Harry Carey in Hell Bent (1918) & The Shepherd of the Hills (1941): Part II of The Carey Family in the John Ford Western Universe

I never met Paddy (Patricia Nolan-Hall), but she mentored me from afar almost immediately after I joined the classic movie blogging ranks, with supportive comments on so many of my posts and on Twitter. (How is it that she had seen nearly every film I wrote about?😄) When the word came that she had passed, part of me couldn't imagine continuing my blog without her inspiration. Her loss was a profound one for so many of us, most of all her family, so I offer my condolences here.

Click on the image above to read all the posts
in honor of our friend Paddy. And check out Paddy's blog
at www.caftanwoman.com

I was delighted that Jacqueline of Another Old Movie Blog and Patty of Lady Eve's Reel Life decided to host a blogathon in her honor. At first, I struggled to identify a subject to write about. Then it came to me: it had to have a Western theme. On her Blogger profile, Paddy asserted, "John Ford is my religion." My idea then crystallized into a focus on Harry Carey. Why? A few years ago I wrote about the Carey family for a CMBA blogathon on movie history. While I was particularly proud of my post, I was embarrassed that I hadn't seen that she had written something very similar a few months earlier. I let her know how I felt, and she was most gracious, commenting, "Great minds think alike! I can't wait to read your post." 

I think of this post as a follow-up to my earlier post. Here I focus on Harry Carey Sr., and his far-reaching influence in film history, by reviewing two films he starred in: first, a recently-recovered silent film he made with John Ford: Hell Bent (1918), and second, a late-career film in which the father-son dynamics between Carey and Ford's protege, John Wayne, were on full display: The Shepherd of the Hills (1941).

Harry Carey in the 1920s

Harry Carey (1878-1947) was born Henry DeWitt Carey in the Bronx, the son of a judge on the New York Supreme Court. Young Carey was following his father's footsteps into the law when he got sidetracked by a stint on a ranch in Montana that dramatically altered his career path. He began to write and act in local plays and eventually met D.W. Griffith through an acting friend; soon he was back in New York working for Biograph in a brand new industry called motion pictures. After six years at Biograph, he hopped over to Universal and began a prolific association with young John "Jack" Ford.

In fact, according to Ford biographer Scott Eyman, Carey pressed Universal studio head Laemmle to let Ford direct him, as he was impressed with Ford's uncanny storytelling abilities. The two became fast friends, and Ford even lived with newlyweds Harry and Olive Carey acting out their fascination with all things Western, sleeping outside and such. Sixteen years Ford's senior, Carey did nearly as much directing on the 20+ films they made together as did Ford. And the two often collaborated on the scripts and experimented together during production. It's not an exaggeration to say Ford's matured into one of film history's top directors under Carey's mentorship.

Ford's first feature-length film was Straight Shooting (1917), which starred Carey as "Cheyenne Harry," a rugged, complex, but heroic cowboy character. This role was created by Carey and suited his significant acting range perfectly. It made Carey a star and a wealthy man, as story after story was written and filmed, especially with Ford, to create more and more complex and enjoyable films. Sadly, most of those were lost as were the majority of silents from those early days.

Hell Bent (1918)
This film was made in Ford and Carey's fertile collaborative period, and like a few others, was discovered in The Czech Republic as a nitrate print. Universal restored the film in 2019 and re-released it, with Kino Lorber publishing it on DVD/Blu-Ray format. 

In Hell Bent, Cheyenne Harry confronts a gang of murderous thieves in a small Western town who have abducted his love interest, who in turn has been betrayed by her own brother. With the help of Cimmaron Bill, Cheyenne Harry must do battle with them out in the desert to rescue her.

Carey and his leading lady, Neva Gerber.

Ford fans should watch the film to see Ford's signature style begin to emerge. What I noticed here that would be expanded in his top features of the 1940s and 1950s include expansive panoramic shots of stunning landscapes, and those through small enclosures: doors, windows, etc., to frame characters and action. There was an extended scene with Cheyenne Harry and his potential rival, Cimmaron Bill (Duke R. Lee) in which Harry takes his horse up the saloon stairs to the rental rooms to try to convince Bill to let him share the room. Bill is not amused when Harry's horse starts eating the straw out of his mattress! But over time, the two men become fast friends. It's an extended and comic scene reminiscent of the male-bonding scenes in Ford's "cavalry trilogy" of the late 1940s.

Life in small Western towns can get out of hand sometimes.

One of the first times Carey displays his characteristic
arm grab pose. In this moment he had just taken a bullet
 in the right arm!

Despite the pedestrian plot, I had great fun with this one as a result of the comic relief, the action scenes, and particularly Carey's nuanced and charismatic performance. His rugged features are just handsome enough, that despite him being nearly 40 years old, you believe that he wins the girl in the end. And unlike the other male characters, who rely on heavy makeup and facial contortions, Carey is natural. Watch the entire film here.

The Shepherd of the Hills (1941)

With the advent of talking pictures, Carey's age prevented him from taking on leading roles in top films, with the exception of Trader Horn (1931), but he continued his steady work headlining B Westerns at various "Poverty Row" studios. In the 1930s and 1940s, he occasionally snagged plum supporting parts, including that for which he garnered his only Oscar nod, as the Senate President in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939). But perhaps more important during this time than his acting contributions to cinema was his relationship with an actor on the way up, John Wayne. 

According to Wayne's biographer Scott Eyman, Wayne looked up to Carey and his wife Olive as surrogate parents, with Carey Sr. as supportive and nurturing as his other father figure, John Ford, was strict and distant. Further, apparently, Olive Carey impressed upon Wayne the necessity to stick with what works for maximum career success. She said, "Be like Harry. Be John Wayne - be what people want you to be." From then on, Eyman said, Wayne gave up any notion of branching out to take on radically different roles and worked to adopt the central core personality to build a relationship with audiences, like Carey had done, that would last throughout a long career.

Perhaps appropriately, the first time that Wayne and Carey acted together was in this film, where they portrayed father and son. For that reason, I was particularly interested in watching it.

This film was an 'A' picture made by Paramount, directed by Henry Hathaway; it starred Wayne, fresh off the success of Stagecoach, contract player Betty Field, Carey, and featured well-known and loved supporting actors including Ward Bond, Beulah Bondi, Marjorie Main, and John Qualen. I had no idea it was the third film adaptation of a popular novel (Harold Bell Wright) about a family drama playing out in the 19th century Ozark Mountains of Missouri. Not exactly a Western, but with the rural, early 20th-century setting, stunning scenery, and struggle for land and dominance, it qualifies as a close cousin.

Residents of the Ozarks gather as a medical "miracle" 
is revealed.

Carey played the titular "shepherd": a stranger returning to his home in the Ozarks after being absent for the last 25 years. In the interim, his son Matt Matthews (Wayne) has sworn to kill his father (Carey, of course) because he blames him for leaving his mother to die at a young age. As a result, Carey must keep his identity secret, and he begins building relationships with the local moonshiners, by doing good deeds despite the hostility directed at him as a mysterious stranger looking to make changes to a long-abandoned homestead. He's befriended by young Sammy (Betty Field), who begins to act as his ambassador/daughter figure, and there are a few twists and a few tears before the closing credits.

Carey and Wayne in The Shepherd of the Hills

The film is beautifully filmed and the characters are all drawn somewhat eccentrically. Each actor inhabits their part and creates a forward momentum despite a somewhat sluggish script. Perpetually cranky New York Times reviewer Bosley Crowther said this, which I just couldn't resist quoting: "With a beatific Technicolor smile and a mouthful of platitudes, "The Shepherd of the Hills" walked into the Paramount yesterday, busily shedding sweetness and light as he came. Never, since Harold Bell Wright first sent the shepherd back to Moanin' Meadow to face the curse of the Matthews has there lived a man whose mere presence was so benedictive, whose utterances were more suitable for framing as wall samplers, or who wore his halo more rigidly fixed."

Beulah Bondi (right) throws vitriol at Carey (left) while
a concerned Betty Field looks on.

But Crowther went on to praise Carey, saying, "Harry Carey as the shepherd is invariably more convincing than his material." I agree. The ratio of benefactor to tough guy in his character is about 75/25, about the inverse of Cheyenne Harry in Hell Bent. Both sides of his persona are convincing and natural. And despite his premature aging, clearly evident on the screen, he's magnetic. 

Carey bonds with Marjorie Main, her character blind from birth.

Carey with his broad grin.

Wayne is fine, too, but the real revelation for me is Massachusetts native Betty Field, who is spunky and delightful with her mountain-gal naiveté, and who realizes the kind stranger's true identity before anyone else does. She's a great foil to both Carey and Wayne, and her lines and her delivery seemed like she was reciting Shakespeare translated to Appalachian. I need to see more of her. The only film I'd seen her in before this one was The Great Gatsby (1949) with Alan Ladd, where she seemed miscast and wooden as Daisy Buchanan. 

I adored Betty Field in this film.

Bonus Tidbits

Watch John Wayne discuss his admiration for Harry Carey, and how he played tribute to him in one of his finest films with John Ford, 1956's The Searchers, in this clip from the series "Hollywood: A Celebration of the American Silent Film". 

Fun fact: The Shepherd of the Hills is a stage show perennially mounted in Branson, Missouri as a tourist attraction. If you're planning to be anywhere close to there, check it out!

And don't forget to check out all the posts honoring our virtual blogging friend. RIP, dear Paddy.

Selected Sources
Eyman, Scott, John Wayne, the Life and the Legend, Simon & Schuster, 2014.
Eyman, Scott, Print the Legend: The Life and Times of John Ford, Simon & Schuster, 1999.
Kitses, Jim, Horizons West, The British Film Institute, 2004.

Crazy Scary: Richard Widmark as Tommy Udo in KISS OF DEATH (1947)

I'm pleased to share this post on Tommy Udo for the Great Villain Blogathon 2016, brought to you by Kristina at Speakeasy, Ruth at Shadows and Satin, and Karen at Silver Screenings. Check out their pages for the complete list of great posts for the characters we love to hate. NOTE: POSSIBLE SPOILERS AHEAD!

Imagine you never heard of Richard Widmark, didn't know he garnered an Oscar nomination for his first ever film, KISS OF DEATH, and certainly aren't aware of any infamous scene involving a middle-aged woman and a wheelchair.  Audiences in 1947, coming to see KISS OF DEATH for the first time, would fit this description.  In 1947 you would have likely paid your money to see Victor Mature, a reliable, good-looking leading man, or perhaps wanted to check out new leading lady Coleen Gray.  Maybe you had heard of and admired the work of director Henry Hathaway, who had a respectable resume with films starting from 1930, and in fact continued his career through the mid 1970s with directing credits on classics as TRUE GRIT, NEVADA SMITH, and AIRPORT.  Or maybe you were attracted by the movie's provocative title and wanted to be scared, seduced, or both.  Coming out of the movie, though, you would most likely be talking most about one thing: the villain in this piece, Tommy Udo.  This post examines how skillfully Widmark, Hathaway, and the film's writers and crew, created this inimitable character.

Immediately after the opening credits

The film itself is a respectable but not outstanding noir, with hallmarks of the genre including voice-over narration at the beginning and end (however, this time coming from a woman (!)), and on-location settings in NYC claiming to be the real locations.  Both features were common to the 'docu-noir' style of the time, which is a nice touch and adds to the grittiness of the action.

Victor Mature as Bianco trying to
make a quiet getaway from the crime scene

After the credits roll Victor Mature makes his appearance, a tall, dark and handsome man named Bianco, who looks too straight to be staging a jewelry store robbery in the middle of a crowded commercial high rise during prime shopping time.  He is clumsy in how he handles the robbery, and bungles every attempt to escape.  He gets caught and, it turns out, he has an extensive record of various similar crimes and has done time.  Considering this is Victor Mature, and he looks as if he could have just given a sermon at his local Presbyterian church--that's how earnest he comes across--you might have trouble buying him as a criminal.  Nonetheless he would likely succeed in winning your sympathy as the protagonist who needs another chance to redeem himself.

About 13 minutes into the film you'll encounter the character Tommy Udo (pronounced "YOO-doe"), not as a live human but as words on a page, declaring him worthy of a prison sentence.  You probably take little notice or meaning to those words, and certainly don't appreciate the foreshadowing of the future link between the two men.  He certainly wasn't part of the jewelry store robbery that got our hero in trouble.

The protagonist, Bianco, and villain Udo, to be sentenced on the same day.

Widmark as Udo keeping an eye
 on the guards outside his cell

However, when you first *see* him in the flesh -- he makes an immediate impression as a thin blond man behind bars, sitting to the right of Mature.  Your hair will likely rise on the back of your neck. Why? He speaks with an ugly street-cultivated New York accent, spitting his words and sneering while goading both the prison guard, "that cheap squirt passing up and down", and Mature's Bianco.  And then he switches from spitting insults to laughing -- and what a laugh.  He curls his lips and emits a nasal chuckle that borders just on the hysterical.  (Ironically, the laugh originated from a nervous habit that Widmark had when originally reading for the role -- Kim R. Holston, Richard Widmark, a Bio-Bibliography.) Still, rather than assigning any real importance to this character, and not knowing anything about his past, you're thinking, oh, this is just the type of uncomfortable company our hero is going to have to deal with during his time in Sing-Sing.  (Bianco gets a full sentence by refusing a deal from Assistant District Attorney D'Angelo (Brian Donlevy) to get less time by squealing on his crime partners.)

The next scene has Bianco and Udo in a train on their way to Sing-Sing, and they are handcuffed together.  Again a foreshadowing of the characters' fateful connection that, as a viewer in 1947, you would not have appreciated, but it certainly is a clever touch by writers Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer.

Bianco (Mature) enjoys a fun moment
with Nettie (Gray), now married.

Udo will disappear from your mind as he disappears from the plot of the film for some 30 more minutes.  We see how young, innocent Coleen Gray as Nettie comes to the emotional aid of Bianco, and how Bianco changes his mind about not squealing after learning one of his partners ("Rizzo" - never seen on screen) was involved with his wife, leading to her suicide, and wants to take revenge and get his life back.  He is paroled under the watchful eye of D'Angelo, reunites with his daughters, and marries Nettie.  But the price is high.  The deal Bianco makes with D'Angelo is to use his scheister of an attorney, Earl Howser, wonderfully played by Taylor Holmes, to get to Rizzo--the associate at whom Bianco throws suspicion as a squealer in an earlier crime.  Howser hires, you guessed it, hit man Udo, also freshly out of prison, to get to Rizzo. But Udo doesn't 'get' Rizzo, just his wheelchair bound mother (Mildred Dunnock) who he encounters in the famous wheelchair scene.

Widmark and Mildred Dunnock

This scene is where we see Widmark pull out all the stops.  As a 1947 viewer of course you know this guy is trouble, but unlike scary tough characters portrayed by the likes of Edward G. Robinson or James Cagney in gangster films, this guy looks like a strong wind would take care of him. He's hunched over, swaying slightly back and forth, his normal posture demanding his shoulders are uneven, and stomps what remains of his cigarette on the apartment floor.  When he discovers Rizzo has made a hasty exit and his mother is lying to cover up, he approaches her first with that deranged laughter, then rapidly switches to rage. His habit of wiping his mouth during the emotional transition is a tic that appears later in the film -- a nice touch Widmark adds to give us the feeling this guy is unhinged.  He says "You know what I do to squealers? I let 'em have it in the belly, so they can roll around for a long time thinkin' it over."

Then, he jumps into action, rips out the electric cord from a lamp, wraps it tight around Dunnock, and hurls her, wheelchair and all, down the stairs, while she screams before crashing to her most certain death.  You, the viewer, might lose your lunch at this point.  This animal, with not the slightest hesitation, kills with pleasure, and he doesn't even care that it's messy -- he's panther on the loose.

Watch the entire infamous wheelchair scene here:

You'll barely have a chance to recover from the shock of this scene before it becomes clear that Bianco's association with Udo is not done -- he's been told he has to get in Udo's confidence to pull critical damning information that D'Angelo can use to get Udo put away.  Now the two men are back in the same scene, both of their fates hanging on what the other will do. You're likely scared at the thought that Bianco has to deal with this guy -- if he slips only slightly, the consequences will be severe.  Your fear is only enhanced by the contrast between the two men -- Mature is tall, dark, large-boned and, Widmark is blond and slight. Widmark has a frantic energy, while Mature is calm, solemn, and quiet. The scene plays out with Udo believing ex-con Bianco is his "paaaal", and takes him to various night clubs, putting on displays of ill-treating everyone around, but eventually gives Bianco critical info. that he needs.

Bianco (Mature) looks on as Udo makes threats towards his girl--just look at her face.

But this isn't all.  Bianco is going to have to testify at Udo's trial, which D'Angelo says is a sure conviction.  You breathe a sigh of relief that that may be it for Udo--but no. The prosecution's case wasn't strong enough, and Udo was let free--free to hunt down Bianco.  The tension is ratcheted up when Bianco, on his own terms, decides to entice Udo into a late-night meeting with the purpose of sacrificing himself so Udo can be caught in the act of murder.  This scene is terrifying, and with Widmark's portrayal of Udo as a madman, you wonder if he will behave in the rational ways Bianco is expecting.  I'm not going to spoil the ending of the film, although I realize many readers know it.

I've mentioned how Widmark uses his voice, mannerisms, and body to portray an unhinged psychopath.  But beyond that, 20th Century-Fox's costume and wardrobe team made excellent choices to enhance this impression on the viewer. At first I knew there was something about the way this guy dressed...sure, perhaps it was the unusual dark suit and light tie combination.  But then I realized, only on second viewing--the HAT!!  The hat initially seems like a typical 1940s fedora.  But Udo's hat is out of proportion--the brim is too wide and too flat, dwarfing Widmark's head and face.  The effect is somewhat clown-like.  It's the clown-like effect that makes Widmark's Udo just that much crazier and scarier.  Have a look:

After his turn in this film in 1947, Widmark was no longer unknown. In an interview with the Telegraph UK's Michael Shelden, he stated he felt like he "overdid" his portrayal of Udo, and was self-conscious, knowing he wasn't Darryl Zanuck's original choice for the role.  His career off and running, he got teased by fellow actors about his crazy laugh, but he had attained his goal--to be in the movies.  For a while he was typecast him into playing very similar characters in films such as ROAD HOUSE.  Luckily for film lovers and for Widmark, and unlike other talents who were typecast early (Laird Cregar, for one), he was able to exercise his acting range in different roles and is remembered not just for this film, but for portrayals in westerns, and as solemn, morally-grounded characters such as Col. Tad Lawson in JUDGMENT AT NUREMBERG (1962).

Frank Gorshin as 'The Riddler'
from www.denofgeek.com

Yet, it may be his first role that is his most iconic.  Some have pointed out the character similarities between Udo and 'The Riddler' or even 'The Joker' in Batman franchise.  In fact Frank Gorshin, who portrayed The Riddler in the 1966 film and the TV series, cited Widmark's Udo as an inspiration.  You may also see a bit of Udo in Heath Ledger's acclaimed portrayal of The Joker as all kinetic energy and malevolent insanity in THE DARK KNIGHT (2008).  Regardless, Widmark's accomplishment with this character ensures that Udo, once experienced, will likely never be too far from our nightmares.