#7: Howard Hawks

- “I'm a storyteller - that's the chief function of a director.”

His is the first name to come to mind when I think of the preeminent American-born directors of the classic Hollywood era. Many of his contemporaries, both in terms of time period and actual talent or stature, immigrated to America and then rose to dominate Hollywood – Billy Wilder, Frank Capra, Fritz Lang, Robert Siodmak were just a few of many who were born in Europe and rose to prominence in Tinseltwon. There were also many other outstanding Americans rising to prominence around the same time – indeed, other great American directors like Anthony Mann and John Huston have already been featured in this series. But in my mind, when I think of the archetypal American director of the period, it is always Howard Hawks.

What makes this such a natural belief is that Hawks not only dabbled in nearly every significant genre of the 30s, 40s and 50s, he produced all-time classics. His comedies of the 1930s are considered to be not only among the best screwball comedies, but some of the funniest movies ever made. Bringing Up Baby and His Girl Friday are routinely listed among the greatest comedies. His original version of Scarface in 1932 is arguably the best of the classic gangster films. The Big Sleep is among a handful of absolutely essential films noir that anyone wishing to familiarize themselves with the genre/style must see early in their quest. Air Force is as good as out-and-out propaganda films get. To Have and Have Not is as close as anyone would ever come to matching Casablanca. The Thing From Another World (which he is commonly assumed to have handled much of the directorial duties on) is a splendid piece of 1950s science-fiction and horror. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes is a musical comedy par excellence, which even someone like myself who normally has no interest in such films finds outstanding. And westerns like Rio Bravo and Red River are as incredible a one-two western punch as any director – Ford, Mann, Leone, Eastwood, anyone – ever made.

I could go on listing examples, but I think you get the point. There are other directors that can match his versatility, but I can count on one hand the directors who can match his mastery of such different genres and styles. Why was he so successful while moving in such varying fields? It might play like a broken record in these parts, as regulars here at Goodfella’s have heard me say it again and again, but Howard Hawks is simply one of the finest storytellers in the history of cinema. He might not have been a writer like other greats such as Wilder, Welles, and others. But he worked with a core group of writers that brought staggering talent to the page – Jules Furthmann, Leigh Brackett, Ben Hecth, William Faulkner – and whose screenplays inevitable possessed the characteristics that have now come to be recognized as “Hawksian.” Themes concerning friendship, professionalism, and seeing a job through to very end regardless of the consequences are the foundations of a Hawks drama. I still maintain that no one, not even the great Sam Peckinpah, ever handled ideas of bonding and close, intense friendship among male characters better than Hawks.

So with such versatility and excellence, it is easy to understand why I revere Howard Hawks. This is a placement that I almost regret, as I want to nudge him just a little higher. For now, I can’t as the competition is getting far too tough. Suffice to say that from this point on, the list could be inverted and I wouldn’t really quibble with the rankings.

1. Rio Bravo (1959)
2. Red River (1948)
3. The Big Sleep (1946)
4. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953)
5. To Have and Have Not (1944)
6. Scarface (1932)
7. Twentieth Century (1934)
8. His Girl Friday (1940)
9. Only Angels Have Wings (1939)
10. Air Force (1943)
11. Monkey Business (1952)
12. The Thing from Another World (1951)
13. El Dorado (1967)
14. The Criminal Code (1931)
15. Bringing Up Baby (1938)
16. Tiger Shark (1932)
17. Sergeant York (1941)
18. Ball of Fire (1941)
19. Rio Lobo (1970)

#17: The Big Sleep (Howard Hawks, 1946)

Released: August 23, 1946

Director: Howard Hawks; Screenplay: William Faulkner, Leigh Brackett and Jules Furthman based on the novel by Raymond Chandler; Cinematography: Sidney Hickox; Music: Max Steiner; Producer: Howard Hawks; Studio: Warner Brothers

Cast: Humphrey Bogart (Philip Marlowe), Lauren Bacall (Vivian Sternwood Rutledge), John Ridgley (Eddie Mars), Martha Vickers (Carmen Sternwood), Dorothy Malone (Acme Bookstore Worker), Peggy Knudsen (Mona Mars), Regis Toomey (Chief Inspector Bernie Ohls), Charles Waldron (General Sternwood), Charles D. Brown (Norris), Bob Steel (Lash Canino), Elisha Cook, Jr. (Harry Jones), Louis Jean Heydt (Joe Brody), Sonia Darrin (Agnes Lowzier), Ben Welden (Pete), Tom Fadden (Sidney), Trevor Bardette (Art Huck), Arthur Gwynn Geiger (Theodore von Eltz)

- “I collect blonds and bottles…”

OK, I’ll pose the question to you fine readers: Who did kill Sternwood chauffeur Owen Taylor? One of the most famous stories of Hollywood lore deals with this issue, as Howard Hawks and screenwriter William Faulkner (yes, that William Faulkner) couldn’t figure out how to explain this mystery. They figured they would go straight to the source and sent a wire to Raymond Chandler asking to solve the mystery for them. Chandler’s response? He didn’t have the foggiest idea. That story is apocryphal, but it highlights why The Big Sleep remains such an impressive film. Plot holes like this do nothing to damage the overall product. You don’t know how Owen Taylor was killed (even though I think I have a basic theory that works)? There are other details that don’t make sense? Who cares – there is so much fun to be had along the way that by the time you realize that some things aren’t adding up, it doesn’t really matter.


The story certainly is convoluted. It’s not necessarily incomprehensible, mind you, but it is likely to leave a first-time viewer scratching his or her head. The protagonist is Raymond Chandler’s legendary private eye Philip Marlowe (Humphrey Bogart). Hired by the rich General Sternwood (Charles Waldron) to investigate blackmail letters that are being sent concerning his youngest daughter Carmen (Martha Vickers). Carmen is a wild child who is known around Los Angeles as someone that paints the town and builds up massive gambling IOUs. Normally the General would have farmed the job out to his longtime protégé Sean Regan, but he has recently disappeared. Marlowe looks into the blackmailer, a bookstore owner named Geiger, which eventually pulls him into a maze that winds through the entire Los Angeles underworld. Along the way he also becomes involved with General Sternwood’s older daughter Vivian (Lauren Bacall), a vivacious and enigmatic socialite. Even as the two begin to fall for each other, it seems as if Vivian is constantly scheming behind Marlowe’s back.

The production history of The Big Sleep is equally as interesting and convoluted. Although not released until mid-1946, filming actually began in 1944 and was completed by January 1945. In Warner Brothers’ eyes, though, the timing could not have been worse. With World War II coming toward a conclusion, the studio had a number of war films in the vault still awaiting release. Fearful that if the war ended the audience would no longer be interested in war-themed films, they began to rush those to the screen and hold back movies that would not lose appeal by a delay. Thus, The Big Sleep was seen as a movie that could withstand such a wait. But by the time it finally was about to get its shot at the big screen, the Bogey and Bacall duo had become a wildly popular phenomenon. Jack Warner wanted to capitalize on this popularity and decreed that key scenes needed to be added or re-shot in order to do so. The end result of all this is that there are actually two versions of the film in existence – the theatrical release of August 1946 and the 1945 “pre-release” version, with slight variations between the two. Fortunately for modern audiences, the easily-obtainable DVD contains both versions, so each individual can form their own opinion as to which is superior. There aren’t necessarily any major differences, but I usually go for the theatrical cut whenever I watch it.


The reason I chose the ’46 version? The Bogey-Bacall interplay really was worth adding, even if it was the result of a studio dictating something to a director of Hawks’ stature. Although fans of Robert Mitchum can make a strong counterargument, there has never been a cooler on-screen presence than Humphrey Bogart. Whether he is playing Marlowe, Sam Spade, Rick Blaine, Fred C. Dobbs, or countless other roles, there is a an inherent hipness to everything that Bogart does. This is not to say that he is one-dimensional as an actor – the man could play damn near anyone. But there is certainly a “Bogart slant” to each of them. The closest I have ever seen in terms of a female possessing this same coolness is Lauren Bacall, whom Bogart married in 1945. So when the two are allowed to go toe-to-toe, they soak up every inch of the screen. Absolutely nothing else matters except the witty exchanges between Marlowe and Vivian. And, wow, what great exchanges they are. Raymond Chandler deserves huge kudos for the great dialog that he crafted in his original novel, but much praise also has to go to the incredibly talented screenwriting team in crafting the script. William Faulkner needs no introduction to anyone who has completed high school or read any American literature, and to any fans of classic cinema Leigh Brackett and Jules Furthman are close to writing royalty. Some of my favorite lines and exchanges:

Vivian: So you do get up, I was beginning to think you worked in bed like Marcel Proust.
Marlowe: Who's he?
Vivian: You wouldn't know him, a French writer.
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Marlowe: Come into my boudoir.
Vivian: You go too far, Marlowe.
Marlowe: Those are harsh words to throw at a man, especially when he's walking out of your bedroom.
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Philip Marlowe: You wanna tell me now?
Vivian: Tell you what?
Philip Marlowe: What it is you're trying to find out. You know, it's a funny thing. You're trying to find out what your father hired me to find out, and I'm trying to find out why you want to find out.
Vivian: You could go on forever, couldn't you? Anyway it'll give us something to talk about next time we meet.
Philip Marlowe: Among other things.

Not just noirs, but film in general doesn’t come much more entertaining than this. It might not be as dark as other classic noirs, but it is such an entrained part of noir history that it is an absolute essential.

1959: Rio Bravo (Howard Hawks)

Released: March 18, 1959 (U.S. premiere)

Director: Howard Hawks; Screenplay: Jules Furthman and Leigh Brackett based on a short story by B.H. McCampbell; Cinematography: Russell Harlan; Studio: Warner Brothers; Producer: Howard Hawks; Music: Dimitri Tiomkin

Cast: John Wayne (Sheriff John T. Chance), Dean Martin (Dude), Ricky Nelson (Colorado Ryan), Walter Brennan (Stumpy), Angie Dickinson (Feathers), Ward Bond (Pat Wheeler), John Russell (Nathan Burdette), Claude Akins (Joe Burdette), Pedro Gonzalez Gonzalez (Carlos Robante), Estelita Rodriguez (Consuelo Robante)

“I didn’t like High Noon. I said it’s phony. A fella’s supposed to be good, supposed to be good with a gun. He runs around like a wet chicken trying to get people to help him and eventually his Quaker wife saves his guts. I said that’s ridiculous. The man wasn’t a professional.”
- Howard Hawks

And here is the genesis of what I consider to be one of the two finest westerns ever made (you’ll have to stay tuned to find out the other!). In a typical moment of candor, director Howard Hawks outlines why he felt compelled to make Rio Bravo and what he intended to get across in detailing the story of a core group of men standing alone in upholding the law. Returning from four years of self-imposed exile in Europe, Hawks came back to Hollywood intending to show how he felt professionals were supposed to act under pressure. It is the supreme example of what has since come to be seen as the “Hawksian man,” as John T. Chance does his job without complaint and expects nothing no unsolicited from those around him.

After seeing quotes like the one above, I don’t think there is a single director that I would like to just sit and hear talk about movies more than Howard Hawks. The man is brutally honest (search for his opinion on The Wild Bunch if you need further proof) and is not above pointing out what he perceives as serious failings in films, whether his own or others. The thing that I love so much about Hawks and situations like these is that whereas such criticisms would come across as whining when made by others, with Hawks it never does. The reason is, just like Chance in Rio Bravo, Hawks doesn’t simply complain about a situation and leave it at that – he sets out to show why _he_ is correct in what he is doing. Hawks didn’t just criticize High Noon. He clearly stated what he felt was wrong with the lauded Zinneman picture, and then made a movie in response that showed his vision and film to be superior.


The cast of personalities assembled for the production mirrors the motley crew that comes together to protect the prisoner they are holding in the film. In John Wayne, Hawks had the most iconic figure in western movies, if not in all of Hollywood. Regardless of whatever feelings one might hold toward Wayne’s acting ability – I’m on record many times on this blog feeling he’s unfairly dismissed as being one-dimensional – his inclusion in a western gives it some form of instant credibility. The surprise comes in looking at those that are gathered around him in the film – with the exception of Walter Brennan, it is a collection of actors and personalities that one would expect to have clashed with that of Wayne. Dean Martin was a crooner who would seem more comfortable in a Las Vegas lounge than portraying a gunslinger on the frontier. Ricky Nelson was a wildly popular rock n’ roll star, with a clean-cut image and with his greatest appeal being to the teenybopper crowd. Angie Dickinson was tapped to play the love interest in the film, attempting to make a romance with Wayne believable despite an obvious age difference that spanned nearly 30 years. The one obvious selection was Walter Brennan, who plays a variation on his usual character but is actually more endearing in this role than in any other I’ve seen him in.

Amazingly, with this unusual assembly of actors, everything gels. The plot is surprisingly simple for westerns of the era, and moves at a pace that could be considered meandering. The story centers on Sheriff Chance (John Wayne) arresting Joe Burdette (Claude Akins) for murder. While this would normally be a routine duty for Chance and his deputy Dude (Dean Martin), this situation is different because of whom Burdette is. His brother, Nathan (John Russell), is a wealthy rancher who holds much power in Rio Bravo. The town begins to brace itself for trouble, fully expecting Nathan to ride into town with his men and break his brother out of jail. Chance vows to stand his ground, despite the fact the only help he has will come from Dude and Stumpy (Walter Brennan), a cripple who is good for little more than guard duty.

Not only does Chance declare that he and his men will hold Burdette until he can be taken to trial, he rebuffs any attempts at assistance. He views this as the job that he, Dude and Stumpy signed on for, and it is their own responsibility to see that Joe stays in jail. When Pat Wheeler (Ward Bond), a merchant from Fort Worth, rolls into town with his men and offers assistance, Chance turns him away. He doesn’t want anyone involved who doesn’t choose to involve themselves, meaning Wheeler's hired hands are not expected to fight. Eventually, Pat is killed for offering assistance to Chance, and a young gunslinger who worked for him decides to join forces with the Sheriff. Colorado (Ricky Nelson) is seen as the fastest gun around and Chance swears him in. Further complicating the tense few days is the arrival of a beautiful woman known only as Feathers (Angie Dickinson), who slowly begins to win the heart of Chance.


Wayne, as Sheriff John T. Chance, is his usual solid self. I suppose that a cynical observer could make the claim that he is simply playing his usual character (oh such poor misguided souls!), but there is something unique about Chance. He is as steadfast as other memorable Wayne characters, but shows some tenderness in the way that he allows himself to be melted by Feathers. Brennan reaffirms the fact that no one could play the curmudgeonly old sidekick like he could and I would rank Stumpy as possibly my favorite Brennan performance. His constant needling of Chance, his complete candidness toward Dude, his shoot first ask questions later outlook in guarding the jail – he becomes a character that it’s impossible not to like. Ricky Nelson is usually maligned as the glaring weakness in the cast and the entire film. I’ll admit that his acting chops pale in comparison to those that he is working with, but I think that Hawks handles him perfectly. Colorado is rarely given center stage and is never left alone to be the driving force of action. When we see Colorado, it is usually as an observer or in a clearly secondary position – being lectured by Chance, listening to Feathers vent, singing with the other guys in the jail. Nothing about Nelson’s performance bothers me, as it is clearly secondary and downplayed.


The best performance to me is the one that most shocked me when I saw the movie for the first time. Not having been around at the time of the film’s release, I have always wondered what the reaction was to hearing of Dean Martin being cast as a cowboy opposite John Wayne. Watching it decades later, I was still thinking what a disaster this could potentially turn out to be. I couldn’t have been any more wrong. Playing the Dude, an alcoholic fighting desperately to stay away from liquor, Martin manages to make the struggle feel authentic. You feel for him as she actually considers digging into a spittoon for the money to buy a drink. You can understand the pressure he must be feeling to be battling the bottle and the Burdette gang simultaneously. Ultimately, I think it is Martin’s irrepressible charisma that makes his performance go over so well. On and off screen the man had a magnetism that made it hard not to be drawn to him. This is felt in the Dude and makes you want to see him overcome his demons.

Hawks had successfully made a western before and I included Red River in this very same countdown. The thing that I think sets Rio Bravo apart and elevates it to a level that even the great Red River doesn’t attain, is the fact that it’s a story that just happens to be set in the west. You could (and other directors would in the future) transplant this same story into wildly different settings and it would still work. There are undoubtedly some great shootouts and sequences of gunplay, but that is not the focus of the film. The true emphasis of the story is on the camaraderie that develops between Chance, Dude, Stumpy and even Colorado to a certain degree. It’s the idea that these three (or four, if including Colorado) have sworn to stick together and see a job done, regardless of who lines up against them or the odds being faced. Hawks was a genius in portraying all-male companionship and the strong bonds that develop between friends.


There any number of directorial decisions that demonstrate why I place Howard Hawks in rarefied air. The scene in which Chance and Dude chase a gunman into the Burdette saloon but cannot find him is near perfection. The way that the scene moves toward its conclusion is incredible. The position of the gunman is revealed by drops of blood falling from the ceiling into a glass on the bar. Hawks then quickly cuts to a vantage point from the rafters, giving the same view as that of the fleeing gunman, just in time to see Dude get the drop on him (as if he’s pulling his gun on you!) and shooting him dead. There are even smaller, seemingly minor decisions that Hawks makes that are so valuable in the feel of the film. The nighttime scenes, with the jail surrounded by darkness and the incessant playing of the “Mexican Death Song” are outstanding. Just the simple, repetitive inclusion of the song playing above everything is so effective.

I’m sure that most everyone has heard Quentin Tarantino talk about his “Rio Bravo test” that he would give to potential girlfriends. He would show the film to a girl and if she reacted positively, he’d determine it was a relationship worth pursuing. I’ve never taken things that far, but I do think that Rio Bravo is a pretty good litmus test of how much I agree with someone in terms of movie tastes. I am always shocked when I meet someone that doesn’t like this movie.

Rating: 10/10

Other Contenders for 1959: A lot of excellent movies in 1959. Foremost among them for me is another western and B-movie classic Ride Lonesome. This is my favorite of the Budd Boetticher-Randolph Scott films and I think that it deserves mention alongside other great westerns. Arguably the greatest comedy ever made was released in this year with Billy Wilder’s Some Like It Hot. There are other comedies that I prefer, but this certainly ranks among the very best. Jack Lemmon was an amazing actor, as was Tony Curtis, and it’s impossible to take your eyes off of the gorgeous Marilyn Monroe.

I’ve never been a particularly ardent fan of François Truffaut, but The 400 Blows would be my top choice of his entire filmography. I have always been a huge fan of Hitchcock, but I actually rate North By Northwest somewhat lower than a lot of others. Still, it’s a fun film and one that deserves consideration in a poll like this (even if I consider it not in the same company as his other masterpieces). Other films from 1959 that I adore: Suddenly, Last Summer (Joseph L. Mankiewicz) and Ben-Hur (William Wyler). Many consider Godard's Breathless to be 1959, but I'm going with 1960 to stay consistent in my policy.

Two films that are typically considered among the finest of the year, but that were misses for me are Otto Preminger’s Anatomy of a Murder and Robert Bresson’s Pickpocket. The former was too far-fetched for me to ever get into, while the latter left me cold and unengaged.

1948: Red River (Howard Hawks)

Released: September 30, 1948

Director: Howard Hawks, Arthur Rosson (co-director); Screenplay: Borden Chase and Charles Schnee; Cinematography: Russell Harlan; Studio: United Artists; Producer: Howard Hawks

Cast: John Wayne (Thomas Dunson), Montgomery Clift (Matthew Garth), Walter Brennan (Groot Nadine), Joanne Dru (Tess Millay), John Ireland (Cherry Valance), Coleen Gray (Fen), Harry Carey Sr. (Mr. Melville), Noah Beery Jr. (Buster McGee), Harry Carey Jr. (Dan Latimer), Chief Yowlachie (Quo), Paul Fix (Teeler Yacey), Hank Worden (Simms Reeves), Ray Hyke (Walt Jergens), Wally Wales (Old Leather), Mickey Kuhn (Matt as a boy)

Wow, did I go back and forth on this one. 1948 was a two-horse race for me right from the start and I vacillated between which of the tremendous films I would choose. There are quite clearly more than two worthy films in this year, but for me it was always a contest between the classic Howard Hawks western Red River and the Vittoro De Sica masterpiece Bicycle Thieves. If this countdown were purely an exercise in attempting to decide which film is the “greatest,” I feel quite confident that Bicycle Thieves would be the definite choice. I cannot praise it enough – it is a truly touching film and an amazing experience to realize that such a simple story is so affecting. Just thinking about the film as I type this review makes me want to consider changing my mind yet again. But of the two films, Red River is the one I most often return to. I watch it regularly and feel it is completely accurate to declare it to be the best western of the entire decade.

Over the course of the last few months I’ve slowly begun to come around to the realization that Howard Hawks may very well be my favorite director. The versatility displayed throughout his career is astounding – the man was equally adept with adventures, comedies, dramas, noir, and other types of films. This production was Hawks’ first foray into westerns, and while I will stop short of calling it his best take on the genre, I definitely feel that he hit it out of the park on the first swing. To me, the best westerns are not so much about wild chases and gunfights, but are those that offer fascinating character studies. I find it intriguing to watch flawed men as they attempt to maneuver through tempting or dangerous situations. The reason that Hawks is so successful in his western is that he is able to maintain this crucial element, while at the same time also including well-done action and gunplay. Prior to making this movie, Hawks was already well accomplished in action films (just watch Only Angels Have Wings if you need proof of this), thus it is no surprise that Red River would include thrilling sequences such as a wild cattle stampede or tense showdowns. But these moments of adventure never detract from the central force of the film – the relationship between the determined Tom Dunson (John Wayne) and his adopted son Matt (Montgomery Clift).


I won’t claim that this is the best role of Wayne’s career, because I don’t think it is, but the apocryphal story of John Ford’s reaction after seeing the film is telling. Referring to Wayne’s performance, Ford is said to have exclaimed, “I didn’t know the big son of a bitch could act!” Aside from being my favorite story of Hollywood lore, it speaks volumes of how good Wayne is as Tom Dunson. Dunson is the pivotal character in the story. The movie opens to Dunson leaving a wagon train bound for California in order to settle on land in Texas. He and his sidekick Groot (Walter Brennan) survive an Indian attack that kills everyone else in the train except a young boy who manages to escape with a single cow. Using the lone bull of Dunson’s and the cow that Matt managed to save, the two form a partnership and set out to establish a cattle empire in the Lone Star state.

The story then fast-forwards 14 years and the cattle ranch is fully up and running. Dunson controls a herd of cattle numbering in the thousands, but is cash poor as the price of beef in Texas is very low. Hearing that better prices are to be found to the north, Dunson decides the best and most lucrative option is to drive the cattle to Missouri. Along with Matt and Groot, Dunson hires more help among veteran cowhands like Buster (Noah Beery Jr.) and Dan Latimer (Harry Carey Jr.) and famous gunmen like Cherry Valance (John Ireland).

The brilliance of Wayne’s performance shines as the group progress deeper into the cattle drive. Through the early stages of the movie and the first half of the drive, Dunson is the usual gallant and heroic character that Wayne is commonly associated with. Here is a man who is caring enough to take in an orphaned boy, making him a partner in the cattle business and willingly raising him to manhood. But the same determination that spurred Dunson to embark on the daunting journey ultimately becomes all-consuming and leads him to emerging obsessed with making it to Missouri. Suddenly, Tom develops tunnel vision and allows nothing to deter he and his cattle from making it there – not complaining by workers, not advice from close confidants like Matt and Groot, and not even the threat of injury to his men. In this transformation into a much darker personality, you can clearly see the roots of a future Wayne character like Ethan Edwards.

When some of the workers on the drive begin to mention that the group would be better served to take the cattle to Abilene, Kansas instead of Missouri, Tom will hear none of it. Rather than put up with what he considers to be insubordination, he instead begins to drive the men even harder. Eventually, with the men nearing downright rebellion, Matt steps in and takes over command of the entire operation. Tom is left behind and sent back toward Texas, but before doing so he makes a bold speech to Matt. In possibly the most coldblooded moment of Wayne’s career, Tom Dunson looks straight into the eyes of his adopted son and declares: “You should have let 'em kill me, 'cause I'm gonna kill you. I'll catch up with ya. I don't know when, but I'll catch up. Every time you turn around, expect to see me, 'cause one time you'll turn around and I'll be there. I'm gonna kill ya, Matt.” No longer the likable character seen at the beginning of the film, Tom Dunson has now become a man hell-bent on nothing but revenge.

The last section of the drive appears to be building toward a final climactic showdown between Dunson and Matt. On the way to Abilene, Matt and his men help out a beleaguered wagon train that is under Indian attack. After driving off the natives, Matt meets Tess Millay (Joanne Dru) and the two begin to fall in love. However, Matt does not stay long, as he and his men are soon back on the trail to Abilene. After Matt leaves, Dunson proves to be right on his heels as he soon catches up to the same wagon train. He too is attracted to Tess, who tries in vain to convince Tom to let Matt live.


When Tom and Matt finally come face to face in Abilene, the expectation is a deadly showdown between the two fastest guns in the country. Instead, we get what I would argue to be the one weak spot of the film. The buildup to the showdown is hard-charging and relentless – something dramatic and brutal seems the only fitting conclusion based upon what has transpired. Instead, we get an awkward speech from Tess that settles the differences between the two and closes the movie with a forced happy ending. The buildup to the face-off is nearly flawless, so it would be a lie to say that it was not a letdown to witness this conclusion for the first time. Still, I love everything else about the film so much that I’m willing to overlook the misstep. I understand that this could sound like selective assessment, but it how I feel.

Wayne’s performance is not the only one worthy of praise. I have been a huge Montgomery Clift fan from the first time I saw a movie he starred in – that being From Here to Eternity. Even still, I remember being somewhat apprehensive in picturing Clift playing a cowboy. Luckily, my fears were easily discarded. While Red River was the first movie Clift ever made, he is smooth as the calm, confident Matthew Garth. And Walter Brennan is Walter Brennan. By this, I mean he gives yet another example of why I consider him to be the finest character actor of his era. His roles may have been variations of the same character over and over again, but it’s entertaining every time.


It also needs to be pointed out that the photography makes excellent use of the scenery of a cattle drive. Cinematographer Russell Harlan utilizes the sweeping landscape and we get great shots of the mountains, rivers, and the driving cattle. The photography also blends perfectly with the action sensibilities of Hawks, as witnessed in the filming of the famed stampede scene midway through the trek.

In my opinion, Howard Hawks would actually go on to direct an even better western than this in the next decade. But that in no way detracts from the greatness of this film. It is not a perfect film, as evidence by the fact that I openly admit to not caring for the ending (and evidently, neither did Howard Hawks himself). Even so, I think that taken as a whole that Red River can stand alongside any film ever made.

Rating: 10/10

Other Contenders for 1948: Hopefully my fondness for Bicycle Thieves came through loud and clear in those opening paragraphs, but I’ll reinforce it here. It’s a powerful movie and I would be shocked if someone could sit through it and be completely unmoved. There are two other films from this year that I absolutely love. The first is John Huston’s The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. This is another movie that examines a well-intentioned man’s descent toward madness and Humphrey Bogart is great in the role. The other film comes from Great Britain and is Carol Reed’s The Fallen Idol. While The Third Man is Reed’s most acclaimed movie, The Fallen Idol remains my personal favorite. It contains one of the great child performances I have ever seen from Bobby Henrey and manages to make very common situations feel unbelievably suspenseful.

Other films from this year that I really like but were not really close to dethroning Red River are: Raw Deal (Anthony Mann), The Search (Fred Zinnemann), and Key Largo (John Huston).