A dialogue-les opening shows an entire town cowering at the arrival of three men on horses passing through the streets to a train station. The reactions of the townspeople make it obvious that their presence spells impending doom, but just to drive the point home the camera strays away from the three riders and pans up to an empty sky where a buzzard symbolically passes overhead.
Switching dramatic gears the mood becomes much lighter as the action focuses on the wedding of Will Kane (Gary Cooper) and his new wife Amy (Grace Kelly). Thanks to some conveniently placed dialogue by the reveling townspeople we learn that Kane is the town marshal but will be turning in his badge to become a pacifist out of respect for Amy’s Quaker beliefs. Kane’s motivation to leave is hastened by the fact that the three men at the train station are waiting for Frank Miller, a killer who Kane had put away years earlier to arrive to exact his revenge.
In the past, I have criticized Quentin Tarantino’s filmmaking style because I don’t like the non-linear storytelling; on the other hand “High Noon” is just the opposite- it depicts all the events in real time. This unique device is cleverly unleashed in two key scenes; where Kane first learns Miller will arrive at noon and the camera zooms in on the nearest clock and again minutes later when Kane’s ex girlfriend Helen Ramirez learns of Kane’s fate and worriedly looks at the clock in her room and only a few minutes have elapsed since the last time. From this point in the movie clocks and time will become a constant theme, every few minutes a new one is zeroed in on, building tension as noon draws eerily closer.
Though it does leave something of a question mark hovering over the story, I like how they never explain why Miller was pardoned and is able to now be coming after Kane because the fact is it doesn’t matter; knowing the reason does not help Kane one way or the other. While fleeing town with Amy, Kane comes to the realization that he has just left the town without a marshal. Rather than worrying about his own well being but not willing to leave the town unprotected against Miller and his gang, he selflessly turns back despite Amy’s protests.
“Why must you be so stupid? Have you forgotten what he is? Have you forgotten what he's done to people? Have your forgotten that he's crazy? Don't you remember when he sat in that chair and said, 'You'll never hang me. I'll come back. I'll kill you, Will Kane. I swear it, I'll kill you.’” (Judge Mettrick, “High Noon”)
As it turns out it isn’t Kane’s heroism or his ego that threaten to be his undoing but rather his incorrect assumption that the people back in town have a spine. Rather than being able to round up a posse to protect the town, Kane finds that everyone that is left of the legal structure has resigned out of sheer cowardice. The remainder of the film reflects one disappointment after another for Kane as Amy declares she will leave him if he doesn’t flee town, efforts to round up special constables prove to be fruitless when the townsfolk claim to support him but refuse to take up his cause or flat out tell him they despise him for killing the liquor and whores business as town marshal.
This represents a really unique paradigm in storytelling and seems almost allegoric of what was happening in America at the time this film was made. Suburbanization was destroying the sense of community by picket fences becoming more of a means of shutting people out than keeping kids in. The Cold War created an “I’ve got mine” mentality by making people so paranoid that loyalty and moral obligation took a backseat to self preservation. There is even something to be said for the possibility that the townsfolk in “High Noon” represent the underbelly of Hollywood at the time where you could call someone a peer but fail to stick up for them when the chips are down (Hollywood’s betrayal of Charlie Chaplin comes to mind). Regardless of what Fred Zinnemann was trying to say with this film, there is something darkly “real” about the fact that the everyman couldn’t be trusted to do the right thing and it is a very bold statement to make such a sweeping generalization about the majority.
In order to create some kind of conflict in the hour-plus leading up to the showdown at noon, a subplot is introduced that centers largely around jealousy. A hotel worker who has no respect for Kane informs Amy that Helen, who is by all indication a prostitute, used to be his lover. This breeds a sort of mutual rivalry between them based on nothing more than simple human nature- Amy is envious of their past, Helen clearly still harbors feelings for Kane but the two are cordial to each other. However, her newest suitor is also the Interim Deputy Sherriff who is envious of Kane both for his past involvement with Helen as well as his level of courage- their exchanges are not so cordial and result in a fistfight in a barn.
The irony is also not lost on me that the people who are supposed to be upstanding citizens are the ones who are most eager to turn their backs on Kane; the judge, the supposed law, every single person in the church he visits in his recruiting efforts. Meanwhile, the “lowlife whore” is the only one who calls out the rest of the citizens for their cowardice. So much so that she sells her stake in the hotel and leaves town in disgust. Rounding out the dramatic twists of irony is the fact that pacifist Quaker Amy ends up actively participating in the gun battle that none of the men will.
Perhaps the most symbolic and decidedly un-western aspect of the film though comes after the climactic gunfight when Kane is surrounded by the cowardly residents who, only when Miller and his gang are dead have any interest in being seen near him. Rather than call them all out, shoot them dead in the streets or refer to them as “yella-bellied” in a Duke-esque voice, he simply looks at them with pure disdain and tosses his badge in the dirt. There are a lot of similarities between Kane’s quiet dignity and the saintly patience of Atticus Finch in the last movie I blogged that all manifests itself in this one scene.
Though I do have a few minor problems with some of the aspects of the film’s execution (the real-time thing is cool and totally creative, but obviously leads to the need for some filler material, the subplot with Helen never feels right and Gary Cooper is an old man and Grace Kelly looks like a teenager) “High Noon” is very intelligent and innovative. Given my negative reaction to movies like “The Wild Bunch” and “Unforgiven” and my embracing of more lofty and soulful westerns like “Shane” and “Stagecoach” it is no wonder why I am able to say, with nothing but affection, that “High Noon” is very, very much the antithesis of a western.
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