The Searchers (1956) dir. John Ford

Every time I finish a review I say to myself, 'alright dude, make your next one sooner. None of this one review a month stuff'.

And now, nearly two months after my last article, I give you my piece on The Searchers, the beloved John Ford epic and so called "ultimate western".

The easiest way to break into the beauty of this film is to simply show the first shot. 

This is only the second John Ford film I've seen, but it's pretty clear from my observations so far and his revered status by filmmakers, that the type of storytelling he employs is visual. It sounds a bit redundant to say, considering that film is a visual medium and is supposed to be that way, but it should really be said with a Ford film. Landscapes and expressions tell us what we need to know. I love how the shot goes from confined and dark to bright and expansive, opening up the story for us. It helps that the last shot of the film is the same as the first, with John Wayne's character framed as he walks away and the door closes. Ford shoots his locations so well that it's practically better than actually being there. 

His influence spreads far to filmmakers like Akira Kurosawa and even to directors like Paul Thomas Anderson today. That whole technique of important scenes in movies being told through meaningful looks and calculated actions from characters is a John Ford Staple. The way the film opens seems like a direct influence to how all of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (1966) is pretty much shot. 

And not only are relationships, mood, and tone established this way, but little character details, roo. The film opens with Ethan (John Wayne) returning to his family after many years fighting for the confederates and in the Mexican revolutionary war, with a large amount of gold coins in tow. His affection for the family, particularly young Debbie and even his sister-in-law, Martha, is told through Wayne's expressions more than any dialogue. It's never called attention to, but it seems that Ethan holds unrequited love for Martha, as seen be his frequent wistful looks towards her. 

And from the positioning and expressions from not only Martha but from neighbors and family members, as seen above, his feelings are no secret either. Even more interesting, Ford takes the time to set up this dimension to Ethan's character, and yet it doesn't become a plot point.

I should mention now that this review is, as always, spoiler filled. I want to say it now because it's necessary to reveal that most of Ethan's family are slaughtered by Comanches early on in the film. Young Debbie is also kidnapped. Aside from finding Debbie, it seems that Ethan is equally fueled by revenge for the murder of his family, and most importantly, Martha. I want to bring attention to this because it's a good example of Ford's visual storytelling and Wayne's oft overlooked acting nuances. There's a story I heard once where Elia Kazan was asking Ford for advice on directing, and when he brought up the script, Ford told him to forget about the "fucking script". That it would confuse him. Directing is a matter of going to the location, seeing what you've got, and telling the story with pictures. 

The other thing I'd like to talk about is the darkness of this film. Not only does a savage family massacre take place in the beginning, but the rest of the film is filled with implications even worse. To start off with, Ethan (and Wayne himself, let's be honest) is disgustingly hateful of all native Americans. It's totally fair to say that Wayne and Ford and all them were Manifest Destiny kind of folk. However, there are moments when the film lets up on this line of thinking. Serious questioning of these prejudices occur. The major one is shown through the character of Martin, the adopted son of Ethan's family, who is part Cherokee. Ethan saved him as an infant, in fact, but refuses to see him as true family and often doesn't treat him with respect. 

And yet Martin is not only a moral and likeable character who acts heroically, but he also embodies traits of Ethan. Good ones, anyway. He's headstrong, mysterious, and committed to the work at hand. He is the only one to stick with Ethan throughout the journey, while everyone else abandons the search relatively quickly.  

Ethan is so disgusted by Native Americans that once he finds that Debbie has been assimilated into Native American society, he tries to kill her as if she had been bitten by a vampire. She must be destroyed because she is beyond saving. Martin, who has the same motivations as Ethan, more or less, shields her with his body, knowing both that she is still the same girl and that one cannot be tainted by exposure to Native Americans. 

This notion of being "tainted" runs along with the rape implications present throughout the film, and even in early Ford films like Stagecoach (1939). It's a pretty grim aspect that's heavily implied, just a few words from explicitly stated, that the older Lucy is raped before being killed by the Comanches. It's assumed, therefore, that Debbie is as well, although she survives. This seems to be part of Ethan's disgust of her once he finds that she has blended into their culture, too.

This blind hatred and anger in Ethan's character develops steadily as they go on. Ethan loses his family and then later Lucy. Then he finds Debbie and considers her lost as well. He is losing his family one by one and starting to unravel. One of the central dramas of the film is seeing Ethan's initial mission slip from his grasp, and revenge against the comanches and recovery of Debbie are covered up by simple bloodlust. Eventually, while the Western genre is thoroughly represented, we start getting the rape/revenge genre vibe as well. Which only goes on to influence more western loving directors like Tarantino and films like Rolling Thunder (1977). One of the most striking images to coincide with this is when Ethan finally kills Scar, the leader of the Comanche tribe that kidnapped Debbie. He pulls his knife out and reaches for the top of Scar's head. The scene cuts there.

Scalping a Comanche. The tables can't turn anymore than that, lest they go a full 360 degrees and it's just an American being scalped like usual again.

Westerns are mostly renowned for their scope and visuals I'd say. The breathtaking wide shots, sweeping scores, costumes, aged sets, and action packed chase and fight scenes bestow an unfathomable debt to cinema. But I don't think I can say it's typical for a Western to be as layered and provocative as this. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I just need to see more.

The last thing I wanna say is that the film takes a break from all the injun' killin' and fire stokin' and such to stage one of the funniest fight scenes in cinematic history. It takes place during a wedding, don't miss it.