January | 2024 | Riding the High Country

You want to go in like this? You want people to talk about it the the rest of their lives, how the mouse brought back the cat?

The taglines used by the marketing men for The Wild North (1952) tended to emphasize the man vs nature and and the man against man aspects of the movie. These elements are there without question, but I find much of the story boils down to the matter of reversals as well as our old acquaintance redemption. It is one of those bracing and beautiful outdoor adventures – some might term it a western, but I’m not convinced and I see no need to hang that label on it – that places its characters, both willingly and unwillingly, beyond the bounds of civilization and invites us along to observe how they react and respond to the challenges this presents them with.

More than one wilderness based movie has opened with the visit of the protagonist to town or to some kind of settlement, and such stopovers almost inevitably lead to trouble. Such is the case here as Jules Vincent (Stewart Granger) makes one of his infrequent trips back to what passes for civilization, looking for a chance to get drunk and maybe find some attractive company. Well the liquor is easy enough to come by and the nameless Indian girl (Cyd Charisse) singing in the saloon satisfies on the other score. However, he also manages to draw the attention of a loud, aggressive type called Brody (Howard Petrie). Despite their initial antipathy, Vincent agrees to take Brody along as a passenger on his journey back north alongside the girl who has convinced him of her desire to return to the wild country she hails from. It’s giving nothing in particular away here when I say that Brody soon winds up dead. His demise is never shown – this is not to create any sense of ambiguity regarding his fate, but I guess it’s meant to lessen the impact of the viewer’s knowledge that Vincent has become a killer. The reason given is that Brody’s determination to take on the lethal rapids was putting everyone’s lives at risk yet Vincent has no faith in a jury of townsmen’s ability to appreciate the necessity for his actions. So he takes the girl and runs north, bent on losing himself in the environment he knows best. As with all the best Mountie stories however, the law, in the shape of Constable Pedley (Wendell Corey), is not to be denied its man.

What follows develops largely into a two-hander as Pedley arrests Vincent and sets out on the long and treacherous trek back though the harsh winter conditions. One would expect conflict and friction between the two men, which is indeed present, but this doesn’t take refuge in the hackneyed hiding places of some lesser films. The rivalry is tempered from the outset by a grudging mutual respect and fondness, the kind that only two very different characters can experience. Pedley has a job to do and will see it through no matter what yet he has no personal axe to grind with his captive and actually likes him. Similarly, Vincent sees in his captor a man he can admire to some extent. In spite of the apparent contrast in one man’s untamed ebullience and another’s steely but witty intelligence, there is a strong sense of humanity binding these two together. That bond becomes ever stronger and more vital as they both face threats to life and limb from thieves, an avalanche, and a terrifyingly tenacious pack of wolves.

Stewart Granger is in fine form in his second of three films with director Andrew Marton, King Solomon’s Mines and Green Fire being the others. He gets across the brashness of the trapper, the love of the outdoors (something I think the star shared in reality) and also that streak of ruthlessness that must surely be found in all such men. There are a couple of occasions where that latter aspect is allowed to manifest itself even if it’s quickly suppressed as his character’s basic humanity asserts itself more forcefully. However, it is there and it lends an authentic air of danger to Jules Vincent. Set against that is Wendell Corey’s much quieter work, and the two approaches genuinely complement one another. Corey could appear stiff and far too reserved in certain films yet he brings a marvelously controlled charm to this role. He’s no rigid authoritarian, but nor is he a pushover. While he’s competent and organized, he has heart and humor as well as a well judged awareness of his own limitations and loneliness. Ultimately, I think this is what makes the film work, the acknowledgment by both men of their respective strengths and weaknesses. As the threats pile up and the roles are reversed, it’s the redemptive reflex they both respond to that give it its heart. In their own different ways they save each other and by doing so save themselves. Cyd Charisse is only in the picture intermittently and anyone waiting for some tiresomely contrived romantic triangle to arise will be disappointed. She is absent from the long main section and I think that’s actually just as well as it allows the focus to remain firmly on the struggles of Corey and Granger in the snowy wastes. Support comes from an abrasive Howard Petrie, Ray Teal as a shifty trapper, Houseley Stevenson (in one of his last feature roles), and J M Kerrigan.

Films which use the great outdoors and wilderness landscapes as their backdrop can sometimes drift into mindless action that loses its impact when overused or they can linger too lovingly on the visual splendor of their locations. The Wild North avoids these pitfalls by remembering that the essentials of the story stem from the character dynamic, that its success derives from within rather than from the more superficial elements. It’s a matter of balance, something which I feel this movie achieves and it manages to become a positive, uplifting, life-affirming experience in the process.

La Revolución is like a great love affair. In the beginning, she is a goddess. A holy cause. But, every love affair has a terrible enemy: time. We see her as she is. La Revolución is not a goddess but a whore. She was never pure, never saintly, never perfect. And we run away, find another lover, another cause. Quick, sordid affairs. Lust, but no love. Passion, but no compassion. Without love, without a cause, we are nothing! We stay because we believe. We leave because we are disillusioned. We come back because we are lost. We die because we are committed.

Random musings on the nature of revolution, words which have an attractive feel, a weary patina lying somewhere just the right side of cynicism. That, I think, is the effect they are meant to convey, but therein is their problem, and by extension part of the problem of the movie they appear in. Hearing them spoken by Jack Palance’s wounded rebel and reading them back here leaves me with the impression that they have been crafted for just that, for effect rather than for truth or out of any real conviction. I watched The Professionals (1966) again the other day, a movie I’ve seen fair few times now, and came away from it thinking it entertaining enough although somewhat lacking in substance. Like so many films by Richard Brooks, it doesn’t do much wrong, doing a lot right in fact, yet never actually amounts to as much as the filmmaker would have us believe.

During the latter half of the Mexican Revolution a group of four men, introduced via brief sketches during the opening credits, are hired by a wealthy businessman to get his kidnapped wife back. That’s the plot of the movie in a nutshell. It’s a simple enough setup, fleshed out by the colorful nature of a some of the leads as well as the dynamic created by their intertwined pasts, and of course the turbulent background of a country riven by internal conflict. The hired hands are led by Rico Fardan (Lee Marvin) a former associate of Pancho Villa, Bill Dolworth (Burt Lancaster) a womanizing rogue with a talent for blowing things up, Ehrengard (Robert Ryan) a diffident wrangler, and Jake (Woody Strode) a tracker and expert with a longbow. Their employer is one J W Grant (Ralph Bellamy), an ageing tycoon married to the much younger Maria (Claudia Cardinale). On the other side is Raza (Jack Palance), one of those bandits with a reputation approaching legendary status. The story is broken into a classic three act structure – the preparation and the journey out, the rescue, and the ride back leading to the denouement. If it sounds a bit formulaic, that’s because it is. There aren’t really too many surprises and the twist that is supposed to grab the viewer comes as more of a shock to the characters on screen.

This probably sounds more negative than I mean it to – the film is (as one would hope from the title) all very professionally shot and put together. It’s amiable and exciting in all the right places, the big set piece assault on Raza’s hacienda is filmed with style, the dialogue is peppered with memorable one-liners, and Conrad Hall photographs the desert locations beautifully. Yet when it all wraps up and the final credits roll, I can’t help feeling I’ve just had the cinematic equivalent of an attractively packaged fast food meal – pleasing and enjoyable while it’s there in front of you, but not something that is going to linger long in the memory when it’s finished.

A film scripted and directed by Richard Brooks (The Last Hunt) from a novel by Frank O’Rourke (The Bravados) inevitably raises expectations given the examples of the author’s and the director’s work cited. I guess that’s why it belongs in my own personal category of movies I like and enjoy even though I don’t believe they warrant an especially high rating. Films such as The Last Hunt and The Bravados stay with you long after they have been viewed, the performances and themes, the images and the very philosophy underpinning them have a way of boring into one’s consciousness and commanding attention. I guess what it comes down to is this – those are movies which touch on greatness, The Professionals is fun.

Lee Marvin and Jack Palance appeared in, by my count, four movies together – in additions to this, there’s Attack, I Died a Thousand Times and Monte Walsh. I feel confident that the latter is by far the best of them, closely followed by Aldrich’s intense study of men in war. The fact is all of the star players, and I’m counting Lancaster, Ryan, Cardinale, Strode and Bellamy here, all made much stronger films, all had roles that stretched them and highlighted their strengths to a greater degree than this. On the other hand, every one of these people are in essence playing types in The Professionals. This is not to say their performances are poor or weak, merely that the way the roles are written allow for next to no development – there are hints of back stories, mentions of experiences that would shape characters, but none of those characters grow over the course of the story. What we see at the start is pretty much the same as what we see at the end.

So, is The Professionals a good movie? The critics seem to have been kind over the years and its reputation remains strong. I like it well enough myself; I’ve watched it a number of times and I’m not in the habit of doing so with films which hold no appeal. Even so, I retain reservations about it, which I think is representative of my attitude to or how I respond to much of Richard Brooks’ work. Parts of his oeuvre hit the mark, have an impact beyond the immediate and provoke me in some way. On the other hand, all too often I find I’m left only half satisfied.