Every time I see Fort
Apache, I think 'Surely this must be Ford's best film.'
But I say the same about a half dozen other Ford films: Stagecoach, The Searchers, The Quiet Man, My
Darling Clementine, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Young Mr. Lincoln.
I’ll probably say it about How Green Was My Valley the next time I watch that, too.
Interesting compare/contrast with Raoul Walsh's Custer film They
Died with Their Boots On. Walsh takes a real figure and makes him heroic,
entirely in the face of history, Ford takes a fictional figure and matches him
to anti-heroic history.
John Wayne’s character whitewashing Thursday for the press
is more subtle than the same scene in Liberty
Valance. He turns Thursday into an ideal, a symbolic figure with no basis
in the reality we’ve just seen. Despite the false image, the unjustifiability
of their war, the heroism of the cavalry is very real.
See also Two Rode
Together, where Ford makes explicit the critique of pioneer racism he
showed in The Searchers, for the
benefit of those who didn’t get it the first time.
Thursday doesn't hate Indians, he just sees them as less
than human. Barely a step above the Irishmen he finds himself surrounded by on
the frontier. He despises the corrupt Indian agent, but treats him with more
respect than anyone else he meets because his title as a representative of the
US Government gives him a class status the others can't match. Even Ward Bond's
Medal of Honor isn't enough in Thursday's eyes: it's not what a man does, but
what he's called. Social mobility is an impossibility. And yet, Thursday is
obsessed with the fact that he's been unable to rise in the ranks.
Shirley Temple is terrific as the marvelously named
Philadelphia Thursday, openly lusting after John Agar with an intense, Judy Garland-esque
stare. Cinema lost a great deal when Temple went into diplomacy.
Anna Lee is marvelous as well playing George O'Brien's wife.
Ford gives the women the same hero framing he does the men, as the cavalry
marches off to a doom everyone but Fonda knows is coming. She gets the best
line of the film, watching her husband disappear for the last time: "I
can't see him. All I can see are the flags."
If you want to truly understand John Ford, pay attention to the women.
If you want to truly understand John Ford, pay attention to the women.
Perhaps Thursday knows what's coming as well: at the end of
the world, the only thing he can think to do is die with a flourish. The
Apaches sweep across the last stand like a force of nature: we don't see Fonda
and Bond and McLaglen and Amendariz and the rest of the men die: they are
simply erased by the wave.
It's one of Fonda's best performances. Only a truly great
actor could dance like that without cracking a smile.
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