney he had committed various crimes in his teenage years and had been one of the more dangerous shooters of the Lincoln County War in New Mexico. Even though he was hardly the only one to kill in the war, Bonney was still labeled an outlaw. He gave key testimony in a murder trial in exchange for amnesty from Governor Lew Wallace (Jason Robards plays him for one scene), but did not get what he asked for. From there he became a more hardened outlaw, leading to the events depicted in Peckinpah’s film.

Americas 250th Birthday Cinemathon #29: Son of the Morning Star (1991)

 

I’ve actually already written a review of this one, so this is a revised version with a little more to it. Son of the Morning Star is a two-part TV adaptation of Evan S. Connell's non-fiction book of the same name. The title is one of the Cheyenne names for Colonel George Custer, who led a daytime assault on their camp on the Washita River. I was originally drawn to this film after watching the heavily inaccurate Errol Flynn as Custer flick They Died with Their Boots On. Unfortunately the mini-series (which did not perform to expectations) has still not received a cleaned up DVD or streaming release, so I had to watch a VHS rip on Youtube (yes, it's completely free, albeit with some ad breaks). While the picture quality is fuzzy, I have to say that I was very pleased with this "movie" and feel that it deserves more attention for being the most accurate coverage of Custer and Little Bighorn. I’ve even rewatched it twice.

George Armstrong Custer literally joined the American Civil War out of West Point. His audacious bravery propelled his career, and he ended the war as both a brevet general of volunteers and one of General Phil Sheridan’s favorites. With the army shrinking, he was shunted down to the rank of colonel (a common problem for many who earned extra start leading volunteers in the Civil War) and was sent out West to deal several Indian wars. Custer’s vanity and recklessness often got him into hot water with his superiors, but it was his last stand and death at the Little Bighorn that ensured he would be remembered for all of American history.