Ah, yes. "Johnny Guitar." A nifty piece that takes us back to the late 1800s frontier, where men were men...and so were the women.
"Johnny Guitar" is a staunch feminist oater that has gone the cult route over the years -- a decidedly offbeat, revisionist western, if you will. But after seeing this strange bird again recently, I regret to say it doesn't fly as well as it use to.
Directed by Nicholas ("Rebel Without a Cause") Ray, it goes way off the beaten path compared to the typically rugged Republic Studio releases that were dished out back in the early 50s. Those dusty programmers were uncomplicated, assembly-line productions that served the public's hunger at the time. We knew who the good guys were (Gene Autry, Roy Rogers), while the black-hatted bad guys were your standard gunslingers, stagecoach robbers, land-grabbers and cattle thieves. The prairie flowers, sweet and mighty "purrrdy," were as dependable as, well, the faithful horse. They were usually seen waitin' by the hitchin' post for their man to come home a hero. And then along comes "Johnny Guitar."
It starts off familiar enough. You've got the brawny, handsome, laconic, quick-on-the-draw type (Sterling Hayden) with the standard fearful moniker ("Johnny Logan,") who has mended his trigger-happy ways (now "Johnny Guitar"). Typically enough he is riding into town to protect his own "prairie flower" (Joan Crawford) from impending danger. O.K. So far, so good. But then, everything starts feeling a little weird. Suddenly, all the Stetson-wearing heroes and gunslingers sorta go and take a backseat to the prairie flowers! They kinda shrink in their boots. I mean it's called "Johnny Guitar", isn't it? So what's this all about?
Vienna, as played by Crawford, is a shrewd businesswoman and former saloon hussy who sets up a fancy gambling joint of her own on the border of a small Arizona town just as a railroad is being put in, ensuring a booming business. She hires a former paramour (Hayden) to protect her from the town's dissidents who don't welcome her or her establishment.
A stage robbery and murder has the "decent" folks up in arms and they, instigated by a tiny-framed, harsh-faced, hell-raiser named Emma Small (Mercedes McCambridge), are ready to pin it on those they despise most. The "Dancin' Kid" (Scott Brady), who happens to be Vienna's kinda sorta casual boyfriend, and his gang conveniently get the blame and are ordered out of town. Disgruntled, the Dancin' Kid and his gang retaliate by robbing the central bank. They head for the hills but get trapped because of some dynamiting going on for the railroad. The pernicious Emma, who supposedly has a hankering for the Kid, would rather see him dead than with Vienna, so she rounds up a posse to go not only after him and his gang, but Vienna (who she handily accuses of conspiracy), lynching and committing arson along the way with a maniacal glint in her eye.
Brimming with McCarthy-like symbolism (it was made in 1954) and laced with unintentional lesbian overtones, "Johnny Guitar" finally cashes in its chips with the hotly anticipated, gun-toting, all-woman finale. But it has a long way to go to get there and there is enough meandering and dull stretches to really test one's patience.
As vigorous a presence as Joan Crawford may be, it's hard to root for her as a heroine. She comes off so imposing (more so than any of the men in the movie, including Ernest Borgnine!), that when she tries to pull the "dainty, helpless" routine, one can only smile weakly. Her outfits are VERY Freudian in this picture and her line-readings are exactly that, line-readings -- calculated, unrealistic and old-style theater. Thankfully, she's got Mercedes McCambridge around to ignite her scenes and the scenes of those around her. McCambridge, who won a supporting Oscar a few years prior to this and may best be remembered as Linda Blair's demonic voice in "The Exorcist," tears into her role with an unholy, unbridled vengeance! In fact, the two crop-haired "prairie flowers", both of whom could wear plaid shirts very comfortably in this film, have the best chemistry of all Joan's pairings in the movie!
"Johnny Guitar" is definitely a curio item and certainly worth a gander just to see what all the buzz has been about. See if you can stay with it but just don't try to read into it that much. It's not worth the brain power.
P.S.: That's Peggy Lee singing the title tune.
"Johnny Guitar" is a staunch feminist oater that has gone the cult route over the years -- a decidedly offbeat, revisionist western, if you will. But after seeing this strange bird again recently, I regret to say it doesn't fly as well as it use to.
Directed by Nicholas ("Rebel Without a Cause") Ray, it goes way off the beaten path compared to the typically rugged Republic Studio releases that were dished out back in the early 50s. Those dusty programmers were uncomplicated, assembly-line productions that served the public's hunger at the time. We knew who the good guys were (Gene Autry, Roy Rogers), while the black-hatted bad guys were your standard gunslingers, stagecoach robbers, land-grabbers and cattle thieves. The prairie flowers, sweet and mighty "purrrdy," were as dependable as, well, the faithful horse. They were usually seen waitin' by the hitchin' post for their man to come home a hero. And then along comes "Johnny Guitar."
It starts off familiar enough. You've got the brawny, handsome, laconic, quick-on-the-draw type (Sterling Hayden) with the standard fearful moniker ("Johnny Logan,") who has mended his trigger-happy ways (now "Johnny Guitar"). Typically enough he is riding into town to protect his own "prairie flower" (Joan Crawford) from impending danger. O.K. So far, so good. But then, everything starts feeling a little weird. Suddenly, all the Stetson-wearing heroes and gunslingers sorta go and take a backseat to the prairie flowers! They kinda shrink in their boots. I mean it's called "Johnny Guitar", isn't it? So what's this all about?
Vienna, as played by Crawford, is a shrewd businesswoman and former saloon hussy who sets up a fancy gambling joint of her own on the border of a small Arizona town just as a railroad is being put in, ensuring a booming business. She hires a former paramour (Hayden) to protect her from the town's dissidents who don't welcome her or her establishment.
A stage robbery and murder has the "decent" folks up in arms and they, instigated by a tiny-framed, harsh-faced, hell-raiser named Emma Small (Mercedes McCambridge), are ready to pin it on those they despise most. The "Dancin' Kid" (Scott Brady), who happens to be Vienna's kinda sorta casual boyfriend, and his gang conveniently get the blame and are ordered out of town. Disgruntled, the Dancin' Kid and his gang retaliate by robbing the central bank. They head for the hills but get trapped because of some dynamiting going on for the railroad. The pernicious Emma, who supposedly has a hankering for the Kid, would rather see him dead than with Vienna, so she rounds up a posse to go not only after him and his gang, but Vienna (who she handily accuses of conspiracy), lynching and committing arson along the way with a maniacal glint in her eye.
Brimming with McCarthy-like symbolism (it was made in 1954) and laced with unintentional lesbian overtones, "Johnny Guitar" finally cashes in its chips with the hotly anticipated, gun-toting, all-woman finale. But it has a long way to go to get there and there is enough meandering and dull stretches to really test one's patience.
As vigorous a presence as Joan Crawford may be, it's hard to root for her as a heroine. She comes off so imposing (more so than any of the men in the movie, including Ernest Borgnine!), that when she tries to pull the "dainty, helpless" routine, one can only smile weakly. Her outfits are VERY Freudian in this picture and her line-readings are exactly that, line-readings -- calculated, unrealistic and old-style theater. Thankfully, she's got Mercedes McCambridge around to ignite her scenes and the scenes of those around her. McCambridge, who won a supporting Oscar a few years prior to this and may best be remembered as Linda Blair's demonic voice in "The Exorcist," tears into her role with an unholy, unbridled vengeance! In fact, the two crop-haired "prairie flowers", both of whom could wear plaid shirts very comfortably in this film, have the best chemistry of all Joan's pairings in the movie!
"Johnny Guitar" is definitely a curio item and certainly worth a gander just to see what all the buzz has been about. See if you can stay with it but just don't try to read into it that much. It's not worth the brain power.
P.S.: That's Peggy Lee singing the title tune.