Rio Bravo(Howard Hawks, 1959) Rollicking pop-western that might be, along with Only Angels Have Wings, the quintessential Howard Hawks movie. It's a drama with comedy. And if it was a mystery starring Humphrey Bogart, it would be acclaimed for its dexterous story-telling and depth of technique.
But because it's a "John Wayne Western," it gets no respect, or retrospective. But who says life is fair? Certainly not a man hung with a moniker like John T. Chance.
The story goes that both John Wayne and Howard Hawks hated High Noon, but for differing reasons: Wayne, because it was a veiled slam at McCarthy and Hawks because of its basic story structure. Hawks found it appalling that Sheriff Will Kane (Gary Cooper) would ask for volunteers in his fight against the Miller boys. "It's his responsibility. Let him handle it," was Hawks' reasoning. "If he can't, he shouldn't have the badge."
It's a sound argument, and Hawks makes it the cornerstone for the beginning of Rio Bravo. Sheriff Chance (John Wayne) has a member of the Burdette gang (Claude Akins) jailed for murder, waiting for the Marshall to get to town. For help, he has his coot-ish old deputy "Stumpy" (Walter Brennan, sans teeth) and a former deputy named "Dude" (Dean Martin), who suffers from the shakes and dry heaves during an imposed drying out spell.
"That all you got?" says wagon-master Pat Wheeler (Ward Bond), not really asking. "That's what I got," says Chance.
Chance refuses all offers of aid from the townspeople; the guys he's got are at least deputized. They won't get in the way like "well-meaning amateurs." And the one guy from Wheeler's party he'd like to have help--Ricky Nelson's "Colorado" (or as first, Wayne, then everybody pronounces it, "Colorada")--won't. It's the kid's good sense not to get involved with the fight that impresses Chance the most.
And this is why I prefer Rio Bravo to an ideology-based western trying to make societal points, like High Noon: Rio Bravo is practical. All the protagonists have to do is wait out the Burdettes, who are always thinking up ways to breach the jail. There are also other concerns--Dude's alcoholism and self-esteem issues. Then there's "the girl," "Feathers" by name (Angie Dickinson), and she's a boiled-down bad good girl in the best "plays-with-boys" tradition of Hawks women. her exchanges with a flummoxed and humiliated Wayne are some of the best examples of Hawks' "three-corner" line of dialog in the director's canon (and despite the screen credits of Jules Furthman and Leigh Brackett--look at her resume some time--it was Hawks who wrote the dialog).
There are joys aplenty in the details of "Rio Bravo," if one is looking for them. For example:
--The opening: A wordless mini-movie that establishes a lot of relationships with no one exchanging a word. "Dude's" alcoholism and his willingness to humiliate himself for a drink, countered by Chance's concern and disgust all told visually. Hawks shoots films the old traditional way of studio films--mid-shots of the participants centered at eye-level. But for the introduction of Wayne that rule is violated, with an up-angle shot of the Sheriff, shaking his head, from "Dude's" floor-perspective. It's just the first of many strong scenes featuring Martin, recently split from the Martin and Lewis duo, and determined to make it as an actor/singer in his own right.
--Despite the seemingly simplistic story-line, the film is rich in sub-text. For example, watch the oft-used Hawks device of cigarettes--who needs one, who offers, who lights--as an indicator of relationships and charity. Hawks did this in several films, but the tobacco flies fast and loose in Rio Bravo.
--Half the fun of watching "Rio Bravo" is watching the other actors' reactions in scenes. A couple of favorites: Watch Wayne as "Colorada" confronts a fancy-vested gambler who might be cheating at cards.* Wayne's weapon of choice throughout the film is a carbine; he rarely doesn't have it in his hands. During this scene, he holds it lightly in his right hand. When "Fancy-Vest" reaches for a weapon, "Colorada" beats him to the draw. But, off to the side, Wayne has reacted by bringing his rifle to bear, then, once he sees the kid has the situation under control, continues the arc of the rifle to cradle it in his arms, as if that was his intention all along.
--At one point, "Dude" tries to keep information away from Chance, but has his subterfuge spoiled by "Colorada" walking up and blurting it out, while Martin seethes in the background. --Music is an important component in Hawks' work. At one point, there is a sing-along between Martin, Nelson, and, improbably, Brennan. It might seem a hokey moment, but it means something. before this scene, the three were squabbling. Now, they're harmonizing as a unit, collaborating and getting out of each others' way. It's Hawks' way of showing barriers have been broken and a cohesive unit has been formed, something that was done in Bringing Up Baby, Only Angels Have Wings, To Have and Have Not, and countless others.
Rio Bravo is a rich movie-experience, deeply rewarding, and demanding repeated screenings to catch all the details--not a hardship, as it's also fun. It's a distillation, summing-up and expansion of the elements that made Howard Hawks such a unique film-maker, and gifted story-teller.
Can't we all just sing-along? Harmonizing indicates cohesiveness in Rio Bravo
Airport(George Seaton, 1970) TV Guide film critic Judith Crist called the original Airport (it became a series for Universal Studios) "the best picture of 1944." Crist was usually more interested in comedy writing than providing any worthwhile analysis, but it's a good line and actually zeroes in on what's great and not-so-great with Ross Hunter's star-studded production about the trials, tribulations and turbulence (and pre-TSA terrors) associated with the modern (for the 1960's) aeronautical transportation hub. And it's quite the hub, with spokes constantly threatening to detach and fly hither and yon...without a ticket. It's a Grand Hotel with everybody either in transit or in a holding pattern, and nobody questioning why they're called "terminals" (and perhaps they should). Airport shows just how complicated the airplane industry is on a good day, and then complicates things by focusing on a bad one. Given the modern computer glitches that can ground hundreds of flights at a time, as well as the thousand shocks to the security system recent years have presented, a simple mad-bomber on a single flight may seem routine.
"A cast of thousands" (but few were paid)
Airport is an example of "old school" movie production, brimming with established actors and up-and-coming contract players, fussy with detail and the kind of production design that made everything look like a brushed and scrubbed set. The story feels like it could have come out of the '40's (or '50's), the type of thing Ernest K. Gann used to write, that literally was like Grand Hotel in the skies, accentuating all-walks-of-life characters (homo-gentically white), while displaying the author's knowledge and obvious love for the subject matter—in Gann's case, flying. But, this is Arthur Hailey.
"We've got to make room for the new SST's!" Mm-hmm. No, you don't.
The fictional Lincoln International Airport (not located in Chicago) is socked in by bad weather, there's a jet stuck in the snow blocking a runway, a local neighborhood where a couple councilmen live (councilmen live in trailer parks—aren't those around airports?) are protesting being under the glide path, there's a serial stowaway (Helen Hayes, who won an Oscar for pixiness), a smuggler (Jessie Royce Landis), a gigolo pilot (Dean Martin) who's gotten a "stew" (Jacqueline Bissett) pregnant, and a mental patient (Van Heflin) who wants to commit suicide by blowing up a plane for the insurance money (Maureen Stapleton being the chief beneficiary). The axis at the center of the hub is Mel Bakersfeld (Burt Lancaster), trying to manage all this mess like he's herding cats, while also doing a balancing act between his wife (Dana Wynter) who wants a divorce and the pretty public relations officer for one of the airlines (Jean Seberg). Wow! Working at an airport is fun!
"No! If the bomb goes off, this is NOT what the plane is going to look like..."
Well, maybe it isn't, but it sure isn't dull, not when there's a character actor around every corner (Hey! There's Whit Bissell sitting next to Helen Hayes!). It tends to make customer service (which along with office politics seemed to be the specialty of author Arthur Hailey, who also authored "Hotel," "Wheels," and "The Moneychangers"*) a bit more interesting.
"Roger, Roger...Over, Oveur" Dean Martin, Gary Collins, and Barry Nelson
With Lancaster's Bakersfeld handling the politics, George Kennedy's Gus Patroni (who would show up in other Airport movies) handling the mechanics (and putting in plugs for Boeing planes), Dino playing it cool when he's not grousing, and everybody else fretting, the place can handle the bomb-threat and still keep everything grounded (except for the planes).
Airport ushered in the era of the all-star disaster films of the 1970's ("Who will live? Who will die?"), followed by Irwin Allen's ones for Fox, and Universal's series of rumbling "Sensurround" movies (usually starring Charlton Heston). Debris from those films still litter the current movie market-place—I've just seen a trailer for a movie called San Andreas. And whose fault is that? Airport's, obviously.
The cast and a couple of the crew (although Wynter and Kennedy are cardboard cut-outs) Of COURSE, they're sitting in First-Class
* Hailey also wrote the book the film Zero Hour was based on, which, in turn, inspired The Zucker Brothers to make Airplane! (which Airport resembles in all sorts of respects).
Rollicking pop-western that might be, along with Only Angels Have Wings, the quintessential Howard Hawks movie. It's a drama with comedy. And if it was a mystery starring Humphrey Bogart, it would be acclaimed for its dexterous story-telling and depth of technique.
