They Died with Their Boots On

As long as you don't expect to see much actual history, this is an entertaining movie with plenty of action and an Errol Flynn performance that gives his fans everything they could ask for. It covers the life of a character named George Armstrong Custer, whose experiences every so often have some vague similarities with a historical figure of the same name. That is to say, there wasn't much of an effort to make it historically accurate, but they did make it quite enjoyable to watch. And as far as the rampant fabrications go, a light-hearted movie like this is far less likely to create a wrong impression than are today's pseudo-historical movies that take themselves too seriously in pushing some pet theory of the film-makers.

Flynn certainly is well cast as Custer, a role that gives him a chance to do whatever comes naturally to him without placing any constraints on his energy and charisma. The supporting cast is good, too, with Sydney Greenstreet being quite entertaining as the old war-horse Winfield Scott, plus Flynn favorite Olivia de Havilland and others. Things move along at a good pace, and though it may be a little too long, there is usually more than enough going on to hold your attention. It works well as long as you don't take any of it seriously.

This is Custer's last stand, through the Warner Brothers' mill. As a 'biopic', "They Died With Their Boots On" is pure poppycock. One cannot help but admit, however, that Errol Flynn was the ideal choice to play the part of the dashing leader of the doomed 7th Cavalry. Of course, the part wasn't exactly a stretch for him. After all, Flynn had already led "The Charge of the Light Brigade" and portrayed George Armstrong Custer's real-life enemy, Confederate Cavalry General Jeb Stuart, in "Sante Fe Trail" (in which future-President Ronald Reagan depicted Custer).

Appearing opposite Flynn is his ubiquitous co-star, Olivia De Havilland, as Custer's faithful wife Liddy. It has often been said that behind every great man lies a great woman. In Custer's case, that was true to a large extent. The real Liddy Custer spent the rest of her life promoting her late husband's larger-than-life heroic reputation. In that sense, the genesis of this fanciful film might be laid at her door.

Rounding out the fine cast is a young Anthony Quinn as a surprisingly sympathetic (for a 1940s movie) version of Chief Crazy Horse. In fact, Crazy Horse actually comes off as the most sympathetic character in the entire film. Quinn delivered a rather more restrained performance here than was usual in many of his later films. Of course this wasn't the first time he had appeared as a Native American in a movie, but this role was a definite step up because this time Quinn got to play a Native American as a character, and actually deliver some lines.

Of course, action is what any Errol Flynn movie is all about and, in that respect, "They Died With Their Boots On" delivers in spades. Warner Brothers must have collected every horse, rider and pair of boots in Hollywood for the spectacular climax. Surely Custer himself would have approved of Flynn's final scene. One can almost imagine Custer's ghost saying; "Even if that wasn't the way I really died, it certainly is the way I should have".

All in all, an excellent movie from that time and source (coming from Warner Brothers as it was peaking in craftsmanship and style just before WWII), provided you don't take it at all seriously. The movie really makes no claim to being historically accurate, and is certainly no more or less accurate or believable than say, JFK. (This one may actually be more honest about it, though, as it essentially admits along the way that it's not to be taken as particularly fact-based, but more of a stylishly semi-heroic portrayal.) It's worth noting that audiences of the time were no more naive about the story than we are today; the NY Times review conceded that audiences would "dismiss factual inaccuracies sprinkled throughout the film," described the biographical account of Custer's life as "fanciful," and pointed out that the presentation of Custer's motivations regarding the final events were at odds with various historical accounts. They could have really gone overboard in building up Custer, one supposes, but they succeed admirably in depicting him as not necessarily the sharpest or most diligent guy around, but appropriately determined, principled and inspirational.

Flynn and DeHavilland, doing their 8th movie together in 7 years (and their last), are so comfortable together, and play off each other so easily at this point, that it's not too difficult to overlook how thinly their courtship is written here. With a first-time pairing, it would be hard to imagine what could really draw Elizabeth to Custer, but these two make it work. The movie is also missing their director from their previous seven films together (the greatly underrated Michael Curtiz), but given that he had worked with them on the previous year's similar-themed Santa Fe Trail, it's understandable if he chose to opt out of this one. (They all started together with Captain Blood and The Charge of the Light Brigade - both terrific - so we can't really blame them if they started having a tough time keeping it all fresh.)

Raoul Walsh, the director here, is certainly more comfortable with the action sequences - which are outstanding - and everything else outdoors. The interior scenes are a little more uneven, but the studio craftsmen succeed in compensating for that very well, as does Warner Bros' outstanding cast of "usual suspects" and new faces (Greenstreet, Gene Lockhart, Anthony Quinn, Arthur Kennedy, etc). I would have liked it better if Kennedy's character had been a bit less standard (I generally like his work), but here he seems to be hitting roughly the same notes in every scene; the part could have been better written - and I suppose they might have been unsure of what he could handle, as he'd only been in films for one year (Walsh probably took him for this after doing High Sierra together).

Various highlights include the depiction (probably imagined) of the genesis of "Garryowen" as the cavalry theme. The last half hour is particularly outstanding, especially with the parting of the leads echoing the end of their screen partnership, followed by the final battle scenes. A thoroughly rousing adventure.

8 of 10

You've heard the mantra against THEY DIED WITH THEIR BOOTS ON...That the only facts they got right were that there WAS a George Armstrong Custer, he DID serve in the Civil War, and he DID die at the Little Big Horn. This is all true, but what of it? Hollywood has never been obsessed with making historically accurate epics (particularly concerning the West), and, at the time of filming, with America recently plunged into WWII, the WB knew that escapism was essential for film audiences. What better way to take an audiences mind off the depressing war news for a couple of hours than with a grand adventure starring their biggest action star?

Errol Flynn, coming off two minor 1941 releases (the blandly pleasant comedy FOOTSTEPS IN THE DARK, and his first war-related title, DIVE BOMBER) was due for a more 'swashbuckling' role, but the actor flatly refused to work with Michael Curtiz, again. While the Hungarian-born director had guided the actor to stardom, he was a very hard taskmaster, and a mutual hatred between the pair had developed, fueled by Flynn's carousing and lazy work habits. Veteran director Raoul Walsh was called in, and the hard-living director and star would develop an immediate rapport, both on and off-camera (Walsh would go on to direct Flynn in eight films, and drink and ride motorcycles with him between projects).

Another milestone of THEY DIED WITH THEIR BOOTS ON was that this would be Flynn's last teaming with long-time co-star Olivia de Havilland. Although the pair were friends, de Havilland had become a major star in her own right, and she demanded more important roles than just being Flynn's 'love interest', a decision Flynn supported, wholeheartedly. The fact that the stars knew this during the shooting gave their scenes, particularly the final one, a poignancy that is unmatched in any of their other films.

Flynn's Custer was a larger-than-life cavalier, prone to getting in trouble with his superiors, but so charismatic that one enlisted man remarks, "We'd follow him to hell." Barely allowed to leave West Point to serve in the Civil War (his academic record is the worst in West Point's history, "even worse than Ulysses S. Grant" one instructor laments), the new lieutenant is accidentally promoted to Brigadier General, and uses his rank to lead his command in a series of charges at Gettysburg, ultimately saving the day, and the Union, in the process.

Mustered out at the conclusion of the war, inactivity leads the soldier to drinking and despondency, so wife Libby pulls some strings, and gets him a new command, in the Black Hills, leading the Seventh Cavalry. Finding them an undisciplined lot, he closes the bar, introduces discipline, and a new unit song (the immortal 'Garry Owen'). In no time, his unit is a crack outfit.

Custer also befriends Crazy Horse (Anthony Quinn), and promises to keep the sacred Black Hills free of white settlers. Unfortunately, greedy land speculators fake reports of a gold strike there, creating a 'rush', and Custer discovers that the corruption runs all the way to Washington. Unable to prevent the impending slaughter (Congress will only accept his charges if presented as a 'dying declaration'), and facing court martial, Custer bullies President Grant into allowing him to return to his command...and leads the Seventh to the Little Big Horn...

The final charge at the Little Big Horn, concluding with 'Custer's Last Stand' is truly spectacular (Iron Eyes Cody, one of the Indians participating in the sequence, told a great story of an inebriated Flynn, surrounded by his dwindling forces, enthusiastically cussing and firing away, even after director Walsh yelled "Cut!"), and, aided by Max Steiner's decisive music, is one of the most rousing scenes in film history.

Accurate? Are you kidding? But THEY DIED WITH THEIR BOOTS ON, flaws and all, is still cherished as one of Errol Flynn's finest films, during his years as a top star for the WB.

Dashing Errol Flynn brings his usual flair for drama in this historically flawed but entertaining film of the life of George Armstrong Custer. The dashing, jovial Flynn essays Custer from his days at West Point as a reckless, headstrong cadet, through the Civil War years in an extraordinarily generous and partisan interpretation of history, and finally as the nonpareil Indian fighter whose blunder at the Little Big Horn is excused as a sacrifice by Custer of his command as a way of exposing the corruption of government officials and post traders as well as a protest of the unfair treatment of the Plains Indians. Olivia de Havilland, Flynn's co-star in several other films, scores as the devoted, adoring Libby Bacon, and Anthony Quinn looks the part as the fierce Sioux chief Crazy Horse. The film's battle scenes are excellent. The Civil War battles are brief and are shown as several vignettes in which Custer, seemingly supported by just a handful of troopers, hammers the Confederate army into submission. Custer's last fight against the Indians is a grand spectacle, a savage clash between red men and white, with no quarter given in a wild mix of military might between determined fighting men. Great direction, cinematography, casting and wonderful music by Max Steiner make this film a Hollywood classic.