The Squaw Man

This story is a bit hard to swallow. A British noble leaves England to save the family name - his cousin, actually - who has embezzled and bankrupted the family fortune, leaving the woman he loves (who is married to the embezzler). He then turns up as a rancher in Texas (honest, I'm not making this up), takes up with an Indian girl who bears him a son. Seven years later, the embezzler dies but confesses, freeing the benighted couple to marry, she in England and he in Texas. Think you can go with it? Well, I couldn't, but the principals are so in earnest and the mood so solemn that you give it a break - a rating of six, to be exact.

I am into acting performances and this picture has many good ones; Warner Baxter (extremely in earnest), Eleanor Boardman and Roland Young (somewhat in earnest) and Lupe Velez, who really doesn't fit and, to my mind, nearly sinks the picture with a catatonic performance. She got better in the "Mexican Spitfire" series in the 40's. As I say, the preposterous plot is played with a straight face, so I gave this head-scratcher the benefit of the doubt.

... courtesy of MGM. Warner Baxter stars as English gentleman Jim Wingate. He's in love with Lady Diana Kerhill (Eleanor Boardman), only Diana is the wife of Jim's cousin Henry (Paul Cavanaugh). When Henry steals some pensioner funds, and the theft is discovered, Jim gets the blame. Instead of clearing his name, he heads to the US, where he changes his name and becomes a cattle rancher out West. His problems are just beginning though, as fiendish rival rancher Cash Hawkins (Charles Bickford) wants Jim's land, and local native girl Naturich (Lupe Velez) falls in love with Jim. Will Jim return her affection and risk being called a "squaw man" by the other townsfolk?

I'm not sure why DeMille was so enamored of this story, but the audiences of the day apparently weren't, as this proved to be a costly failure at the box office. Baxter, with his pencil mustache and greasy hair, doesn't sound or act British, nor does he seem to fit in the Western setting. Velez, as pretty as ever, and getting a titillating scene where she undresses before an embarrassed Baxter, also has professional-grade movie makeup in most scenes, which is not quite the look of a poor native woman. Most of the film isn't actively awful, really, just unexceptional.

It was three and out for DeMille at MGM - the experimental sound film Dynamite, the bizarre precode musical Madam Satan, and finally back to basics with The Squaw Man. Fired from MGM, he took a cruise to decide what to do next, and went back home to Paramount for the rest of his career. He had started out there, and except for his brief stint as an independent filmmaker and then as a director at MGM, it really was his cinematic home.

Considering that this film was made in 1931, it sure looks more like a silent film with words rather than a more modern looking film. In 1931 we had films like "Frankenstein", "Cimarron", "Mata Hari", "City Lights", "Dracula", "M", "Public Enemy", "Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde", and "Monkey Business". All of these films had better acting, camera work and better use of sound, and they all had a more modern script. "The Squaw Man" was the third filming of the play, all of them by Cecil B. DeMille. The play was written in 1905 and starred future famous silent film cowboy William S. Hart. It ran for nearly a year and was revived several times, then spawned a novel. But all 3 versions held steady to the Victorian plot, and even by 1931 it seems dated.

Lupe Vélez proves that a Mexican playing a Native American of the United States isn't necessarily any less insulting than a white American taking the part. Here, Vélez doesn't even dress the part--wearing traditional Mexican clothes. To a degree, I would overlook the racism inherit in "The Squaw Man" melodrama--cloaked in the selling point of miscegenation--if there were anything more to the picture. Cecil B. DeMille was shot at while making the 1914 version of the hackneyed stage soap opera, and this time he lost his job. If anyone finds the 1918 version, I'll pass. Why did DeMille bother? In 1914, he was learning the craft; by 1931, he was a competent filmmaker, who had since surrendered his ambitions for artistic innovation in favor of lowbrow commercialism. I suppose, then, that it made sense for DeMille to try a talkie remake of his first box-office success. The plot is slightly more coherent this outing, but remains very contrived. The acting and dialogue are atrocious.

(There's also a scene where Vélez undresses.)

As all film buffs know Cecil B. DeMille's first version of The Squaw Man was the very first film done in what we now call Hollywood. He did a second silent version and for his third film on his MGM hiatus from Paramount he did it once again.

Third time was not the charm. Although the actors, especially Warner Baxter as the disgraced English Earl who goes to the American west and meets, weds, and beds an Indian maiden, Lupe Velez are competent and sincere the film is terribly dated. Depression audiences simply were not interested in a Victorian morality tale with a dose of the British stiff upper lip.

It all sounds so quaint and ridiculous. Baxter is accused of embezzlement and he knows who the culprit is, but won't inform because he doesn't want to disgrace the other guy's family. So with admirable rectitude he heads west and make a new life in America.

He also manages to make an enemy of Charles Bickford who was another rancher who covets his land. But Baxter finds love with Lupe, as did most of Hollywood in real life, and he has a son who will in fact inherit his title.

Cecil B. DeMille was a child of his time. Melodramas like The Squaw Man was the stuff that the legitimate theater did when he grew up and learned his trade from David Belasco.

But audiences weren't buying it in 1931, people had real issues about where the next meal was coming from and could they find work. A story about some Victorian honor code just wasn't marketable.

It's a sincere film though and it might be worth a look to judge what public tastes were at the turn of the last century and before the Roaring Twenties.