0514 | Shane

[Note: this is the fourth film in my 2016 Blind Spot series. For a list of the other well-known or well-respected films I’ve already watched or I’m going to be watching for the first time this year, see this post.]

It was hardly a surprise to discover that masculinity’s a central thread of this revered film by George Stevens, but in Shane it’s a subject that’s handled as intriguingly as any other western I’ve seen, from the way that young Joey Starrett (Brandon DeWilde) cloyingly looks up to archetypal mysterious stranger Shane (Alan Ladd in a career-defining role) to the way that the mere presence of Ladd’s gunslinger seems to boost the testosterone levels of Joey’s father Joe (Van Heflin). One of a number of Wyoming settlers being bullied off his land by an unscrupulous rancher, Joe is never happier than when he’s by Shane’s side – the film has a homoerotic subtext – and both men only ever seem to smile when they’re carrying out some joint task or other, whether that’s fighting Rufus Ryker’s henchmen in the local saloon or chopping down a giant tree stump (which, symbolically, they later fall against at the end of their own manly set-to). Then there’s the way in which the screenplay – adapted from Jack Schaefer’s novel – addresses the togetherness of the sodbusters who are under threat from Ryker and his gang. Some of them do not wish to stay and fight, some understandably bolt when death becomes a very real possibility, and throughout Stevens asks us to consider whether their actions are the result of cowardice or whether they’re merely being sensible as old-fashioned heads of their respective families. There’s nobility in sticking with the group, for sure, and glory to be won through acts of heroism, but those who do stay – such as Elisha Cook Jr’s ‘Stonewall’ Torrey – must face the intimidating likes of Ben Johnson’s bully and Jack Palance’s superbly menacing quick-draw; a poor reward for being a ‘real man’, you might argue. Somewhat predictably Shane adheres to the western rule that the way of the gun is the only way for most men,  although some are more adept at surviving than others. (It’s ironic that Ladd wasn’t actually a competent marksman, despite his character’s skill: the scene in which Shane teaches little Joey to shoot had to go through 116 takes before Ladd finally hit the bottle on the floor with his bullet.)

Perhaps the most striking element of the picture is Loyal Griggs’ Oscar-winning cinematography, which fills the top third of many frames with the mountains surrounding Jackson Hole (when it’s not warmly emphasising the heroic nature of the title character, or his laconic cool). Shane arrives from somewhere among those peaks, stays to right a few wrongs, and neatly disappears back into them at the end of the film, while they form the stunning background to nearly all of the exterior scenes in-between. Some fine, frenetic editing from William Hornbeck and Tom McAdoo adds lots of punch to the fight scenes (yep…sorry). There’s such a tightly-controlled and satisfying story, too, even if the underdog-fighting-against-evil motif was hardly new in the early 1950s. And amongst all these scenes of men squaring up to one another there’s a well-written romantic subplot, albeit one which also touches on the theme of masculinity; in Joey’s eyes Shane is more of a man than his father – which explains his incessant line of questioning and his desire to learn how to shoot – and it seems as if that’s the exact same reason Joe’s wife Marian (Jean Arthur) is slowly drawn to the Starrett’s house guest, though as a married woman who still loves her husband she’s less forthcoming with her admiration. The promise of romance bubbles away throughout, increasing the already-palpable tension.

Ladd, Heflin and Arthur are excellent, while the icy Palance steals every one of his short scenes. Many of the cast members went on to live into their 80s and 90s, but the fate of Shane‘s star – whose career fizzled out before an accidental death at 50 due to a combination of alcohol, barbituates and tranquilizers – is a sad foonote, as is that of DeWilde, who died following a car crash at 30, having recently re-married. Ladd in particular gives one of the great western performances here, and it’s a shame that his studio contract expired shortly after this film was released, with his popularity dwindling despite Shane drawing big crowds to the box office. It has been suggested since that Paramount didn’t quite understand what they had at the time; given the movie’s success in 1953 and its reputation today, it’s a surprise to read that the studio sat on Shane for two years after it was completed, and that it let Ladd drift away.

Directed by: George Stevens.
Written by: A.B. Guthrie, Jr, Jack Sher. Based on Shane by Jack Schaefer.
Starring: Alan Ladd, Van Heflin, Jean Arthur, Brandon DeWilde, Emile Meyer, Jack Palance, Ben Johnson, Edgar Buchanan.
Cinematography: Loyal Griggs.
Editing: William Hornbeck, Tom McAdoo.
Music:
Victor Young.
Certificate:
PG.
Running Time:
118 minutes.
Year:
1953.

Comments 9

  1. ckckred April 14, 2016

    Nice review Stu. I probably should see this again; I’ve watched Shane once before and found DeWilde to be quite irritating (I just can’t stand his voice). I didn’t know about Ladd’s death, what a tragic ending.

    • Stu April 14, 2016

      Thanks Charles. I know where you’re coming from…it’s very much a performance of its time, if you know what I mean? I think kids are generally far better actors these days. Ladd’s is a sad story, for sure, but I’m glad I’ve finally got round to watching this film…a great western.

  2. Keith April 15, 2016

    Fabulous review Stu. It has been a while since I’ve seen this but so many points you make ring true. The film excels both dramatically and technically. Glad to see it left an impression on you.

    • Stu April 15, 2016

      Thanks Keith – much appreciated. It definitely excels; I could have done a whole year of western blind spots but I’m glad I chose this one, there’s a lot to it which made it easier to write about than most films. Trying to keep reviews short at the moment but I could have gone on and on about Shane!

      • Keith April 16, 2016

        Westerns and I have a weird relationship. Recently finished a couple of western reviews (one which is my blind spot for this month). My dad loves them – all of them to a degree. I grew up watching them and honestly didn’t care for many of them. That has carried on to today. I’m not a huge fan of the genre, but the westerns I like I truly, truly love. I have grown to appreciate the genre more as I’ve gotten older.

        • Stu April 18, 2016

          I guess there’s a lot of chaff to sort to get to the wheat with regard to westerns. I watched a lot when I was a kid too, though not in any discerning way, just whatever was on TV at the time. Because of that I often dismissed them as too similar throughout my 20s (although I could see neo-westerns were different, and even some of the more modern takes on the genre), but now I’m looking with a closer critical eye I’m finding there’s a lot to some of them, and I’m looking forward to catching up on others I’ve never seen that are supposed to be good, or interesting. I’ve never liked John Wayne, though!

        • Keith April 18, 2016

          ME EITHER! Wayne has never been my cup of tea although he does have a handful of movies I really do like (teaser).

        • Stu April 18, 2016

          Haha yeah, I agree. Which ones? I really admire The Searchers, and The Longest Day, though I watched both of those about 20 years ago! Never before has an actor spanked so many of his co-stars.

        • Keith April 18, 2016

          Rio Bravo is my Blind Spot for this month. Also have a review written for Red River. Very good film. I’ve also always been a bit fond of his Calvary trilogy.

Get in touch...

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s