Screenplay by Dudley Nichols (and Ben Hecht, uncredited); from the story "Stage to Lordsburg" by Ernest Haycox; Directed by John Ford; Cinematography by Bert Glennon; Edited by Otho Lovering and Dorothy Spencer (and Walter Reynolds, uncredited); Complete Credits. 96 min. 1939.
Today, for your enjoyment, we present Stagecoach and its gallery of stock characters: Dallas (Claire Trevor), the prostitute with a heart of gold; Ringo (John Wayne), the young hero; Buck (Andy Devine), the comic relief; Hatfield (John Carradine), the gentleman gambler; Doc Boone (Thomas Mitchell), the (drunken) voice of reason; Lucy Mallory (Louise Platt), the prim officer’s wife; Curley (George Bancroft), the tough marshal; Peacock (Donald Meek), the wimpy salesman; and Gatewood (Berton Churchill), the corrupt banker.
All of these characters are riding in a stagecoach from one of those frontier towns that has just grown civilized enough to crackdown on drinking and prostitution (and is so small that it can actually do something about them) to get to Lordsburg – one of those frontier towns that has gotten so big it has a whole street worth of saloons and brothels. Each character has his or her own reason for making the trip and braving the threat of Geronimo and his Apaches. (If you are looking for a - relatively - politically correct western, then go watch The Magnificent Seven.)
There are a lot of reasons why Stagecoach is interesting. Though from the outset it looks like it’ll be more of an action film, it really turns out to be a character piece. The final showdown and all the traveling around in the stagecoach notwithstanding, the driving tension is the interaction of the characters. Are Dallas and Ringo falling in love? Will Ringo still love her when he finds out about her profession? Is Mrs. Mallory flirting with Hatfield even though she’s supposed to be on the way to meet her husband? And who is Hatfield, anyway? Will someone discover Gatewood’s emptying out the town safe? Will Curley really take Ringo back to prison - he was wrongly convicted of murder – or will he let the kid stay out long enough to get revenge and maybe even get across the border to Mexico? And so on and so on.
If all that wasn’t there, we wouldn’t care whether these characters got to Lordsburg or not. The Native American threat is a superficial device to create a sense of urgency – and then a device to weed out a character or two, plus make you think they’ll all die when Geronimo finally attacks. Which he does, incidentally, about a mile or two outside of Lordsburg, because that whole time when the little pathetic stagecoach was isolated in the middle of nowhere without any help from the cavalry wasn’t a better opportunity.
Marvel at the Apaches’ incredible marksmanship – they can shoot an arrow through the coach window while it’s speeding along and hit a guy bang in the chest, but they can’t hit anyone else, no matter how many bullets they riddle the thing with. Except for Hatfield, but again, only when he’s way on the inside of the thing and not when he’s huddled near the window taking aim. They can’t manage to kill Buck driving on the top and Curley riding shotgun either. The people on the stagecoach must have fifty bullets between the four guns doing the shooting and yet the hundred or so Apaches that surround them can’t finish the job. This is pure movie logic: the good guys have to survive no matter what the odds are. You have to ask yourself – why are the Apaches going to all this trouble anyway? A big wagon train, alright, but what could they possibly gain from risking over a hundred precious warriors for one little stagecoach? One that’s not too far from its final destination? If you ask me, they could have thrown out Geronimo and the Apaches and used bandits instead.
But no one is asking me, so back to what works. Granted, the romantic subplot between Dallas and Ringo is sentimental but it makes sense. In the first place, it's astonishing that the story doesn't "punish" her for her profession either by killing her or sending her to a nunnery. (If James Fenimore Cooper were involved – she'd probably end up dead.) Actually, the script enlists sympathy for Dallas right from the beginning – whether by showing the evil biddies that run her out of town in the name of reform or showing a "lady" like Mrs. Mallory and the "upright" banker Gatewood snubbing her – we feel they're being disgusting. Naturally we root for Dallas to end up with an adorable guy like Ringo, especially after we watch him treat her with so much courtesy. Later, when they make it to Lordsburg, watching Ringo walk Dallas through the street with all the saloons, immediately realizing that she's a prostitute and still wanting her all the same – ups the ante just in time for Ringo to have his showdown with the Millers. That way, more is at stake than Ringo surviving the shootout – we don't want Dallas to be heartbroken after finally finding a good man that doesn't care about her past.
Next week… High Noon, and this here wagon is movin’ along to see another showdown.
Today, for your enjoyment, we present Stagecoach and its gallery of stock characters: Dallas (Claire Trevor), the prostitute with a heart of gold; Ringo (John Wayne), the young hero; Buck (Andy Devine), the comic relief; Hatfield (John Carradine), the gentleman gambler; Doc Boone (Thomas Mitchell), the (drunken) voice of reason; Lucy Mallory (Louise Platt), the prim officer’s wife; Curley (George Bancroft), the tough marshal; Peacock (Donald Meek), the wimpy salesman; and Gatewood (Berton Churchill), the corrupt banker.
All of these characters are riding in a stagecoach from one of those frontier towns that has just grown civilized enough to crackdown on drinking and prostitution (and is so small that it can actually do something about them) to get to Lordsburg – one of those frontier towns that has gotten so big it has a whole street worth of saloons and brothels. Each character has his or her own reason for making the trip and braving the threat of Geronimo and his Apaches. (If you are looking for a - relatively - politically correct western, then go watch The Magnificent Seven.)
There are a lot of reasons why Stagecoach is interesting. Though from the outset it looks like it’ll be more of an action film, it really turns out to be a character piece. The final showdown and all the traveling around in the stagecoach notwithstanding, the driving tension is the interaction of the characters. Are Dallas and Ringo falling in love? Will Ringo still love her when he finds out about her profession? Is Mrs. Mallory flirting with Hatfield even though she’s supposed to be on the way to meet her husband? And who is Hatfield, anyway? Will someone discover Gatewood’s emptying out the town safe? Will Curley really take Ringo back to prison - he was wrongly convicted of murder – or will he let the kid stay out long enough to get revenge and maybe even get across the border to Mexico? And so on and so on.
If all that wasn’t there, we wouldn’t care whether these characters got to Lordsburg or not. The Native American threat is a superficial device to create a sense of urgency – and then a device to weed out a character or two, plus make you think they’ll all die when Geronimo finally attacks. Which he does, incidentally, about a mile or two outside of Lordsburg, because that whole time when the little pathetic stagecoach was isolated in the middle of nowhere without any help from the cavalry wasn’t a better opportunity.
Marvel at the Apaches’ incredible marksmanship – they can shoot an arrow through the coach window while it’s speeding along and hit a guy bang in the chest, but they can’t hit anyone else, no matter how many bullets they riddle the thing with. Except for Hatfield, but again, only when he’s way on the inside of the thing and not when he’s huddled near the window taking aim. They can’t manage to kill Buck driving on the top and Curley riding shotgun either. The people on the stagecoach must have fifty bullets between the four guns doing the shooting and yet the hundred or so Apaches that surround them can’t finish the job. This is pure movie logic: the good guys have to survive no matter what the odds are. You have to ask yourself – why are the Apaches going to all this trouble anyway? A big wagon train, alright, but what could they possibly gain from risking over a hundred precious warriors for one little stagecoach? One that’s not too far from its final destination? If you ask me, they could have thrown out Geronimo and the Apaches and used bandits instead.
But no one is asking me, so back to what works. Granted, the romantic subplot between Dallas and Ringo is sentimental but it makes sense. In the first place, it's astonishing that the story doesn't "punish" her for her profession either by killing her or sending her to a nunnery. (If James Fenimore Cooper were involved – she'd probably end up dead.) Actually, the script enlists sympathy for Dallas right from the beginning – whether by showing the evil biddies that run her out of town in the name of reform or showing a "lady" like Mrs. Mallory and the "upright" banker Gatewood snubbing her – we feel they're being disgusting. Naturally we root for Dallas to end up with an adorable guy like Ringo, especially after we watch him treat her with so much courtesy. Later, when they make it to Lordsburg, watching Ringo walk Dallas through the street with all the saloons, immediately realizing that she's a prostitute and still wanting her all the same – ups the ante just in time for Ringo to have his showdown with the Millers. That way, more is at stake than Ringo surviving the shootout – we don't want Dallas to be heartbroken after finally finding a good man that doesn't care about her past.
Next week… High Noon, and this here wagon is movin’ along to see another showdown.
2 comments:
Nice piece! Hard to think of John Wayne as adorable, but he is definitely that in Stagecoach. One correction-- the shootout was with the Plummers, not the Millers. You might be interested in my articles on Stagecoach over on Suite101. Come on by.
Yikes! Thanks for catching that. I've been thinking about Stagecoach, High Noon, and The Big Country simultaneously for a month - it's a wonder I didn't end up writing a post about The Big Noon Stagecoach.
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