Verfluchtes Land

Beneath the somewhat awkward narrative lies an affecting spiritual parable, about hate and redemption. The hatred Matt (Wayne) and his aunt Mollie (Bondi) have towards Matt's dead father is poisoning their lives and those lives around them. Never mind that they don't know the details surrounding the father's absence while Matt's mother and Mollie's sister dies alone and unattended. Now Matt has sworn a blood oath to kill his father whom he's surprisingly never seen, having been adopted instead into Mollie's family. Meanwhile, Mollie spews venom around her household that's affected her husband and everyone else.

Then, into this backwoods den arrives a mysterious stranger Howitt (Carey) with a load of money and city ways. He doesn't preach any kind of redeeming sermon. Instead, he selflessly ministers to the sick, puts moonshiners to work at a better wage, and buys Matt's now abandoned cabin site for an outlandish price. He's got "good man" written all over him. In short, he's a transformative figure to all but Mollie and Matt who persist in their poisonous grudge.

It's easy to see Howitt as a religious symbol though the movie's spirituality is pretty much limited to revealing beams of sunlight from above. (Rather surprisingly, no mention is made of biblical religion among Ozark folks known for their literalist beliefs.)

But, to me, the real spiritual symbol is the apparent simpleton, Pete (Lawrence), one of Mollie's sons. The story is that he was normal until a bolt of lightning struck him at the same time Matt's mother died. Now, I suspect the story and its timing suggest some kind of mysterious passage from dying mother to nephew Pete. It appears, however, to be a curse on Pete, since from then on he behaves like a grunting primitive, unable to speak coherently.

But consider two things. It's Pete's fateful struggle with Mollie, his mother, that finally forces her to consider the error of her ways, something not even Howitt has been able to achieve. Second, is the movie's central scene, at least in my little book. That's the powerfully moving shot of Pete alone and wordlessly picking at motes amid a glowing beam of sunlight through a small window. The message seems clear. Pete alone is in contact with something more ethereal than the Ozarks and moonshine or even Howitt. Whatever that communion is must remain both symbolic and mysterious. I also expect it's no accident that the movie cast the darkly colored Mark Lawrence in the role since he looks nothing like the rest of Mollie's family.

Now, I'm neither particularly religious nor spiritual. But I do appreciate this aspect of the film, which I believe is both intelligently and artistically implied.

The movie itself is a photogenic marvel as others point out. The colors are so lush I hardly recognized the Big Bear locations, where as an LA resident, I used to hike. Moreover, I really like the way the movie refuses to glamorize the casting of Sammy, the ingénue. Betty Field is perfect for the part, with her average looks but uncommon liveliness. She injects real spark into the proceedings. Carey too is well chosen. With his easy smile and affable manner, he wins us over quickly, making his showdown in the meadow with Matt something of a shocker. Somehow, it's odd seeing Wayne without a cowboy hat and with his real hair. Still, he's fine in the part, showing why he's generally underrated as an actor. I guess my only complaint is with Bondi who spreads the bile on pretty thickly. Then again, maybe that's what it takes in a family with a bunch of strapping roughnecks.

All in all, the movie's something of a sleeper, even though it never made it into Wayne's canon of classics, probably because Wayne is not the central character, despite the poster depiction. Too bad. Because both the story and the visuals deserve to be better known, inasmuch as the humane message remains as enduring now as it was then.

Rural drama quite mellow, but well done, helped by a good casting. Betty Field at maybe her best performance at movies pictures; John Wayne at his first film in color after the grandiose The Stagecoach; Harry Carey in the Priest; Beulah Bondi at one of her characteristic works playing an embittered woman; the very used by master John Ford, War Bond. And, last but not least, an splendid photography in wonderful Technicolor. I though it was a western and I find instead a strange community making whisky clandestinely at Ozark Mountains Region, Arkansas,who remind me some people I meet in a trip to North of England, near Kyle of Lochals, very reluctant to contact with foreigns. I like the 80% of the film, that was made with conviction, professionalism and care by excellent craftsman Henry Hathaway. It is is a bite too much melodramatic and out of date, but interesting. I give it an seven.

This is an overlooked John Wayne movie ,as well as an overlooked Hathaway's -who in his long career produced more great or good movies than wretched ones :"Peter Ibbetson" is one of the most beautiful romantic movies I know,"lives of a Bengal lancer is adventures movie quintessence and "Niagara" remains one of Marilyn Monroe's best films ,to name but three.

John Wayne is cast against type in "the shepherd" ;he is not really the he-man but a frail human being ,born under a bad sign , with a curse hanging over him .The characters and the atmosphere are not unlike those of "the trail of the lonesome pine" which Hathaway made five years earlier ,with the same wonderful color.

Some scenes are admirable:when Wayne 's old man enters the room of the old home,he feels a presence in the room : the furniture, the things ,everything reminds him of the woman he's never stopped loving (he is as romantic as Peter Ibbetson!).Another memorable scene shows the old man and his son fishing in the river :watch closely and you'll hear a ravaged tale ;the gentler side of the movie hides real fury (and Hathaway does not indulge himself a flashback of the stormy fateful night).

Actually,John Wayne 's character is not so much bitter as wistful and it's one of the actors' best performances;but it's all the cast that should be praised .Add it to your Hathaway list.

A marvelous, if little known, early John Wayne film. There are so many wonderful moments in this film that I can only list a few: Harry Carey splendid as the mysterious man who comes to the Ozarks to purchase a piece of dirt land and settle down, and ends up purchasing Moanin' Meadow. A gorgeous, seamless, seemingly effortless piece of acting.

Betty Field, always in bare feet saying that she nearly stepped in a cloud and reveling in the mud between her bare toes.

Marc Lawrence trying to catch dust motes in a sunbeam coming through a dirty windowpane.

Beulah Bondi making a circle of candles and lamp oil!!

Marjorie Main seeing for the first time in her life.

And John Wayne moving from bewildered and embittered young man with a curse on him, to a man in love who can't express his feeling because of the curse, and finally coming to terms with his real, inner self for the first time in his life.

Anyone who thinks John Wayne could not act, should see The Shepherd of the Hills. He is not only beautiful to look at, but he brings charm, power and sympathy to a very difficult role.

The Henry Hathaway-directed 1941 Shepherd Of the Hills is worth seeing if for nothing else its color, which is as glorious and gorgeous as one will find in a film. Each outdoor shot is like a landscape painting. Along with Gone With the Wind and The Four Feathers, this is the finest use of color I have seen in a movie, and it should be used as a textbook on how to shoot a film in color. Otherwise, the picture is just a pleasing and old-fashioned revenge tale, adapted from a now forgotten novel, and set in the Ozark Mountains at about the turn of the twentieth century. It is nicely written in the idiom of the mountain folk, and features John Wayne in an early, rare non-western role, which he handles proficiently. Betty Field is his spunky love interest in what would now be an Amy Madigan part. Miss Field is lovely in a non-conventional way; she shines as never before or since. The combination of her quiet, almost mousy beauty in an otherwise talky, assertive role is fascinating to watch. Also on hand are Beulah Bondi, Ward Bond, Marc Lawrence, who gives an amazing performance, and Harry Carey, whose pleasantness and plainness I find tiring, though I suppose he's well-cast. There's a ritualistic feeling to the film, with its clearly defined notions of good and evil, the almost formally informal dialect the characters use, the leisurely, strolling pace by which the story unfolds, all contribute to its pastoral quality. The chief problem is that there's no suspense. One senses early on how the thing is going to end, and the characters behave as one would expect.