The Squaw Man

... And the first feature-length movie made in Los Angeles. A British former soldier named James (Dustin Farnum) is blamed when a lot of money is embezzled from the military widows and orphans fund. It was actually James's cousin Henry (Monroe Salisbury), but James gets the blame and goes on the run to the US, while Henry inherits an ancestral title and becomes nobility. James ends up in Wyoming, where he buys a ranch, falls for native girl Nat-U-Rich (Lillian St. Cyr), and runs into trouble with local bad guy Cash Hawkins (William Elmer). Also featuring Winifred Kingston, Baby Carmen De Rue, Joseph Singleton, Raymond Hatton, and Hal Roach.

This is as creaky as one would expect, with primitive filming techniques (most scenes are framed like a stage play, and are usually one continuous shot), and wild pantomime acting. Farnum and St. Cyr are a bit thicker in the middle than most screen stars. My favorite moments include one scene where someone falls off the side of a mountain (a bad dummy is used to humorous effect) and the people who rush to help him do so by rubbing his hands; a scene in which our hero is overcome by the poisonous gases of the "Death Hole"; and a scene where a small child is placed on a horse, given a pistol, and then urged to shoot, which the kid does, seemingly into the back of the horse's head (thank goodness for blanks).

A western with dull if bleak scenery and costumes that look mighty strange (though doubtless the real items), this is an interesting example of early film-making, but one that will delight mainly critics and historians rather than the general movie fan.

The dated, old-hat story is a little difficult to follow at first because the two cousins, James and Henry, are understandably lookalikes, and neither actor has the skills to differentiate himself. In fact, it's hard to believe that stolid Dustin Farnum had a big stage reputation as he displays little charisma or ability here. However, he doubtless improved because he made another forty movies before retiring in 1926. (He married his leading lady here, Winifred Kingston, in 1924).

The rest of the players run rings around Farnum in "The Squaw Man". Red Wing is reasonably effective as the real heroine of the piece, but it's personable Dick LaReno, here making his first of 81 movies, who really impresses as our hero's foreman—not the sheriff who is played by either Dick Palace or W.H. Stratton. And I think that's Art Acord playing the deputy. It's hard to tell because there are no close-ups. Each scene is filmed with either a static long shot or medium group shot. And there is virtually no camera movement apart from a few slight pans.

English cousins Dustin Farnum (as Jim) and Monroe Salisbury (as Henry) are made trustees for an orphans' fund. Mr. Salisbury has a fondness for betting on the horses, and pilfers money from the fund. For the sake of family honor, Mr. Farnum accepts responsibility for the missing funds, and sails off to America. Farnum buys a ranch, befriends the local Indians (Native Americans), and feuds with wicked William Elmer (as Cash Hawkins). When Salisbury dies, on the Swiss Alps, widow Winifred Kingston (as Diana) wants to bring Farnum home to England, but he's settled in America with Squaw Red Wing (as Nat-u-ritch)…

Due to its relatively long length, this is sometimes called the first feature film. It is also the noted as first feature filmed in Hollywood, California; but, you wouldn't know it - the Farnum ranch looks like Hollywood (check out the background), but the more memorable ship trek and heavy snowfall scenes can't be Hollywood (obviously). It's the first film by director Cecil B. DeMille, who shows some promise (in hindsight).

There are no great performances; Dustin Farnum was an important stage actor, getting acquainted with film. I thought Farnum was best and most impressive in the scenes with his "half-breed" son (who looks nothing like his Indian mother). Billy Elmer was entertaining in what should have been a larger role (Cash Hawkins). I found "The Squaw Man" confusing - some of the events and relationships are like... "fill in the blanks". The Indian/Englishman relationship was, perhaps, daring for an early film theme (if you can figure out what's going on); and, Ms. Wing was a real Winnebago Indian actress.

****** The Squaw Man (2/15/14) Cecil B. DeMille, Oscar Apfel ~ Dustin Farnum, Red Wing, William Elmer

History seems to consider The Squaw Man to be Hollywood's first feature-length film. However, Custer's Last Fight (Francis Ford, 1912*) runs at just under an hour. I'd consider that feature-length. And it was made in Hollywood. So, I dunno.

In any event, this is a really important film, historically, and Cecil B. DeMille's first feature--and his first film, period. Supposedly, he hadn't even seen a film until shortly before he made this. It totally shows.

It's kind of a clumsy jumble of scenes taken from a book. There's no real cinematic logic or flow. There are lots of scenes of people just standing around talking--which doesn't really work in a silent film, especially without many intertitles. Characters were hard to tell apart, because they were mostly filmed in long shot. I found it all somewhat difficult to follow, although I guess I got the gist.

Still, some of the individual scenes are interesting. I suppose the theme of interracial marriage was probably notable for the time (and its outcome predictable). And the film ws mostly filmed on location, which made it a bit easier to watch. I don't imagine I'll ever feel a burning desire to see this again, but it was worthwhile seeing once as an historical document.

C. B. DeMille did learn his craft quickly. By 1915, he was doing vastly better work than this (Carmen, The Cheat).

5.5/10

* Although the version I saw was a 1920s reissue, and it's possible it had some footage added, but it seems unlikely, because that almost certainly would have been jarringly obvious.

The Squaw Man may be best remembered as the first picture directed by Cecil B. DeMille, and the first made in Hollywood, then a convenient wilderness. It's a rather inglorious debut on both counts, and nowadays is perhaps most interesting as an example of the early western feature.

In pioneer westerns of the 20s and 30s the main theme was usually the exploration of the unclaimed west, but in the 1910s the most common set-up was of a civilized easterner heading to an already-settled but still unruly west. This is the case in Griffith westerns like The Battle of Elderbrush Gulch (1913), as well as later features by DeMille such as The Virginian (1914) and A Romance of the Redwoods (1917). It's worth bearing in mind that, in this early part of the twentieth century the "old" west would have been a fairly recent memory, and the western was then more a lesson in geography than history. It's also rather apt given the circumstances of production – companies from the east going out west – and probably also the reason why they are called westerns and rather than being some sub-genre of the historical feature.

While the outsider in westerns of this period was typically a lady or gentleman of New York or some other east coast city, the titular squaw man is an Englishman. There are a few establishing scenes set in England, with a plot regarding an embezzlement from an orphan's fund that is very reminiscent of Griffith's biograph shorts. This is not surprising, as Griffith took his themes from the American stage where he began his career, and The Squaw Man is based on a play. The trouble is, Griffith was a master at making these theatrical stories cinematic, whereas the adaptation of The Squaw Man is rather flat and weak. The plot takes bizarre, improbable and pointless turns, sometimes getting bogged down in subplot and at other points zipping ahead making the narrative incomprehensible at times.

As noted this was Cecil B. DeMille's debut as director, although this is perhaps misleading. It was co-directed by Oscar Apfel, who had already made two-dozen shorts for Edison and Pathe. Accounts of the production state that Apfel handled the technical side of things, whereas DeMille coached the actors. DeMille may therefore be responsible for some of the fairly decent naturalistic acting on display here, although there are some lapses into appalling pantomime. There are some DeMille style attempts to photograph the imagination, with double exposures showing the hero dreaming of home, one of which is very effective, with a picture in a magazine morphing into the woman he has left behind. There also seem to be some experiments with lighting going on with some contrasting brightness and dimness in interiors, perhaps a forerunner of the Rembrandt lighting that would soon become a DeMille trademark. It is of course very difficult to accurately attribute ideas, although DeMille is also credited as "picturizer" (i.e. screenwriter) and producer.

In spite of these meagre marks of quality, as a whole The Squaw Man lacks excitement and real drama. In comparison DeMille's first feature as solo director, The Virginian, is a far more solid production, and although made only a few months after The Squaw Man it is light years ahead in style.