Tambores de guerra

It's the American revolutionary war. Gilbert Martin (Henry Fonda) takes his newly married wife Lana Borst (Claudette Colbert) from a wealthy Albany family to a small farm in remote upstate New York. They face political intrigue. Lana gets hysterical upon meeting friendly Oneida convert Blue Back (Chief John Big Tree). Gilbert joins the local militia. The British has recruited Mohawk warriors to go to war.

I can abide by the drunken, stupid savage Indian stereotype. I can abide by the We treat them well comment. I can abide by Colbert's silly hysteria and her melodramatic acting. I can abide by a lot. I will not abide by the well-built frontier homes. They have second floors. They have porches and giant windows. Worst of all, they're made of stone. None of that is realistic. The final battle at the fort is mostly killing cannon fodder Indians. When they are able to kill an old woman, it is the most melodramatic death in cinema history. Nevertheless, it is good for its time. The color cinematography is amazing. John Ford's directing is great. The combination of Fonda and Colbert is good. It is old fashion but it couldn't be anything else.

Other comments on this film quite well echo my sentiments: John Ford once again exhibits his mastery of the medium, with a minimum of the sentimentality to which he sometimes succumbed; a very young and handsome Henry Fonda wonderfully embodies an ordinary man virtually forced to perform feats of extraordinary heroism; Claudette Colbert, although she seems out of her usually sophisticated element, really cannot be faulted, especially when one considers the Hollywoodized glamor of her makeup and costuming; and Edna May Oliver, heading Ford's customarily astutely chosen supporting cast, almost steals the picture.

But, to my eyes, it is the unusually beautiful Technicolor cinematography by Bert Glennon and Ray Rennahan (the latter being the credited cinematographer on the first feature-length film in three-strip Technicolor, 1935's "Becky Sharp") who deserve the most accolades. Their work simply glows and has that special crispness characteristic of certain early Technicolor films (many of which bore the Twentieth Century Fox label, as it happens.) No doubt, working on outdoor locations with the cumbersome equipment and lighting requirements involved in the use of the Technicolor process at that time, not to mention the lengendarily dictatorial control of the Technicolor Corporation's czarina, Madame (Natalie) Kalmus, and her frequent associate, Henri Jaffa, Messrs. Glennon and Rennahan managed to accomplish one of 1939's finest achievements in color cinematography. With Alfred Newman's fine musical score and all of the other first-class production values lavished on this stirring tale, "Drums Along the Mohawk" deserves a place among the best recreations of those remarkable personal stories that were part of this newly emerging nation.

I am not aware if the available VHS tape transfer does justice to the prints struck from the original negative, but American Movie Classics occasionally shows this title (mercilessly chopped up with endless commercials, etc., as is now their wont) in a version that makes one realize why the invention of color television broadcasting just had to happen!

1939 was a banner year for great films--and certainly one of them was "Drums Along the Mohawk" in gorgeous early technicolor about a period in history not often used as the subject of a major film. Henry Fonda and Claudette Colbert are fine as a young couple in the years before the Revolutionary War settling in the backwoods of New York state. The hardships of pioneer life are made even tougher by the presence of Indians on the warpath, the only refuge being a nearby fort where men, women and children find some protection.

Brilliantly photographed with lots of action scenes that bring the film vividly to life under John Ford's direction. John Carradine makes an excellent villain and Edna May Oliver gives another one of her priceless performances as an elderly widow who forms a strong attachment to the young couple. An unforgettable scene has Indians raiding her home while she refuses to budge from her bed even though they set fire to it. Scenes of Indian cruelty and torture are also present--but altogether a moving film well worth viewing to see what frontier life must have been like way back then.

Sentimental at times--but also harsh and realistic. Most memorable scene: Fonda pursued by Indians for a long chase over woodlands, finally wearing out his pursuers who collapse from sheer exhaustion. Thrilling chase!

When Lana Martin (Claudette Colbert) arrives by wagon with her new husband, Gil (Henry Fonda), to Mohawk Valley and his homestead, she isn't prepared for what she sees. The time is just before the Revolutionary War. The valley is beautiful and unspoiled, but the homestead is a one-room log cabin Gil has built, and the farm will need to be worked by the two of them. Lana has never seen an Indian, but in the course of the movie she's going to see a lot, and most won't be friendly.

Drums Along the Mohawk is John Ford's curious but effective look at one aspect of the Revolutionary War. The story isn't about George Washington or the great battles. It's the story of what happens in this one, isolated valley in upstate New York. While there are Indian attacks and we can see the results of a battle or two, the story really is about Lana Martin and how she changed. We watch her and Gil build their farm, and we see it burnt to the ground when war comes to the valley. From a young woman in a big, frilly dress facing a life she had never imagined, by the end of the movie Lana is wearing a soldier's coat and is prepared to shoot down an attacker, which she does with hardly a blink. She sees Gil return from his first battle almost shell-shocked. We see her and Gil having to become hired hands when their farm is destroyed. We see her suffer a miscarriage. At the start of the movie, Gil was an honest, hard-working young man, almost naive at times. Now he and Lana are watching the birth of their new nation. They've both become...capable. "Well," Gil says to her at the close, "I reckon we'd better be getting' back to work. There's going' to be a heap to do from now on." And we know he's talking about building a nation, not just a new farm.

The movie is effective despite John Ford's long-time propensity for ham-handed humor, sentimental myth building and his indulgence in stereotypical portrayals of Indians as either child-like objects of amusement or animal-like objects of fear. What saves this story, as it saved many of Ford's films, is his great talent for cinematic story-telling. As corn-ball as some of the scenes in this movie are -- the short, chubby drunk or Gil's amazement that his wife is giving birth or the wise but child-like behavior of the Christian Indian chief -- we still are caught up in Gil's and Lana's story. Although the movie is particularly a paean to the women who had to struggle on, sometimes fighting, sometimes waiting, Ford gives the film an unusual unwarlike tone. The widow Mrs. McKennar, who took Gil and Lana in when their farm was destroyed, looks at Gil marching off to his first battle and thinks about her husband. "Sometimes he'd wave. Ten to one he wasn't even seeing me. He was thinking about all those men, you see. All those men he went out to fight...to kill and be killed...blast his eyes, loving it." One powerful scene has Gil and the other men back from the battle. They won but it didn't go well. Gil has collapsed, and as Lana tends to him he barely notices her. He just stares into the distance while he tells what happened when they were ambushed. "I got down back of a log and aimed at a fellow. He leaped straight up in the air. Fell forward on his face. After that we just kept shooting as fast as we could load for I don't know how long. Adam Hartman came over beside me. His musket was broke. He had a spear. He kept grinning. I remember thinking, 'He's having a good time. He likes this.' Pretty soon he pointed off. I saw an Indian coming toward us, naked. I tried to load but it was too late. Adam stood up and braced his spear and the Indian came down. I never saw a fellow look so funny, so surprised. He just hung there, with his mouth open...lookin' at us, not sayin' a word. I had to shoot him, there wasn't anything else to do."

Ford pushes the buttons of duty, faith and patriotism. We've learned that war isn't the glorious struggle some make it out to be. Still, Ford shows us that fighting to protect our land, to protect our chance to build our farm and keep our children safe is proper. In 1939, that was a strong message. So was his theme of patriotism with which he closes the movie. At the fort in Mohawk Valley a company of regular soldiers arrives to tell the people that the war has been won, that Cornwallis has surrendered to Washington. They're carrying a flag. A churchman looks at it and says to the others, "So that's our new flag, the thing we've been fighting for. Thirteen stripes for the colonies and thirteen stars in a circle for the Union." And with that a couple of men take the flag and climb to the top of the church steeple, where they tie it down so that it waves in the wind. Ford knew how to punch home a point, alright.

Fonda and Colbert were both fine actors. Fonda, in particular, brings, as usual, a strong sense of decency to his role. While I think he and Colbert make a slightly improbable pair (Colbert in all her roles, for me, seems to have a sly worldliness that makes her so good at sophisticated comedy), they work well together. The movie is really war from a woman's point of view, and Colbert brings it off.

This is one great film to look at on a lazy afternoon. It is definitely the finest film John Ford ever directed without the use of John Wayne. The timing of the release of it was interesting due to the fact that the world was edging ever closer to the brink of war and the country needed something to help boost morale. Also, the performances in this film were great as well. Henry Fonda and Claudette Colbert were wonderful, but the character that really stood out for me was the old spinster, Mrs. McKlennar portrayed by Edna May Oliver. Too bad it had to be released in 1939. Due to all the great releases that year, this film definitely got lost in the shuffle.