Mujer pasional

Boy this is a jewel, and for many different reasons. A good lot of people deserve credit for their work

First is Nicholas Ray for his direction. A fine preparation and presentation of the visual elements really took some doing. The use, but not excessive glorification (thank goodness), of the relatively new Trucolor is well-done; the horses full of black-clad riders rushing up the rocky hill in the night, the many shots of the furious blazes dissolving Vienna's place, and so much more.

The acting is remarkable. Sterling Heyden, just in standing before the camera and delivering his lines in that firm and fearless manner (ala Asphalt Jungle), is a strong presence. John Carradine once again shows himself as the precious dramatist he proved himself to be many years before in The Grapes of Wrath.

What strikes me the most, though, is Ben Maddow's (thank Phillip Yordan for being an heroic front) screenplay. It is not only thick in theme and symbolism, it is thick with what was (at the time) almost unprecedented elements. Both Vienna and Emma are, as either GOOD or BAD, shown as the leaders of men! Pacifism is being shown as a good thing! Is that the good guys wearing black and the bad guys wearing white (or maybe the other way around)?! As many comments have mentioned, the Un-American Activities Committee parallels (complete with the entire Ox-Bow-esquire element) are, really, quite thinly veiled. The economically powerful, Small and McIver, are dominant and monopolistic capitalists (a version of antagonism almost unseen, for obvious reasons, since the McCarthey-assaulted Force of Evil). Remember, this is 1954!!!! This stuff is downright revolutionary! How did they ever get it all past the censors and masters of the code?

Let's hope time doesn't forget this one in favor of some formulaic shoot-'em-ups simply because they feature "the Duke."

Hard to know what to say about this florid concoction except that it's truly one of a kind. Taken as a western, it's plain god-awful. Taken as parody of a western, it's sharp as a doorknob. Taken as an experiment in Technicolor, I can think of cheaper ways. To me, the movie is best taken as a collection of insider indulgence. How else to explain Crawford's Park Avenue get-up, or her desert island casino, or McCambridge's manly fierceness, or a bookish bank-robber, or a showdown for toughest woman of Lesbos.

Now, scholars can play around with symbolism all they want. But first, the subject has to be interesting enough to play with. Seems to me there are worthier movie subjects than this one for analysis. Sure, I've read how the story's really a color-coded allegory of McCarthyism, with the black-clad posse as HUAC and the bank robbers as commies. After all, the Dancin' Kid is left-handed and the gang does stick together and they do rob banks. Probably this is as good a subtext reading as any, that is, if you're looking for some such. Me, I just take it as a slice of Hollywood weirdness with Crawford playing dress-up and in charge, with the estimable Nick Ray trailing somewhere behind.

Just outside of town is a small saloon where the owner, Vienna, plans to develop a new town once the railroad comes through. However her associations with criminals (namely the Dancin' Kid and his gang) bring the disapproving Emma Small and the authorities to the saloon. Aided by the arrival of a man from her past, Vienna stands against them, but only succeeds in putting off the inevitable confrontation in a situation made worse by love and deception.

I came to this film simply because it was the username of another person on the imdb boards and I was intrigued as to what it was about. The film starts as a western but it simply doesn't conform to that genre, instead it is a weirdly matriarchal piece where the traditional roles are almost roundly reversed and the whole film has an otherworldly feel to it. The plot summary doesn't really do justice to a story that essentially comes down to being a battle between Emma and Vienna as well as throwing up all manner of issues regarding the relationships between the characters. The western clichés become secondary to these relationships and the director seems to prefer these to any lynching or shoot out.

The full colour of the film gives it a gaudy, otherworldly appeal that is very enjoyable. Fires range in terrible, hellish reds, while shadows divide scenes of emotional complexity. Heck, it even goes down to the basic level of having the innocent Vienna dressed in perfect white before doing a blood red shirt to become a fugitive. Not all of this works of course, and several times I wished it would settle down into a film that I could recognise rather than being so different from what I am used to, but it was more interesting as a result (aside from being less accessible).

The cast are roundly good but the fireworks belong to the two lead actresses. Despite being the title character, Hayden is rather underplayed but I think that was the point - he is not the typical Western man's man. Crawford is very good as Vienna but she is out-hammed and out-vamped by McCambridge who is excellent. In any other film her performance would be woefully OTT but against the background of a saloon burning with a hellish fire, her facial expression work very well and her whole performance fits well too.

Overall this film is no classic western - mainly because it is not a western but rather a complex story in western clothes. The gaudy colours and cleverly framed shots only serve to enhance a plot that is difficult to fully appreciate but is engaging none the less.

The railroad is coming soon to a town in northern Arizona where a tough saloon owner (Joan Crawford) faces off with a power-mad cattle baron (Mercedes McCambridge) over the Dancin' Kid (Scott Brady) and more. Into this mix Johnny Guitar (Sterling Hayden) rides into town, a former love of the saloon proprietor. Who will be left standing when the ashes settle?

"Johnny Guitar" (1954) is melodramatic to the point of being surreal, not to mention implausible, but it's colorful, passionate, original and spellbinding. It's a Tarantino Western 40 years before Tarantino movies existed. The director, Nicholas Ray, also did "Rebel Without a Cause" (1955) so imagine that kind of overwrought 50's melodrama translated to a Western, albeit in glorious color.

Despite the title, Crawford's Vienna is the undoubted protagonist counterbalanced by McCambridge's fiendishly neurotic antagonist, who might bring to mind the Wicked Witch of the West.

Interesting quirky bits are thrown in that enhance the picture, like the A-framed saloon built into the side of a cliff; Vienna's piano recital in a bridal dress; and Old Tom (John Carradine) reading a book while on guard duty. Then there's the mystery of why no one in the area would be aware of the secret passageway behind the waterfall that leads to the "hideout" curiously located on top of a rock mount plain for all to see.

I shouldn't fail to mention Ernest Borgnine as a gang member of questionable character.

The film runs 1 hour, 50 minutes, and was shot in the Sedona region of north-central Arizona, including Oak Creek Canyon, with studio stuff done at Republic Studios in North Hollywood.

GRADE: A-

I would love to know what prompted a studio executive in the early 1950s to green-light "Johnny Guitar". Not that it's a worthless movie, but it's just so incredibly strange. Who thought that audiences wanted to see a Western where gun-slinging outlaws go by none- too-frightening nicknames like Johnny Guitar, Turkey, and the Dancin' Kid? Where the primary plot interest isn't with the male characters, but with two antagonistic women played by Joan Crawford and Mercedes McCambridge? (And whose bright idea was it to bring Peggy Lee in to do the theme song?) Were the story's parallels to McCarthyism enough to get this film made? Was Nicholas Ray a respected enough director that the studio approved this project of his? I don't know, but I certainly would like to.

Of course, nowadays "Johnny Guitar" enjoys a reputation as a camp classic that makes subversive statements about things like feminism and homosexuality. Traditional gender roles get reversed: Johnny (Sterling Hayden) is a relatively passive hero, while his love interest, saloon-owner Vienna (Crawford) is described as being almost more man than woman. And there are many campy, laughable moments: the sight of Johnny holding a teacup, Vienna's poufy dress catching on fire, and most of McCambridge's intense performance as the vindictive Emma Small.

In some sense, though, the movie doesn't go as far as it could. We hear about Vienna's supposed masculinity more than see it: Crawford's voice and mannerisms are much too refined to suggest any kind of manliness. Maybe this is part of "Johnny Guitar"'s camp appeal, but otherwise I'd simply call it a bad performance. In another example of telling, not showing, the characters' convoluted psychology gets spelled out within the first fifteen minutes (e.g. Emma loves the Dancin' Kid, but is so afraid of her own sexuality that she thinks she wants him dead). But wouldn't "Johnny Guitar" be even stronger, and more subversive, if Vienna were truly masculine? Or if the characters' twisted motivations were allowed to unfold naturally, rather than told to us from the start?

Watching "Johnny Guitar," you get the feeling that the filmmakers were trying to make a big thematic statement of a kind not usually found in Westerns. But the exact nature of that statement is never clear (that's probably why this film is so tantalizing to modern scholars who want to decode its secrets). The result is a very bizarre, rather campy, completely unforgettable movie that hints at something more substantial, but never reveals what it is. Maybe if I knew the reason that this movie was initially made, I'd have a chance of figuring it out. But somehow I doubt even that would help much.