Wednesday, September 15, 2010

#69. Shane (1953)


When “Brokeback Mountain” came out, I remembered telling everyone who was opposed to it “all cowboy movies are gay, at least this one is honest about it.” And with a very few exceptions this has been my philosophy on westerns as a whole. I have just always had a problem with the Neanderthal attitude of them; with men’s men, women who do as they are told and the term “yella-bellied” is enough to make a rational person kill a man.

There are so many elements of the traditional western that are still present in “Shane” but in many ways this film turns the stereotypical western film upside down. It is the third film on the list by director George Stevens, who’s 1951 film “A Place in the Sun” has gone from a movie I have never seen to my favorite movie since beginning this project a few months ago. It is a weird feeling to have high hopes and low expectations pinned on a movie at the same time.

An archetypical cowboy named Shane (Alan Ladd), complete with buckskin jacket and white-handled six-shooter rides onto a small family farm. While initially just passing through, he stops to drink some water and converse with the father Joe and his young son Joey who is in awe of Shane. He learns that all the local homesteaders are especially cautious of anyone passing through their claims due to increased hostility from the cattle barons who are attempting to drive all the farmers off the local spreads in order to monopolize the entire frontier.

With no real direction and seemingly determined to outrun his mysterious past, Shane stays on with the Starrett family where he and Joe develop an almost brotherly relationship (including one very telling scene with no dialogue where Shane and Joe smile approvingly at each other after successfully remove a stump Joe has been trying to get rid of for some time) Joey’s idolization of Shane increases the more hesitant Shane is to discuss his life and Joe’s wife Marian and Shane have little verbal communication but are frequently shown glancing at each other while conversing with Joe. While it never seems flirty or out of line, it does come across as inappropriate at times.

Shane visits the local General Store/Saloon which is mostly filled with partisans of the dominant local cattle king, Mr. Ryker. The locals have gotten used to being harassed by Ryker’s thugs, but Shane is unaware of how bad matters are. After taking repeated abuse from the hired goons Shane walks away, which actually shrouds him in more mystery. By not taking the bait and engaging in the fight it is assumed that either Shane can’t handle himself or that he is going to great lengths to show some restraint. In a later encounter with the same group, Shane reveals that it is in fact the latter, as he soundly hands about 5 guys their asses. When Joe joins the fight the pair appears to be unstoppable, and in a shot almost identical to the one involving the stump, the two silently smile and nod to each other before finishing the fight.

The use of silence to convey emotions and interpersonal connections is a brilliant and recurring tool used in “Shane.” Not only does it leave a level of ambiguity as to the nature and depth of the relationships between the characters (particularly the repeated shots of Marian and Shane looking at each other) but it also stays consistent with Shane’s character, he is not talkative or open about his past, thus he would probably not be overly expressive with his feelings.

Conversely, Joey, who of course does not have the verbal filter of an adult freely lets his adoration of Shane fly from his mouth. In addition to speculating about Shane’s ability to fight, he flatly asks Joe if he thinks Shane will teach him how to shoot. Joe offers to teach him himself but Joey dismisses the proposal, assuming that Shane must be a far better gunman than his father. What you have to keep in mind is that at the time this film is set (the height of the westward expansion) that the ideal hero for a little boy was the quintessential cowboy- as described in novels and games of Cowboys and Indians. To have a “real” cowboy plopped right into his lap, complete with the mysterious past, would have been like setting a superhero or a ninja down in front of a modern-day child. So even though it is flat out disrespectful to his upstanding and respectable father, one can hardly blame Joey’s wide-eyed idolization of Shane.

The relationship between Shane and Marian begins to manifest itself in conversations between her and Joey, who can’t stop praising Shane. At one point Joey asks his mother if it is ok that he loves Shane almost as much as his own father, not only does this not even faze her, but she actually concedes that it is in fact ok, all the while admiring Shane. The other is perhaps the most blatant showing of emotion we see from anyone in the film as she tries to convince Joey that he shouldn’t get too attached to Shane, because at some point he is going to leave. While saying this to her son, she is clearly projecting her own emotions as she fights back a slightly teary warble at the notion of Shane no longer being a part of the family’s lives. Marian is lecturing herself every bit as much as her son.

”Don't get to liking Shane too much...I don't want you to...He'll be moving on one day, Joey. You'll be upset if you get to liking him too much.” (Marian Starrett, “Shane”)


Tensions between Ryker and the homestead farmers reach a breaking point when buyout offers are refused, intimidation tactics fail and even an example-murder of one of them doesn’t scare the settlers off. Joe prepares himself to go into town to kill Ryker and almost surely be killed himself as Marian pleads with him not to go. It is at this point that the lines between honor and jealousy become blurred. Joe reveals that he knows Marian has feelings for Shane but also confirms that he understands neither of them had acted on them. As a result, Joe feels the need to prove himself to his family every bit as much as he is simply compelled to do the right thing by killing Ryker. Joe’s determination only intensifies when Shane offers to go in his place.
Solely out of love for his friend, Shane does everything he can to physically prevent Joe from certain death. The fistfight that ensues between the two is one of the most artistic and beautiful ever filmed. The two silhouetted figures are backlit by a gorgeous full moon as they significantly crash into the stump the two friends removed together. While it still remains upright it wobbles and shifts in an obvious metaphor of Shane and Joe’s relationship at that moment. In a final act of desperation, Shane uses the butt of his pistol to knock Joe out. While this brutal and underhanded act is done as a last ditch effort to save Joe from death, Joey only recognizes it as a cheap shot on his own father which knocks Shane off the pedestal the boy has elevated him to since first laying eyes on him.

Shane rides into town, vanquishes the evil-doers and makes amends with Joey, who has followed him to the fight. As the two engage in an emotional goodbye, Joey begs Shane to stay. Even though he still looks up to Shane, it is in a more familial way now rather than wanting him there as a mentor. However, Shane has suffered a gunshot wound in the final battle and, while never said, it is implied that he is dying. He rides off into the moonlight (again, the opposite of what every other western crams down our throats) as Joey calls out to him to “come back.” Which of course could mean to literally come back, or, as children who don’t fully grasp the concept of death might say to someone who is passing on, more of a “please don’t die” sort of cry.

There are so many things I appreciate about “Shane” which also illustrate that not every western has to be a testosterone fest. Characters can express real emotions other than anger, people who chose to walk away from fights can still be tough and most importantly while people may not be able to control their feelings, they can still be in control of how they act on them.

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