Directed by John Huston.
Starring Burt Lancaster, Audrey Hepburn, Audie Murphy, Doug McClure, John Saxon, Charles Bickford and Lillian Gish.
SYNOPSIS:
A strange old man and a local tribe of Indians start to bother the Zacharys. They claim the Zacharys have something of theirs – a baby girl snatched from them many years ago.
The grave of William Zachary sits in the family’s front yard – a small mound of soil with a modest, wooden cross at its top. At first it appears as a sign of pride, the family’s tribute to their father, a man slain by an Indian arrow. However, as their history unravels before the townsfolk and assorted cowboys, the cross becomes a constant reminder of the mess with which he left them, and the lurking presence of death.
It isn’t the only reminder of death. An old man (Joseph Wiseman) with a sabre has been frequently sighted near the Zacharys’ home, his tall hat casting a disquieting silhouette amongst the reeds. His face is difficult to make out, obscured either by the piercing sun or a wild dust storm. Everyone can hear his God-fearing voice, though. He claims to be an agent of the Lord. He isn’t a man who will simply fade away and die, Ben Zachary (Burt Lancaster) remarks to his brother. He’s the kinda man who needs to be killed.
Ben, as the eldest brother, has positioned himself as the head of the Zachary household. There’s also his mother, Mattilda (Lillian Gish), younger brothers, Cash (Audie Murphy) and Andy (Doug McClure), and adopted sister, Rachel Zachary (Audrey Hepburn). They’re a relatively wealthy, much liked and respected family amongst their Ol’ West community. Until that old man comes claiming Rachel has Indian blood coursing through her veins.
The characters’ prejudice against Indians is fierce in a way similar to Ethan Edwards in The Searchers. Ben and the rest of his men are openly racist towards Johnny Portugal (John Saxon), their best horse tamer, but an Indian all the same. Cash is the most aggressive. He has harboured a grudge since an Indian murdered his father.
The old man’s claims are damaging to the Zacharys’ reputation, and a local tribe have taken interest in Rachel. She might be the long lost sister of one of their men. All this makes the cowboys anxious. They’ve a lot of money tied up in these here cattle, and they don’t want no Indian raiders jeopardising their investments.
In the film’s finest scene, the Zacharys and their men capture the old man. He’s revealed as Abe Kelsey, an old friend of their father who has since gone crazy. He’s brought into their outback court at night, illuminated by torch fire. It’s the first chance you get to really study the man’s face. He’s covered in dust, making the lines in his face look considerably deeper, and one eye appears to be entirely black. With a noose around his neck, he explains his delusional crusade against the Zacherys, his version of the truth skewered by grief, revenge and hate. He speaks with the same fluency and flow of Michael Parks’ preacher in Red State.
John Huston, the film’s director, originally intended The Unforgiven to make a statement about racism in America. He constantly fought the film’s financers, who demanded a less controversial movie. The result is neither a commercial film, nor one that completely tackles racism. Huston would later recall that it’s the only one of his films that he dislikes.
But although the film doesn’t make a statement about racism, the subject still haunts every frame. Rather than propose a socio-political message, racism is made part of the characters and their relationships. Sometimes this is in a purely hateful way, as in Cash. But others are far more complex. Ben flickers between camaraderie and conflict with Portugal, whereas the bond between Rachel and the Indian claiming to be her brother is tragic. Racism is never glorified, but it is portrayed. Doing it that way rings more true to the era.
When the film ends, none of the characters come across as heroic, much like their counterparts a few years later in the Spaghetti Westerns. Instead they look up at the sky, alone in the cold, hard West.
RATING ****
Oli Davis
365 Days, 100 Films
No comments:
Post a Comment