Copyright © 2000 by Michael
Segers, All rights reserved
Will Kane - Gary Cooper
Harvey Pell - Lloyd Bridges
Helen Ramirez - Katy Jurado
Amy Kane - Grace Kelly
Martin Howe – Lon Chaney, Jr.
Sam Fuller - Harry Morgan
Jack Colby – Lee Van Cleef
Directed
by Fred Zinnemann
Unfortunately, you won’t find this little jewel on
any of the screens at your unfriendly local megaplex, because it was released in
1952. But, you can catch if periodically on cable (as I recently did) and on
video. For many reasons, this is a good time to return to this masterpiece.
OK, already, it’s a western. But, you can no more
dismiss this as an "oater" than you can dismiss a film that involves
automobiles as a "gasser." Recently asked for a list of my favorite
films, I included two westerns, but not this one. The two I chose, Destry
Rides Again and Stagecoach, are perhaps nearer to the stereotypical
western, complete with barroom brawls and mad chases. High Noon is almost
a Greek tragedy played in wide brimmed hats, with a starkness, almost a
bleakness, that is not what most people expect in a western.
The film, which runs eighty-five minutes, covers
somewhat less than two hours in a Sunday morning in the little town of
Hadleyville. In a year in which several self-indulgent films have sprawled to
more than double the length of High Noon, there is a lesson to be learned
from this tightly disciplined film. More is not more.
The film begins with a wedding (the traditional
ending for a comedy), between Marshal Will Kane (Cooper) and his Quaker
sweetheart (Kelly), for whose sake he is trading in his gun and badge for a new
life in a new town. By the way, there is a twenty-eight year difference in ages
between Kelly and Cooper, so if anyone is planning a remake, how about Michael
Douglas and his fiancée, Catharine Zeta-Jones, twenty-five years younger?
But the paths of true love and heroes’ plans never
run smoothly. Kane learns that a killer whom he had arrested has been released
and is arriving on the noon train to get even. This killer is bigger and badder
than life—an eschatological symbol of evil. Kane returns to duty and begins
searching for deputies.
In a hot little town on Sunday morning, however,
it’s hard to find anyone who will stand up to an eschatological symbol. For
such a short film, covering such a short time, the film has almost leisurely
stretches as Kane rambles around town, looking for support. There are some
ironic cuts between the church and the saloon, with nary a hero in sight, but
with so many of those character-filled faces that fill out the corners of so
many westerns.
Is Kane a good guy, or what? When the bad guys trap
him in the livery stable and try to burn him out, he unties the horses before
looking after his own safety. (Gee, where is a white hat when you need one?)
With everyone in town hiding, with every door slammed
wide shut, Kane faces four gunfighters and destiny. The saloonkeeper has spoken,
and so has the preacher. In fact, there are almost a few too many words spoken,
as the townspeople try to explain why they will not stand by their marshal.
The film is almost as insubstantial as a haiku, as
substantial as a haiku—a moment frozen in time by an artistry so subtle that
the work seems artless. There is almost no plot, and Cooper seems almost not to
be acting (but he did win a Best Actor Oscar ® for this performance). The film
is sustained by the inexorable passage of time, with frequent glimpses of
various clocks. Aristotle would have called this unity of time; in a film, we
call it a brilliant innovation. There is nothing new on the videocassettes.
This is one of the best but in some ways most
unlikely of westerns. It is almost a cold fish (on a horse?), odd for a genre
known for passion, humor… and violence. No political correctness here, but
there is a lot of political uncertainty here, especially considering the
paranoid political atmosphere of the early fifties.
The best way to enrich your experience of new films
is to return to the true masterpieces of film like this, films which almost
fifty years later still set a standard against which to measure small and great.
What a paradox that eight-five minutes can be so much larger in impact, meaning,
and fullness than several films in excess of three hours.
For an amazing article on High Noon, which
will take you till almost high midnight to complete, go to:
This is part of "The Greatest Films," a
starting point for learning about great American films:
Till next time, always wear a white hat, keep your feet dry, and your heart full of thoughts as noble as Marshal Kane. You may never go back to the megaplex again.
The Rovin' and Ravin' Film Reviews