They Died With Their Boots On

Raoul Walsh's They Died With Their Boots On (1941) is pretty much *the* textbook example of Hollywood's chicanery with historical facts. It's also a rousing, action-packed historical epic with Errol Flynn at his most charming and heroic. So why complain?

George Armstrong Custer (Errol Flynn) is an ambitious, somewhat pompous young man who aspires to be a glorious soldier. He bumbles his way through West Point, nursing a rivalry with fellow cadet Sharp (Arthur Kennedy) and earning a record number of demerits. And yet he cultivates friendships with bigwigs Philip Sheridan (John Litel) and Winfield Scott (Sydney Greenstreet), so that when the Civil War breaks out he's given a cavalry command. His recklessness and insubordination pays off, especially at Gettysburg, where he helps turn the tide against Lee's Army of Northern Virginia. After the war, accompanied by wife Libby (Olivia de Havilland), Custer is posted out west and takes command of the 7th Cavalry, a rowdy, undisciplined unit he moulds into a superb fighting force. Custer's career is put in peril when his old "pal" Sharp shows up as the head of a railroad company. When Custer refuses to allow Sharp passage into the Black Hills, Sharp tricks settlers into starting a gold rush - leading to war with Sioux leader Crazy Horse (Anthony Quinn) and, ultimately, Custer's Last Stand.

George Custer is a fascinating historical personage, who has come to embody (depending on your point-of-view) frontier heroism or white imperialism. A mixture of good motives and bad, egomania and heroism, respect for Indians and willingness to wage war on them, Custer is ideal for a really good biopic. And yet no film has adequately captured his complex personality. John Ford's Fort Apache is probably closest to the truth, though Henry Fonda's Colonel Thursday lacks the historical Custer's respect for Indian culture. We can disregard Little Big Man's clownish caricature altogether, I think, and other efforts (Custer of the West) are uninteresting duds. Which leaves us with this film, the purest embodiment of the Custer myth.

The inaccuracies of They Died With Their Boots On will give even a novice history buff apoplexy. The Civil War scenes are patently ridiculous, with Custer winning the Battles of Bull Run and Gettysburg single-handedly through rank insubordination. The movie is sympathetic (if condescending) towards the Indians, conveniently blaming the Sioux War on the sleazy Sharps, crooked profiteers who sell liquor and guns to the Indians while building railroads into their territory. Tsk tsk. In the finale, Walsh has his cake and eats it too: Custer's last stand is heroic in spite of its injustice, a noble and suicidal gesture rather than a mixture of incompetence and hubris.

The film's portrayal of Custer is all over the place. Flynn and Walsh highlight Custer's preening egomania (he arrives at West Point in a self-made uniform with gold trim, and a team of dogs) but don't see anything wrong with it; along with his constant insubordination, the film sees it as endearing. Custer's rash and self-destructive actions at Little Big Horn are a natural outgrowth of this, but the film's contrived plot ignores the connection. Needless to say, Custer's less heroic actions - the Washita Massacre, his role in triggering the Black Hills debacle - are completely elided. Between this film, Patton and a million lesser examples, I guess us Americans like our military heroes disobedient.

We've dwelt on the historical/political side of things long enough, I think. It's not like anybody goes to an Errol Flynn film for a history lesson, anyway (see Charge of the Light Brigade). Time to examine its merits as entertainment.

They Died With Their Boots On is a real treat for classic movie buffs seeking light entertainment. Most of the fighting is depicted only in stylish montages, but the two big battle scenes (Bull Run and Little Big Horn) are thrillingly staged, with lots of extras and Bert Glennon's beautiful wide-angle cinematography. It's a beautiful film to watch and it definitely delivers its promise of exciting, breakneck action, perfectly complemented by Max Steiner's rousing score. We don't mind inaccuracy when the story is so damned enjoyable.

The most impressive thing about the film is how well-crafted it is. In just over two hours, Walsh covers Custer's time at West Point, the Civil War and the Indian Wars, mixing in a romance and personal character conflicts for good measure. And yet, the film never drags and maintains an engaging pace throughout. The Sharps are cartoon villains but the Custer-Libby romance is sweet and well-handled, and the comic relief isn't out of place. Historical figures like Scott, Sheridan and Ulysses Grant (Joseph Crehan) are so vividly-rendered that we don't mind that, say, Sheridan was an obscure Lieutenant when Custer was at West Point. How Walsh and writers Wally Kline and Aeneas MacKenzie made this film so smooth and breezy is beyond me, but they deserve enormous credit.

Errol Flynn is perfect. This might well be his best role, his swaggering, heroic persona a perfect fit for the movie's Custer. The film requires more dramatic heavy-lifting than his usual fare and he's up for the big scenes - his confrontations with Sharp and disapproving superiors, his romance with Libby - but, of course, he's most at home in the action scenes, whether brawling with Sharp's goons or facing death at the hands of a 6,000 angry Sioux. Flynn is a perfect fit for this role, and he makes Custer's tortured characterization credible.

Olivia de Havilland (who else?) is Custer's devoted wife. If she's not as radiant or engaging a character as in The Adventures of Robin Hood, de Havilland still has perfect chemistry with Flynn and gets enough screen time to make Libby endearing in her own right. Arthur Kennedy (The Man from Laramie) is perfectly-cast as the sleazy Sharp. Anthony Quinn gives a dues-paying performance as Crazy Horse, the less said about which the better. The supporting cast is full of dependable character talent: familiar faces like Sidney Greenstreet (Casablanca), Gene Lockhart (Hangmen Also Die!), John Litel (My Dog Rusty) and Hattie McDaniel (Gone With the Wind) put in memorable appearances.

Overall, They Died With Their Boots On is superlative entertainment. Anyone taking the movie seriously is a fool; this is pure Hollywood hokum of the most enjoyable kind.