The Far Country

The Far Country (1954) runs a very close second to The Man from Laramie as the best Anthony Mann-James Stewart collaboration. An exceedingly cynical Western, it casts a decidedly harsh light on the genre's cult of individuality.

Cattleman Jeff Webster (James Stewart) narrowly survives a mutiny while taking his herd to Seattle. Accused of murder, he and sidekicks Ben (Walter Brennan) and Rube (Jay C. Flippen) hightail it to Alaska, then in the midst of the Yukon Gold Rush. Arriving in the boom town of Skagway, Webster finds it the private fiefdom of self-appointed lawman Gannon (John McIntire), who shakes Ben down for his cattle and threatens to hang him. Webster escapes into Canada with his herd, only to find Gannon setting up shop in Dawson, ready to corrupt a whole new country.

The Far Country boldly subverts the Western archetype of the loner-gunfighter. Jeff's self-reliance, so admirable in other oaters, comes off as petty and callous: Jeff ignores Gannon's cruelty except where it concerns him, and in one scene coldly watches his erstwhile friends get buried under an avalanche. Living outside the law suits him, as when he steals back his own herd from Gannon at gunpoint. With his distrust of others, resentment of "government" interference and dreams of hitting it big, Jeff seems more like an Old West entrepeneur than a gunfighter-hero.

Indeed, Mann plays the story as a vicious critique of capitalism. Alaska and the Yukon exemplify social Darwinism in action: the honest prospectors are no match for the wicked Gannon and greedy saloon madam Rhonda (Ruth Roman), who corner commodities, swindle through means fair and foul, hornswaggle rubes and employ brute force when necessary. With the land undeveloped and respectable authority beyond reach, Gannon runs the Yukon like a Mob boss.

The film softpedals its message towards the end. Jeff is pushed too far, Ronda has a change of heart and the finale becomes a predictable (if well-staged) good versus bad showdown. Writer Borden Chase hammers the theme home, making sure we know that sticking up for your fellow man is the right thing to do. It rings false, and we wonder if the studio (or Jimmy Stewart himself) had a hand in neutering a heretofore bleak film.



Even so, The Far Country's nastiness still bleeds through. Later films took this concept even further: John Wayne's Ethan Edwards used solitude to mask psychotic racism, Paul Newman's Hombre unloaded buckshot into an unarmed man's back, and Clint Eastwood made a whole career playing lone gunmen of doubtful virtue. Qualified though it is, Mann's cynicism is far ahead of the Western curve.

Mann can always be relied on for a beautiful film. William H. Daniels captures some striking Canadian locations, the frost-bitten Yukon and Alaska Territories providing a unique Western locale. Borden Chase's script is well-crafted and biting, making a sprawling story and large cast of characters engrossing.

James Stewart did his best work in Westerns, and The Far Country is another solid performance. Until his change of heart, Jeff makes a fine match for Stewart's equally amoral protagonist in Two Rode Together. Gorgeous Ruth Roman (Strangers on a Train) makes such a wonderful femme fatale that her eleventh hour redemption seems phony. Corinne Calvet (What Price Glory?) is cute, but her character is so slight we'd rather Jeff end up with Roman. A galaxy of Western character actors populate the supporting cast: Walter Brennan (Rio Bravo) as a crusty sidekick, Robert Wilkie (High Noon) and Jack Elam (Once Upon a Time in the West) as Gannon's thugs, Royal Dano (Man of the West) and Harry Morgan (The Shootist) as prospectors.

The show-stealer, however, is John McIntire (Elmer Gantry). Usually relegated to memorable bit parts, McIntire makes Gannon one of the all-time great Western villains. An embodiment of unbridled capitalism, Gannon is a perverse mixture of sleazy charm ("I'm going to hang you, but I'm going to like you!"), piratical opportunism and brute sadism. Knowingly evil characters are tough to make convincing, but McIntire nails it better than anyone this side of James Mason in Lord Jim.

The Far Country is another great Western from Anthony Mann. Aside from the openly pro-Indian Devil's Doorway, it might be his most provocative oater, crowd-pleasing finale or no. It's certainly among his two or three best.