Swamp Water

If one had missed the opening credits, he would be forgiven for thinking that 'Swamp Water (1941)' was one of John Ford's lesser-known efforts. If the cast of familiar Ford faces – including Walter Brennan, Ward Bond and John Carradine – didn't lead you up the wrong path, then it's the smaller touches that characterise the director's Westerns: a close-knit community, an impassioned brawl, an innocent young lass, a significant father-son relationship. In this case, however, the credit doesn't belong to one of America's greatest filmmakers, but to the French equivalent {though it comes as no surprise that writer Dudley Nichols was a frequent Ford collaborator}. 'Swamp Water' was Jean Renoir's first picture following his migration to Hollywood in the early 1940s. Interestingly, considering the distinctive brand of auterist film-making evident in 'The Rules of the Game (1939)' just two years earlier, there's little here to suggest that Renoir is seated behind the camera. Aside from a waterbound opening shot that calls to mind several scenes from 'A Day in the Country (1936),' this film bears little resemblance to the other seven Renoirs I've seen to date.

When hunter Ben Ragan (Dana Andrews, in an early role) ventures into the feared Okefenokee swamp to retrieve his lost dog, he happens upon the hiding-place of Tom Keefer (Walter Brennan), a convicted murderer who escaped custody and has been living in isolation for several years. Despite having become a rugged and slightly eccentric recluse, Keefer firmly professes his innocence and spares Ben's life, in exchange for keeping silent about his whereabouts. Back in town, and to his sweetheart's (Virginia Gilmore) chagrin, Ben befriends Keefer's daughter Julie (Anne Baxter), a raggedy young beauty who shies away from social interaction like a frightened kitten {fortunately for her career, Baxter would play a substantially more independent character in Wilder's 'Five Graves to Cairo (1943),' and I certainly don't need to mention 'All About Eve (1950)'}. Meanwhile, Ben's father Thursday (Walter Huston) watches out for the cowardly ruffian who has been bothering his younger wife Hannah (Mary Howard) – the perpetrator is, of course, the suitably pathetic John Carradine.

Even if it doesn't attain the dizzying heights of Renoir's other offerings, 'Swamp Water' deserves to be seen for his marvellous and atmospheric cinematography (the stifling swamp photography was captured by Peverell Marley) and strong performances. Andrews perhaps wasn't the most authentic actor of the 1940s, but here he plays the young hero with a tenacity that signalled a successful future in Hollywood. Huston is, of course, terrific, and I've found it interesting that he never seems to play the same character (to such an extent that in 'And Then There Were None (1945)' and 'Dragonwyck (1946)' it took me a while to even recognise him!). But the heart of the film belongs to Brennan, who comes across as sympathetic and likable without even trying, though he brings an added toughness to this role that I liked – by the way, how the heck did they film the snake-bite scene without risking their top-billed star? I don't know if 'Swamp Water' could be confidently recommended to fans of its French director, but John Ford aficionados could certainly do much worse.

I can remember seeing this movie as a kid and getting the bejesus scared out of me. The darkness and uncertainty of the swamp terrified my young imagination and the image of the skull atop a cross touched all my Roman Catholic primal fears. My impression of the swamp, i.e., crocs, gaters and snakes, topped with a dark image of the fugitive played by Walter Brennan, lasted for years. Now, I do recall there being a video (although none is listed here), because I did see it again a few years back. The shock of the darkness of the film was dulled by over 50 years of life but the Gothic quality of the story along with the fine characterization of Renoir makes this film a classic. Walter Huston is great in his curmudgeon role as the young Dana Andrews's father married to a younger woman who's getting moves laid on by ever villainous John Carridine. The presence of great character actors Guinn"Big Boy" Williams, Ward Bond and gravel-voiced Eugene Palette adds much to the texture of the film. Too, the young Anne Baxter is superb as the daughter of Brennan and the female interest of Dana Andrews. The story line seems a bit tame, by today's standards but holds up well. All in all, this is a satisfying film well done and provocative. Check it out.

When Ben (Dana Andrews) heads into the dangerous Okefenokee Swamp to search for his missing hunting dog, he finds fugitive Tom Keefer (Walter Brennan) living like a wild man. After a rough beginning, Ben and Tom grow to trust each other, and Tom reveals that he was falsely convicted of murder, which is why he's hiding out. Ben promises to look in on Tom's daughter Julie (Anne Baxter), which leads to romance, but when townsfolk begin to suspect that Ben's frequent trips into the swamp may be connected to Keefer, everyone is put in jeopardy.

This was one of the few American films that French master Renoir worked on, and it wasn't a pleasant experience. He and producer Darryl F. Zanuck fought over everything, particularly location shooting, which Renoir preferred, versus studio shooting, which the cost-conscious Zanuck wanted. Most of the film ended up being shot in the studio, but some location shots were done in the real Okefenokee by dialogue director Irving Pichel. The movie is okay as far as films about "backwoods simple folk" subgenre movies go.

The cast is good, especially Brennan, but Walter Huston is wasted as Andrews' disapproving father. Anne Baxter replaced the fired Linda Darnell, and while I normally prefer Darnell, I don't think she would have been right for this part. Baxter has a certain feral look to her eyes that fit the wild-child role, even if her perfectly drawn eye brows don't. As for director Renoir, he accused Zanuck of butchering the film in the editing process, and canceled his Fox contract as soon as he was able.

A swamp that is widely perceived by all the locals as impenetrable offers refuge to a convicted murderer who has been hiding out there for years and has learned its lessons well enough to actually get by quite well. Fear of the swamp and its cottonmouths and alligators is enough to keep any civilized person out, but when a hunter's dog jumps out of his canoe and gets lost in this swamp, its the love he (Dana Andrews) has for his dog that draws him deeper into the swamp and sets up the meeting with fugitive Walter Brennan. It turns out the swamp isn't so bad after all, as Andrews and Brennan team up to collect a valuable set of furs from the animals they've trapped. Back in the town the truth of the murder for which Brennan faces hanging emerges in a very well told story. Jean Renoir was able to bring the town into the swamp or vice versa in this beautifully filmed movie. For sure the best actor awards go to Walter Huston who plays Dana Andrews father, and whose second wife is being courted by another great, John Carradine. The primordial beauty of the swamp makes a nice contrast to the dramatic backwoods small town swamp of this slice of America.

I'm not really familiar with Renoir's movies: I watched "The Woman on the Beach" a number of years ago and enjoyed it for Robert Ryan's performance, and its unusual plot and characters (especially Charles Bickford as the blind artist.) Unlike others, my appreciation of "Swamp Water" was not affected by its comparison to other films by the great French director. I came across "Swamp Water" online and, not knowing anything about it, initially thought it was either a horror movie or one of those cornpone looks at the "poor ole souls" of the deep South. The film's credits lifted my spirits, and assured me that I was in for a surprise. And I was. I love this movie: the cinematography, the subtle characterizations, the dialogue (especially Brennan's cosmic musings.) Dana Andrews (never my favorite actor, always to me a poor man's Robert Ryan) is superb, Walter Brennan, as usual, transcendent, the women complex and not condescended to, and the array of familiar character actors round out the cast with their usual more than competent contributions. Swamp Water has a psychological and emotional complexity unusual for such a simply plotted film, and its haunting evocation of the mysterious region in which it is set assures it will remain one of my favorites.