She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)
Ford's follow-up to Fort Apache (1948) lacks that work's thematic depth and complexity, but is a wortwhile picture in its own right. She Wore a Yellow Ribbon is a fine hymn to the US military and one of the most visually-spectacular Westerns ever. Its minor faults do not seriously harm a mostly enjoyable film.
Captain Nathan Brittles (John Wayne) is a few days away from retirement, but events elsewhere throw a spanner in the works. Custer's 7th Cavalry has recently been massacred, and Indians all over the West are uniting in preparation for all-out war. Brittles leads a patrol to try and avert war, being forced to accomodate the wife (Mildred Natwick) of his commanding officer (George O'Brien) and pretty young Olivia (Joanne Dru), who finds herself romantically pursued by Lieutenants Cohill (John Agar) and Pennell (Harry Carey Jr.). Brittles reaches his retirement, but unofficially tags along on one last mission.
She Wore a Yellow Ribbon is perhaps best-viewed as a visual experience. Cinematographer Winton C. Hoch won an Oscar for his beautiful Technicolor photography, and it's extremely well-deserved. Monument Valley has never looked lovier, and at times the film bears comparison to Lawrence of Arabia and 2001: A Space Odyssey in its visual grandeur. Ford and Hoch's visual storytelling is without peer, with the beautiful crags, mesas, buttes and red dust of Monument Valley making an incredible impression. Every shot is beautifully composed, with cavalry crossing the desert, herds of buffalo and chases and skirmishes providing a rich visual treat. The final raid on an Indian camp provides an exciting climax.
As in Fort Apache, Yellow Ribbon is primarily a celebration of military life. The film has a sparse, episodic narrative, focusing on a "day in the life" of the US Cavalry, on a routine patrol through the desert that's ultimately a failure. Bad guys - not only the Indians but sleazy gun-runners - are almost inconsequential. As before, the Army is presented as a family where differences of class, race and so on are put aside for a greater good: most poignantly, a brief subplot features ex-Confederate Sergeant Tyreen (Ben Johnson) burying a former colleague (Rudy Bowman) with full Confederate honors. Dubious though it may be, this picture of military life is at least artfully expressed.
The film does have its share of faults. The story is sparse and oft-non-existent, but this is of minimal importance. The awkward love triangle is badly handled and comes off as a distraction. Most unfortunate of all, Victor McLaglen is on-hand to provide his trademark drunk Irishman schtick, and the movie features an obnoxious brawl towards the end that seems jarringly out of place. The final scene, with Brittles returning to military life, seems equally odd and somewhat unsatisfying: it has a curious (if wholly unintentional) resonnance with The Hurt Locker, of a soldier who's happy only in uniform. That film's protagonist comes back because he's off his nut; Brittles stays because, well, who'd want to leave such a perfect family?
John Wayne gives one of his best performances as Captain Brittles. As in Red River, Wayne convincingly plays a much older character and fills it with the right mixture of pride and weariness. Wayne surprisingly comes off best in the quiet moments, particularly his visits to his wife's grave and his farewell to the troopers. It's well that Wayne is so good, as the supporting cast is mostly unremarkable - even the pretty Joanne Dru doesn't come off well - but who really can complain?
Sergeant Rutledge (1960)
The product of a post-The Searchers, revisionist Ford, Sergeant Rutledge (1960) is a noble attempt at acknowledging the heroism of the all-black "Buffalo Soldiers." Mostly a good film, it unfortunately leans heavily on a trite trial structure and over-emphatic speechmaking. Problematic though it is, it's certainly more entertaining and less obnoxious than Cheyenne Autumn (1963), Ford's later attempt at correcting his portrayal of Native Americans.
Sergeant Braxton Rutledge (Woody Strode), the "top soldier" of the all-black 9th US Cavalry, is on trial for the murder of a superior officer and the rape of the latter's daughter. The evidence is mostly circumstantial, but the bigoted prosecutor (Carleton Young) seems able to prove that Rutledge committed crime. His commanding officer, Lieutenant Cantrell (Jeffrey Hunter), defends Rutledge, showing that he is a model, heroic soldier caught in an unfortunate situation. Still, Rutledge's fate seems sealed until a convenient discovery unmasks the real culprit.
Sergeant Rutledge is a noble effort at showing the role of African-Americans in taking the Old West, a sadly neglected chapter of American history. Ford is highly successful here: using the same gorgeous Monument Valley locations as Yellow Ribbon, he shows his Buffalo Soldiers as every bit the equal of their white counterparts, fighting Indians, engaging in comradely banter and being generally heroic. This squares perfectly with Ford's vision of the military as an all-inclusive melting pot, and seeing African-Americans trodding in the footsteps of John Wayne and Co. is a fitting enough tribute, though Rutledge is so idealized that his innocence is never in doubt. These sections of the film are entertaining and well-done, and aside from an over-emphatic speech or two, Ford succeeds at "setting the record straight."
Unfortunately, Sergeant Rutledge is not just a Western, but a "significant" film dealing with important social issues. Ford bookends the film with an awkward, creaky trial that smacks of low-rent Stanley Kramer, conveniently putting racial prejudice on trial with Rutledge. Besides making for a stiff and preachy drama, Ford unfortunately interjects humor into these scenes, with Billie Burke's old biddy particularly obnoxious. Some neat directoral flourishes - fades to silhouette at key moments, hard cutting to flashbacks - and fine acting help, but the overly-convenient Perry Mason-esque ending rings false. This awkward mix of preaching and humor drags down an otherwise fine Western.
Woody Strode (The Professionals) shines in his largest film role. Occasionally stiff, the statuesque Strode is nonetheless perfectly cast, and he nails his character's big scenes, particularly his emotional courtroom outburst. Strode doesn't get enough credit for helping to break Hollywood's color barrier, and this is arguably his finest hour. Nominal star Jeffrey Hunter (The Searchers) does surprisingly well with a weak character; Constance Towers (The Horse Soldiers), less so. The supporting cast is mixed: Juano Hernandez (Intruder in the Dust) acquits himself well, and Carleton Young (The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance) is solid in a larger-than-normal role, but Willis Bouchey and Billie Burke's (The Wizard of Oz) courtroom sparring is beyond annoying.
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