Stewart Hit His Stride in ‘Mr. Smith Goes to Washington’ 1939

James Stewart as Jefferson Smith, who's down but not out, in 1939's comedy-drama,
 "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

I never watched Mr. Smith Goes to Washington until 2025 for evolving reasons. First, I was not very political in my younger years, so the subject matter didn't interest me. Later, when I did become more invested in politics, I thought a Frank Capra movie on the workings of Washington, D.C. would be too sentimental and clichéd. Finally, after the last ten years of non-stop US political turmoil, I decided to seek comfort in Mr. Smith’s political journey.

I was taken aback watching Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. While there was sentiment in this cinema classic, it is heartfelt. What really surprised me was how strongly the political corruption was portrayed, and how powerful still is Mr. Smith's disillusionment with the system. The latter is especially so when he collapses on the senate floor, and only then is there a positive resolution. 

In Mr. Smith Goes to Washington’s last act, the naïve senator is railroaded by corrupt politicians, and it is great story telling. While some of the David and Goliath aspects of Smith and his young supporters versus the aging fat cats might be considered corny, there have been similar real life incidents in recent US election cycles that show dirty tricks haven't changed all that much: biased press inciting the masses, running the opposition literally off the road, and treating the opposition with aggressive strong arm tactics. 

James Stewart and Jean Arthur make a marvelous team in 1939's
"Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.

The political story of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is surprisingly in-depth and adult. The scene where Washington insider Clarissa Saunders explains the cycle of creating a bill to Jefferson Smith is snappy and priceless. The opening, with a death of a politician, the first concern is who will replace him! Young Mr. Smith’s tour of the Washington monuments might make you feel downright patriotic. The scene where Smith is thrown under the bus in the Senate to deflect blame for corruption feels very current. And when Jefferson goes to lick his wounds at the Lincoln Memorial, with Saunders touched by Smith’s tears, it is genuinely affecting. So rare for an actor of this era to show his emotions, but that was one of James Stewart’s strengths as an actor. And of course, Stewart’s great monologue, where he filibusters to make his voice heard, and innocence believed. This set piece is very powerful, which we just witnessed the power of a filibuster in real life, recently.

James Stewart gives his heart and soul to the role of Jefferson Smith in 1939's
comedy-drama, "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

The entire cast of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is terrific. In the title role as Jefferson Smith, this is the embodiment of James Stewart's screen persona. Director Frank Capra cast him because he immediately saw that Stewart’s small town genuineness was perfect for everyman Smith. Jimmy is authentic throughout, as his character is put through the wringer. Movie making in 1939 was considered the peak year in film. In any other year, Stewart would have won the Best Actor Oscar. He got a makeup award the next year for The Philadelphia Story. But hey, that guy who played Rhett Butler lost out in ’39, too!

Jean Arthur plays pragmatic yet spirited reporter Clarissa Saunders, who comes to
 believe in James Stewart's new senator, in 1939's "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

Jean Arthur plays the experienced, pragmatic reporter and performs in an understated style, rather than the quirky fusspots she later played. Jean’s nervous energy plays well against Stewart’s laid-back demeanor. Arthur’s Clarissa Saunders has a subtle character trajectory, going from cynical disbelief of innocent Smith to admiring his integrity, to falling in love with him. Jean plays each phase beautifully without a false note.

Frank Capra’s perennial favorites are here: This is Jean Arthur’s third time as a Capra leading lady; there’s Thomas Mitchell as Arthur’s fellow reporter; H.B. Warner as a politician; Edward Arnold, perfectly cast as charismatic but corrupt businessman named James Taylor; and Beulah Bondi’s first time out as Jimmy’s Ma. Stewart appeared in three Capra film, and like the later It’s a Wonderful Life, he's serenaded with Auld Langsyne. 

Beulah Bondi is once again Jimmy Stewart's loving Ma in 1939's comedy-drama,
"Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

Capra always had marvelous ensemble casts in his films, this may be the best: Guy Kibbee as the pliable politician who surprises by picking Stewart’s Jefferson Smith as the next senator; Harry Carey, so wryly expressive as the president of the Senate; Eugene Pallette, very funny as Chick, who’s in charge of herding Smith; and best of all, Claude Rains as Senator Joseph Paine, who was best friends with Smith’s father, but is now conflicted between corruption and conscience. Rains gets to run the gamut in his juicy supporting role: subtle, grand, gentle, glib, charming, rotten—everything! My only criticism with Claude is that his hair was dyed a distractingly snow white. At almost 50, Rains was still 20 years older than Stewart, believable enough as a contemporary of Smith’s father. Finally, look for a very young Jack Carson as a reporter.

Whose idea was it to dye Claude Rains hair snow white at 50 for his role in
1939's comedy-drama, "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington?"

There was a fair amount of location shooting for the era in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and the images are powerful. In particular, those of James Stewart gazing at Abraham Lincoln—two lanky icons! This entire sequence evokes some powerful feelings. The meticulous reproduction of the senate chamber is striking, a most impressive and convincing set. The script is filled with memorable lines, several worth repeating today! Sidney Buchman and Myles Connolly were Mr. Smith’s screenwriters.

Two icons gaze at each other in 1939's "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

I love this scene, where Jimmy Stewart looks on in awe at the Lincoln Memorial,
in 1939's "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

At just over two hours, Mr. Smith sags just a bit in the middle. The Jean Arthur and Thomas Mitchell quasi-romance could have been trimmed a bit. And that cutesy bit with Stewart’s Smith continually dropping his hat in front of Senator Paine’s glamorous daughter is a bit much.

Frank Capra, an Italian immigrant who hailed America, created a great movie with Mr. Smith, about how the fight for democracy is never-ending. While the homespun aspects of this story might put some viewers off, the bigger picture of Capra’s storytelling still resonates deeply. Even for those who call his work “Capra-corn” or naively populist, well, the man had his point of view. And Frank Capra expressed it skillfully in his work.

James Stewart with director Frank Capra at the Lincoln Memorial
for a scene in 1939's "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

The machinations of monopolies, big business buying politicians, and dissenters getting crushed, all seems very familiar and timely, sad to say. To get his message across, Capra wisely didn’t pin identifying labels on the crooked politicians and money men.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington was promoted and hailed as Capra’s best work in 1939. For once, the Hollywood hyperbole was correct. This indeed was Frank’s last film that was both critically and commercially successful. He had more money makers later, but very few critical hits. One film that was underrated at the time later became his signature film, It’s a Wonderful Life.

"Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" was indeed director Frank Capra's greatest hit!

Here’s my look at Frank Capra’s American version of A Christmas Carol, It’s a Wonderful Life: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2016/12/its-wonderful-life-still-has-wonder-70.html

And here’s Jean Arthur, where this time she’s the idealistic politician, visiting war-torn Berlin, in Billy Wilder’s comedy-drama, A Foreign Affair: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2023/05/billy-wilders-adult-foreign-affair-1948.html

 

Jimmy Stewart was perfectly cast as the idealistic new senator, Jefferson Smith,
in 1939's Frank Capra classic comedy-drama, "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

‘The More the Merrier’ is Mostly Marvelous 1943

 

Joel McCrea & Jean Arthur play wartime lovebirds, with matchmaker
Charles Coburn in the middle, in 1943's "The More the Merrier."

A terrific trio of actors—Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, and Charles Coburn—play wonderfully with one another in The More the Merrier, a 1943 wartime comedy capitalizing on the Washington DC housing shortage.

George Stevens was a director of diverse genres before he went off to war: dramas, comedies, action, even an Astaire-Rogers musical. Stevens was a changed man after WWII, directing several documentaries regarding the war’s atrocities. Post-war, Stevens’ film output became sporadic, with subject matter that was always serious. Pre-war, Stevens directed several comedy-dramas, including the previous year's The Talk of the Town, with Arthur, Ronald Colman, and Cary Grant. Stevens' humanistic touch fully blossomed later in I Remember Mama and Shane, was evident even in his comedies, making their romantic aspects especially engaging.

Charles Coburn's Mr. Dingle cuts to the head of the line in Washington DC's
wartime housing shortage, in 1943's "The More the Merrier."

The tale of The More the Merrier is when Connie Milligan (Jean Arthur) feels it’s her patriotic duty to rent out half of her apartment. What she doesn't count on is aging alpha male Benjamin Dingle (Charles Coburn) charging his way in to her home and telling her that he's the new renter. Not even a day in, he then sublets his room to soldier Joe Carter (Joel McCrea), without consulting Connie. Mr. Dingle naturally plays matchmaker to these two young folk, so comedy and romance ensue. As written, I didn’t care for these introductory scenes with the pushy retiree, who wouldn’t have gotten past my front door.

I love old movies when the leading lady is putting on cold cream, all around her fully
 made-up face! Jean Arthur as Connie Milligan, in 1943's "The More the Merrier."

Let me say that I'm not a fan of slapstick, so the first half hour of The More the Merrier was excruciating for me. While it is expertly plotted and performed, the introduction of the three strong-willed characters clashing, complete with door slamming and misunderstandings, is hard to take if you're not fond of such antics.

Jean Arthur's Connie reacts to the sounds of her male roomies "bonding!"
From 1943's "The More the Merrier."

Let me also confess that I'm a bit allergic to the charms of Jean Arthur. Yes, I respect her as a talent, both adept in comedy and drama. Arthur's right up there with Carole Lombard as a supreme practitioner of screwball comedy. Her choice in films was superb and she aged beautifully onscreen. Born in 1900, she was at least a half a dozen years older than most of her contemporaries of the '30s and her career sailed along through the half of the '40s, and only ended by her choice. Given Jean Arthur's popularity and quality films, I was surprised that The More the Merrier was Arthur's only Oscar-nominated performance!

Jean Arthur's Connie unwinds by practicing her dance moves to some Latin music.
 From 1943's "The More the Merrier."

That said, I find Jean Arthur hard to take for the reason most people love her, that cartoon voice that goes right through my head. It’s the same reason I can't abide June Allyson, Judy Holliday, and Melanie Griffith. Their voices may be unique, but I find them irritating, especially with their matching personas. When Arthur plays officious types, like here and the post-war A Foreign Affair, she's too good at it, to the point of obnoxiousness. Luckily, the scripts of The More the Merrier and Billy Wilder's A Foreign Affair are three-dimensional enough to give her redeeming qualities. My aversion to Jean Arthur was the main reason that I’ve never watched The More the Merrier until this year. And I can now say that I’m glad I did!

Little does Jean Arthur's Connie know that new tenant Joel McCrea is got the
Latin groove, too! From George Stevens' "The More the Merrier."

I've had the impression that Joel McCrea, while very popular in his time, was considered a poor man's Gary Cooper in the film industry. While I have a soft spot for Coop, I find Joel McCrea's naturalistic, no-nonsense manner very appealing and modern. And he doesn't have that halting way of speaking like Cooper, who sometimes sounded like English wasn't his first language!

Here, Joel's soldier, who's only in DC for a week before being shipped out, is comically deadpan at first, but is soon affable toward Coburn's Mr. Dingle. And natch, it's love at first sight for practical soldier Joe and even more practical Connie, who has her whole life mapped out. 

Joel McCrea is in his prime here and there are several scenes of his showing off his fine tan form, which he wasn’t shy about in his heyday. Arthur is lovingly photographed, stylishly dressed, and looks most appealing. As Connie and Joe let down their mutual guard and fall in love, the movie really comes alive for me. 

Joel McCrea, tan and trim, as soldier Joe Carter, in 1943's "The More the Merrier."

Charles Coburn is at his most irascible as Mr. Dingle and he's wonderful. A top character actor of the era, Coburn could be just as great as a villain, like the incestuous uncle to Bette Davis’ vixen from In This Our Life or the cold doctor who needlessly amputates Ronald Reagan's legs in Kings Row. Or he could be highly amusing, such as the blustering Binky in Gentleman Prefer Blondes or here, as the meddling retiree in The More the Merrier. Coburn won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar as Mr. Dingle. 

Even Charles Coburn's Mr. Dingle gets in the dance spirit, in 1943's
"The More the Merrier."

After a first half hour of slapstick, it’s the Washington DC atmosphere, the stars’ tender romance, and funny supporting cast that make The More the Merrier truly enjoyable. The breakfast scene, where Connie and Joe not so subtly question each other, with unwanted interjections from Mr. Dingle, is sharply funny. The rooftop scene is my favorite, offering a charming war-time scene of various tenants relaxing and socializing. Connie knits and has her diary with her, while the two guys read a Dick Tracy cartoon strip to each other. Since Connie has a safe fiancee, she and Joe’s romancing is furtive. First, with the scene where they try to go on a non-date date, then their apartment stoop wooing, and ending with pillow talk through a bedroom wall—sweetly funny and genuinely romantic. The climatic cab scene, with all the characters concerned hashing things out is great fun. The only thing that mars the ending is Arthur's comically fake crying that is grating, only topped decades later by Diane Keaton breakup bawling in Something's Gotta Give.

I love this rooftop scene, with Connie, Mr. Dingle, and Joe hanging out with the
other tenants, in 1943's "The More the Merrier."

Yes, Connie has a dork boyfriend. And yes, Joe has to go on military assignment in Africa. By the finale, they marry and will wait for one another. The More the Merrier is a wartime fairytale, with everyone rubbing elbows and more, is great fun and depicted with genuine feeling, thanks to its great stars and director.

Jean Arthur's Connie & Joel McCrea's Joe, married at last, but not without a few
 minor hitches, in 1943's "The More the Merrier."

My look at Jean Arthur in a very similar role, in Billy Wilder’s post-war comedy/drama, A Foreign Affair: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2023/05/billy-wilders-adult-foreign-affair-1948.html

And here’s my take on Joel McCrea, just fine as Alfred Hitchcock’s Foreign Correspondent: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2025/01/hitchcocks-fine-foreign-correspondent.html

Another lovely scene from 1943's "The More the Merrier." Joe & Connie pour
their hearts out while in single beds, through a bedroom wall.
Joel McCrea & Jean Arthur make a fine romantic team here.

 

 

Billy Wilder’s Adult ‘A Foreign Affair’ 1948

 

Jean Arthur & Marlene Dietrich square off in Billy Wilder's post-war comedy-drama,
 1948's "A Foreign Affair."

Even for Billy Wilder, setting an adult comedy-drama like A Foreign Affair in the ruins of post-WWII Germany was pushing the envelope. Wilder shot most of the footage for this film in Berlin, a city in ruins, making it a most bleak backdrop. Billy's forte for balancing acerbic comedy mixed with adult drama miraculously works. Wilder’s humanity is clear beneath the surface cynicism over the spoils of post-war life. A Foreign Affair is a nearly flawless satiric comedy, unless you’re expecting the slapstick of Howard Hawks’ I Was a Male War Bride.

Love this foreign poster for Billy Wilder's 1948 "A Foreign Affair."

Wilder’s critics mistake his cynical attitude as uncaring. Billy may be a curmudgeon, but he does cares—very much so. Billy Wilder who served the US as a film maker during WWII, wanted to show what war had wrought.

Jean Arthur as Congresswoman Phoebe Frost, checking on the morale--and morals!--
of American soldiers in post-war Berlin, in Billy Wilder's "A Foreign Affair."

Jean Arthur plays the lone female member of a congressional committee sent to Berlin to check on the morale of U.S. soldiers. She soon finds it’s their morals that need to be held in check! John Lund’s Army captain plays both sides to the middle, getting his job done, while bending the rules to enjoy the spoils. One of these is Marlene Dietrich’s German nightclub singer, whom Lund lavishes with black market gifts for her favors. All three disparate characters undergo a change of heart and attitude during A Foreign Affair.

Could be just the timing, but Jean Arthur's body language looks less at ease than
Marlene Dietrich's, on the set of Billy Wilder's "A Foreign Affair."

It’s commendable that Billy Wilder cast two actresses he admired, despite even by the late 1940s, with divas in their late ‘40s, was more than a bit unusual. Leading man John Lund was a decade younger than both—usually such casting was the other way around!

Marlene Dietrich gets to use her seldom utilized flair for sardonic comedy as the cynical chanteuse Erika, whose side she is on is whoever’s in power. She is warm, sexy, complicated, pragmatic, and worldly. Marlene gets to warble three numbers by Friedrich Hollaender, which underline the action. “Black Market,” in particular, gives movie audiences a chance to observe Dietrich’s interpretation of a song that would make her a concert legend.

Billy Wilder watches as Marlene Dietrich's about to sing a number in "A Foreign Affair."

Jean Arthur makes her comedic last hurrah as the mid-west politician there to inspect morale. However, she gets caught up in some questionable morals herself! As Iowa-proud Phoebe Frost, Jean Arthur goes from comic perfectionist to a romantic whose steel trap mind slowly opens up for love. I’m not a die-hard fan of Jean Arthur’s eccentric persona by any means, but she was aces as a comedic actress who could segue into drama with ease.

Nothing escapes Jean Arthur's congresswoman, except that she's about to fall in love,
in 1948's "A Foreign Affair."

John Lund, as Captain John Pringle, was considered the weak link of A Foreign Affair’s romantic triangle. Paramount was then trying to give Lund the buildup, but it’s too bad Wilder hadn’t discovered William Holden yet, also a Paramount star. Also, Tyrone Power could have been quite good, as Ty and Marlene proved a decade later in Witness for the Prosecution. Wilder liked John Lund a great deal, thought while he was a solid actor, but correctly felt that Lund didn't have the star quality to hold up his end with these two dynamic divas. Especially since post-war, films were back to the male star dominating the show.

Marlene Dietrich & John Lund pose for publicity photos, in 1948's "A Foreign Affair."

Wilder was disappointed by the reception that A Foreign Affair received, but it got mostly good reviews, and it was a moderate box office hit, making around $150 million in today’s dollars. There are some biting lines by screenwriters Wilder and Charles Brackett about the spoils of war that still sting today. A Foreign Affair is intelligent, adult, with some memorable set pieces. 

Billy Wilder found Marlene Dietrich easy to get along with...
Jean Arthur, not so much! On the set of "A Foreign Affair."

Though two actresses couldn’t be more opposite, Jean Arthur and Marlene Dietrich shared some interesting similarities in their later careers, despite their essential differences.

Jean was a year older than Marlene. Arthur was born in October, 1900 and Dietrich was born in late December, 1901. While Marlene Dietrich moved heaven and earth to look eternally young her entire career, Arthur actually looked youthful her entire public life. Now, while Jean fretted about how she was photographed (Wilder was one of several who cited this) and she probably used wigs, tapes, and makeup tricks as well, Arthur always looked like “herself.” Whereas as time went by, Marlene's face looked like a glamorous mask of her former self, much like the latter day Cher. Off-camera photos of older Arthur shows some lines, but essentially looking like herself, much like Doris Day when she retired. Coincidentally, they both retired to Carmel—a showbiz Shangri-la? 

Jean Arthur looked amazing at 66 in her short-lived 1966 sitcom.

Arthur's insecurities resulted in her only acting intermittently from the mid-1940s on. Sadly, Jean dropped out of two stage classics, Born Yesterday and Peter Pan (though she did perform the latter briefly.) Typically, most film stars’ final movies or roles are reduced, yet Arthur had the biggest hit in her film finale, 1953’s Shane. Thereafter, she only acted before the camera on two TV shows, Gunsmoke, and The Jean Arthur Show, cancelled after 12 episodes. And Jean looked amazing at 66!

Marlene Dietrich segued from movie star to sequined concert star. Here she is,
at nearly 75, before a fall ended her performing career.

Marlene Dietrich's films became more infrequent after the war years, as well. However, there were some diamonds amongst the dross: Hitchcock’s Stage Fright, Wilder’s Witness for the Prosecution, and Stanley Kramer’s Judgment at Nuremberg. Along the way, Dietrich became a concert performer, giving her a whole new career. Marlene performed until 1975, when a final fall caused her to break a hip. 

Jean Arthur at 75, with Melvyn Douglas, on stage in "First Monday in October."

Both Jean and Marlene essentially retired after 1975. Arthur performed a handful of stage performances with Melvyn Douglas in First Monday in October. Marlene only made two more films after the '75 fall: a cameo in 1979's Just a Gigolo and then audio recordings by director Maximilian Schell for the 1984 documentary, Marlene. 

Marlene Dietrich, giving pesky paparazzi hell, in the early '70. Go, Marlene!

Though Marlene Dietrich enjoyed public life, Jean Arthur didn't. Yet both became reclusive the last years of their lives. When Marlene died, there was a huge funeral, attended by thousands of people in Germany. With Jean, at her request, there was no funeral. Jean Arthur died in 1991 at age 90. A year later, Marlene Dietrich died at the same age.

A Foreign Affair is an adult take on a movie love story, mixing clever comedy with heartfelt romance, with a smart view on life after war.

Here’s my take on Jean Arthur’s last film, the western classic Shane:

https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2018/04/shane-1953.html

Here’s my look at one of Marlene Dietrich’s final films, Billy Wilder’s all-star courtroom mystery, Witness for the Prosecution:

https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2020/11/witness-for-prosecution-1957.html

 

The cinematic triangle of Billy Wilder's "A Foreign Affair": Marlene Dietrich,
John Lund, & Jean Arthur.

 

 

'Shane' Still a Stunner 1953

'Shane' and 'High Noon' were Hollywood's first modern westerns.

I never watched 1953’s Shane all these years because I thought it was just a typical Hollywood western. Well, George Stevens’ Shane is “just a western” about as much as his A Place in the Sun is just a romance or Giant is just another epic. Director Stevens gave depth to movie genres in his honest look at the American way of life.

I just saw Shane for the first time during a snowy spring break in Upper Michigan. My Mom couldn’t believe I’d never seen one of movie’s most famous westerns, so we watched Shane together. I was knocked out the imaginative storytelling, memorable scenes, stellar cast, authentic location shooting, and the realistic attitude about how the west was really won.

Joey: Why don't you ever wear your six-shooter, Shane?

Shane: Well, I guess I don't see as many bad men as you do.

Alan Ladd in his signature role as the reluctant gunslinger, Shane.

The simple story, but with complex storytelling, was inspired by the infamous Johnson County War in 1892, when rich ranchers tried to run off homesteaders with the help of guns for hire. Adapted from Jack Schaefer’s popular novel, Shane is a gunfighter trying to escape his past. He comes upon the Starretts, a farming family who could use a hired hand. Not only are there chores to be done, a domineering cattle rancher named Rufus Ryker wants the Starretts and other homesteaders out of his way. Joe Starrett staunchly believes that he and his fellow farmers have a right to their claims. Starrett soon admires the strong, silent Shane, as does his wife Marian, and son Joey. Shane goes out of his way not to be goaded into fighting, but as the Ryker clan escalates their efforts to drive out the farmers, this inevitably leads to the climatic gunfight.

The Starret family live up to their name, while Shane strikes a pose.

Joe Starrett: Who is Ruf Ryker or anyone else to run us away from our own homes? He only wants to grow his beef and what we want to grow up is families, to grow 'em good and grow 'em, grow 'em up strong, the way they was meant to be grown. God didn't make all this country just for one man like Ryker.

Methodical director George Stevens with his reams of film footage.

The myth that a financially fragile Paramount Pictures nearly shelved director Stevens’ Shane is absurd. Even George Stevens, Jr. has repeated this anecdote, but then, Hollywood loves these ironic anecdotes. According to Ultimate Movie Rankings, Paramount Pictures had 8 of the top 20 grossing movies of 1952, what with their comic goldmines Martin and Lewis, and the still popular Hope and Crosby. Not to mention Paramount had the #1 blockbuster of ’52, The Greatest Show on Earth. Here are Paramount’s top 20 domestic box office figures for ‘52: The Greatest Show on Earth, 32.9 million; Sailors Beware, 11.9; Jumping Jacks, 11.1; The Stooge, 9.7; Come Back Little Sheba, 9.7; Son of Paleface, 9.4; Road to Bali, 8.3; and Just for You, 8.3. Adjusted for today's dollars, this would total well over a billion dollars in grosses, not including foreign grosses. 

While Shane was shooting in the fall of ‘51, the same studio released Stevens' A Place in the Sun, a critical and commercial smash. While he was up to his elbows in pruning the fruits of his four month Shane shoot in early 1952, George Stevens won his first best director Oscar for Sun. It's highly unlikely that Paramount would then shelve their golden boy's latest movie. Stevens was famous for his long filming schedules, with footage shot from every conceivable angle, which would then take him anywhere from one to two years to edit. George Stevens Junior once said that his father’s movies were really made in the editing room.

Another hold up was when Paramount decided that Shane would be their first widescreen film, though it was filmed in the standard smaller screen ratio. Then they decided to add Stereophonic sound to complement the big screen ratio. There was no way they were going to sit on or dump Shane. “Did you know Shane was shelved at first?” makes a good Hollywood story. Just as how The Wizard of Oz and It’s a Wonderful Life were supposedly flops when first released, these stories take on a life of their own.

Alan Ladd's Shane has had just about enough of bad guy Ben Johnson!

Ed Howells: This Wilson, would you know him, Shane? If you saw him?

Shane: Maybe. If it is Wilson, he's fast on the draw, so be careful.

Howells: You seem to know a lot about this kind of business, Shane. I don't want no part of gunslinging. Murder's a better name.

Shane manages to be naturalistic and mythic at the same time—and this fits the talents of Alan Ladd perfectly. I had never seen any Ladd films prior, except for his last film, The Carpetbaggers. As world weary cowboy star Nevada Smith, Alan Ladd was the best thing about the shallow Hollywood soap opera. 

As Shane, Alan Ladd is low-key but strong, never overacting or falling back on mannerisms. The Paramount star, in his last film under contract, is totally natural and magnetic. Alan Ladd also possessed a wonderfully resonant speaking voice, like other iconic actors of the time: Gregory Peck, William Holden, Rock Hudson, etc.

Alan Ladd was a contemporary of Tyrone Power, they were a year apart. While 20^th Century Fox treated Ty like a prince in comparison to Paramount and Ladd, Power also felt insecure that he was regarded as just a pretty face. While neither were Laurence Olivier, I think both Ladd and Power were underrated by critics of the era. With Shane, you see what Ladd could do, with great material and director.

Shane: Yeah, you've lived too long. Your kind of days are over.

Ryker: My days! What about yours, gunfighter?

Shane: The difference is I know it.

Shane, the gunslinger who tried to go straight.

Much has been made of the fact that Alan Ladd was short, especially opposite tall leading ladies or villains. Well, you know what? A lot of actors were short back then—and still are today! Back in Alan Ladd's era, three of the shortest male stars had larger than life personas at Warner Brothers: Bogart, Cagney and Edward G. Robinson. The difference was these guys were not your typical movie stars, yet comfortable in their own skins. Later, Dustin Hoffman and Al Pacino continued that tradition. Short action heroes Cruise and Stallone came later. When Robert Redford broke through in the ‘70s, his height was actually the basis of a magazine article! And Patrick Swayze, who plays sort of a bouncer version of Shane in Roadhouse, takes a lot of wisecracks for his short, slim appearance from the small town’s bad guys.

Ladd was 5'5", as if that made him less masculine. My Dad was also 5’5”—and he was not to be messed with. When I was in 7^th grade, an older boy walked up to me one lunch hour. He asked if Dick Gould was my old man. I nodded yes.

The clean-cut kid smirked and said, “I’ve seen him around. He’s just a sawed-off cowboy, isn’t he?”

My dad and his equally short brothers’ reputations were pretty well-known in my hometown, so I boldly replied, “The next time you see him, why don’t you tell him that?”

The boy stared at me a moment, then walked away!

I guess that generalization makes Ladd a sawed-off cowboy, too. Yet, with his almost animal-like stare and stillness, Ladd’s totally believable as a bad ass in Shane.

Alan Ladd may have been slight in build, but still every inch the star!

Joe Starrett (to rancher Ryker): I'm not belittlin' what you and the others did. At the same time, you didn't find this country. There were trappers here and Indian traders long before you showed up and they tamed this country more than you did.

Ryker: They weren't ranchers.

Joe: You talk about rights. You think you've got the right to say that nobody else has got any. Well, that ain't the way the government looks at it.

Van Heflin, the perfect everyman, as the simple farmer who stands up to the cattlemen.

Van Heflin, that great star character actor, is likeable and believable as the decent farmer family man. Heflin’s Starrett is ahead of his time as a movie male who is secure with his wife’s crush on the hero. Jean Arthur was one of director Stevens favorite actresses, so he chose her as the farmer’s wife, Marion. Arthur is one of film's all-time delightful comediennes, who could also play drama. However, Arthur’s uniquely squeaky voice, especially during the film’s climatic moments, undercuts her credibility in trying to stop the impending violence. Also, Arthur at 50 and Heflin, 43, are bit long in the tooth as a pioneer couple with a small boy, and celebrating their 10^th wedding anniversary. As their son, Joey, movie fans seem to either love or loathe Brandon De Wilde’s performance. I found De Wilde better than most child actors of the era, though I think his Joey is used to telegraph the film’s underlying story a bit too much.

Jean Arthur, as the farmer's wife, Marion, who hates violence and loves Shane.

Marion: Guns aren't going to be my boy's life.

Shane: A gun is a tool, Marion. No better and no worse than any other tool—an axe, a shovel, or anything. A gun is as good or as bad as the man using it. Remember that.

Marion: We'd all be much better off if there wasn't a single gun left in this valley—including yours.

Jack Palance, the man whose mug launched a 1,000 nightmares, as Wilson, the gunslinger with an evil grin.

Shane has a stellar supporting cast. Jack Palance has a small but vivid role as the ranchers' smiling gunslinger, Jack Wilson. A young Ben Johnson is intense as Chris Calloway, one of Ryker’s ranch hands. This is a rare bad guy role for Johnson—though Chris redeems himself near the film’s climax. Also, did you know that Johnson was originally a rodeo cowboy and stunt man? Emile Meyer is memorable as the firebrand ranch baron, fierce and pathetic at the same time. Elisha Cook, Jr. was born to play Stonewall, the spooked would-be tough guy.

Shane happens to feature some of TV’s future classic familiar faces, like Ellen Corby (Grandma Walton!), Nancy Kulp (Jane Hathaway!), and Edgar Buchanan (Uncle Joe!).

Alan Ladd and Van Heflin as the gunfighter and the homesteader in 'Shane.'

The extensive location shooting in Jackson Hole, Wyoming is superb, with the Grand Tetons prominent in the background. Cinematographer Loyal Griggs couldn’t have been thrilled to see his work shaved from the top and bottom to appear widescreen. Perhaps the Oscar he won for Shane helped ease the pain. Today, revivals and DVDs of Shane are rightfully shown in its original ratio.

Director Stevens didn’t want the typical backlot/soundstage western look for Shane. Stevens had the characters’ homes and makeshift town constructed on location and the characters looked more sweaty than spiffy. That same realistic attitude is true with the film’s attitude toward bar brawls and gun violence. People are left with bruises after fights and lost lives leave bereaved family members bereft.

Shane: I gotta be goin' on.

Joey: Why, Shane?

Shane: A man has to be what he is, Joey. You can't break the mold. I tried it and it didn't work for me.

Joey: We want you, Shane.

Shane: Joey, there's no living with, with a killing. There's no going back from it. Right or wrong, it's a brand, a brand that sticks. There's no going back. Now you run on home to your mother and tell her, tell her everything's alright, and there aren't any more guns in the valley.

Don't believe the bullshit stories that 'Shane' was shelved. This was director
George Stevens' follow-up to 'A Place in the Sun.' 

George Stevens, always a socially conscious movie maker, was changed by his time in WWII. Stevens’ film unit captured the landing at Normandy, the liberation of Paris, and freeing the Dachau concentration camp. Stevens didn’t come back to Hollywood, just looking for a hit to put him back on top. George Stevens made several war documentaries, some of which were used at the Nuremberg trials. And when he did return to commercial filmmaking, George Stevens was more interested in what was going on in the world than just recycling Hollywood clichés. Even when working in the western genre, Stevens’ big fight scene were punctuated by huge close ups and excruciatingly timed punches, so audiences felt beaten and weary by the fight, too. The gunfight scenes were one of the first in film to use wires to jerk the performers back, mimicking the impact of a gunshot. Stevens wanted to show the effects of violence as well as the dilemma over the use of force.

George Stevens was a masterful storyteller, using powerful imagery and truth in his films. I knew of Shane’s famous ending, but I was overwhelmed when I watched for the first time. The finale is truly memorable, and Shane is still a classic.

Shane says his goodbyes to Little Joey.

Joey: Shane, you’re hurt!

Shane: I'm alright, Joey. You go home to your mother and your father. And grow up to be strong and straight. And Joey, take care of them, both of them.

Joey: Yes, Shane. [Tears well up in Joey's eyes] He'd never have been able to shoot you - if you'd have seen him.

Shane: Bye, little Joe.

Joey: He never even would have cleared the holster, would he, Shane? [calls after him] Pa's got things for you to do, and Mother wants you. I know she does. Shane! Shane! Come back!

Shane! Shane! Come back! Better have a few tissues handy!