Le mari de l'indienne

I really enjoy films from around 1931. I like the "early talkie" aesthetic, with gritty black & white photography, sparse (if any) musical scoring, and slightly edgy pre-Code content. In those days of the studio system, Hollywood studios would churn out lots of inconsequential 72-minute quickies. But Cecil B. DeMille's THE SQUAW MAN (1931) is clearly not one of them. DeMille was an auteur and THE SQUAW MAN is something special. A cut above the usual Hollywood fare of the time.

This 1931 film is actually DeMille's third adaptation of the story, following his 1914 and 1918 silents. The third time's the charm for DeMille, who crafts an involving tale with a fine cast and the added dimension of sound.

Jim Wyngate nobly leaves England to live in self-exile in America for the sake of his cousin's marriage to the beautiful Lady Diana. At the same time, he nobly volunteers himself to take the blame for his cousin's embarrassing mishandling of charitable funds. He settles out West and takes up ranching under an assumed name. He makes friends and enemies amongst the cowboys and becomes attached to a young Indian woman. (Native American, that is.) After years of living as a cowboy in Arizona, will Wyngate return to England and resume his past aristocratic lifestyle? Can he?

The cast is great across the board. Warner Baxter, three years removed from his Oscar-winning turn as the Cisco Kid (IN OLD ARIZONA - 1928), stars as Jim Wyngate, the selfless hero. The lovely Eleanor Boardman (THE CROWD - 1928) plays Lady Diana, who loves Wyngate but is married to his cousin (Paul Cavanagh). Charles Bickford is great as the heavy and DeWitt Jennings does a good job as the villainous sheriff. Roland Young (TOPPER - 1937), a personal favorite of mine, has a nice supporting role.

Sexy Mexican spitfire Lupe Velez is Naturich, the "primitive-minded" Indian girl who is chivalrously defended by Wyngate and repays him by saving his life a couple times. There's a connection between the two that transcends cultural barriers and, half a world away from Diana and his past life, the white man takes Naturich as his wife. Velez is heartbreaking in a scene where she fashions a crude toy horse as a birthday gift for her half-breed son (Dickie Moore), who is more interested in his model train.

This film is a vast improvement over C.B. DeMille's own landmark 1914 version. Although the basic plot line is the same, there are several differences in the stories. I don't know which film is closer to the original "Squaw Man" play, but I found this talkie version more effective. (In fact, the 1914 film might not have made as much sense if I wasn't already familiar with the story from this later version.)

The key to this version is the emotional ties between the characters. Jim loves Diana, but nothing can come of it. So he moves thousands of miles away, but we see his face when he sees her picture in the society section. He learns to move on while living with Naturich, but Diana makes a surprise visit and expects things to be just as they were. Jim is excited at the prospect of returning to England, but there's no place for Naturich in English society. And noble Jim wouldn't walk out on poor sweet Naturich. But what of their son? Half white man, half Indian. Should he be taught to rope cattle and beat tom-toms, or should he receive the fine education to which the Wyngate family is accustomed? Jim struggles to decide his son's future at a crucial point. There are no simple solutions for anyone. It may sound melodramatic, but viewers are invested in the characters and must know how things turn out.

The characterizations in the 1914 silent film lack heart.

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.)

It's not exactly perfect that a Mexican-American actress, Lupe Vélez, is plugged in as a Native-American in the third and final version of this film, but it's better to see her than someone like Myrna Loy (no offense Myrna, you know I adore you). And in addition to seeing a person of color in a dramatic and romantic role, the side benefit is that unlike most of her other films, Vélez's character is not some high-strung Latina who has to have a scene or two of animated screaming. Here her character is quiet, doleful, determined, strong, and caring, giving us another side of her as an actress, and her performance is at least as good as the other films I've seen her in, if not better. After being saved by a transplanted Englishman (Warner Baxter) from being assaulted in a saloon, something that would likely have led to rape, her character returns the favor with steely resolve by saving him not once but twice. Vélez has several fine scenes, one of which is when she's in front of the fireplace on a stormy night, radiating soft sensuality. Later she has a perfect reaction to her young son wanting to play with his new train set more than her traditional, handmade horse. It reflects the timeless clash of cultural assimilation, and immigrant parents with kids more drawn to the newer culture they are surrounded by may identify. In several moments throughout the film, Vélez's emotions are conveyed silently through her eyes, and they're all pretty compelling.

Unfortunately, there are also aspects of the character that are harder to like, starting with the broken English she has to speak. It may have been the reality for such a character, but here it's so slow and awkward, and not accompanied with enough other nuance that might help us see that she's just as intelligent despite not being fluent in a second language. And that's at the heart of the issue - the film puts her in a positive light, but it's in a condescending, paternalistic way. She can be attractive, strong, faithful, and a great wife and mother - but she can't be just as smart or the equal of her husband. This culminates in the film's absolute worst moment, when he decides to send their son off to England to get a better education and to have more opportunity, essentially ripping the boy from his mother over her objections. It would be too easy and simplistic to equate this to the heartless and cruel policies of the current American administration at the border, but I have to say I thought of it, and that's not exactly a selling point for the movie. As he talks about this to his friend, he mentions his wife is "primitive" and simply can't understand the British Empire, which was disgusting. It's a white man's world, and as Vélez is neither, she is two steps down in it.

At least the film shows the emotional impact this has on her (in another fine scene from Vélez), and sympathizes with the happy life she's lost in the final images. I also liked how her husband stands by her and refers to her as Mrs. Jim Wingate despite challenges from bothersome locals, and the reappearance of his old (Caucasian) flame (Eleanor Boardman). The film is actually showing us a happy interracial marriage, something that was dangerous and still illegal in many states.

Overall though, it's a little rough going because of the racism and sexism, even if they are milder forms of it, and I debated a lower rating. However, the film scored enough points with me, and exceeded the expectations that I had formed based on its awful title. If you're disenchanted early on, have patience; the only saving grace to a creaky start in England which suffers from a slow pace and poor audio quality is Boardman, who plays her earnest but conflicted role well, and is also quite pretty here. Once the action moves to the American West, Director Cecil B. DeMille tells a good story, one with inevitable conflicts for this couple, and gets some nice shots on location in Arizona. I also loved seeing Dickie Moore, who is just adorable as their son.

This is the worst film that DeMille ever made ( at least those that I saw). It is boring, and simply does not work as a Western ( the Coca Cola placement came to mind). Perhaps if the scenes in England were cut and more Lupe Velez were shown I would like it better? Speaking of Lupe although she played an Indian (Naturich), she looks more gypsy then anything else, but she was much better then anyone else. Especially Warner Baxter who was better as a Mexican ( In Old Arizona) then an Englishman in this movie ( sort off like William Powell in 'The Key' does not work). Although I am no fan of this movie, it is worth watching because of Lupe Velez and because all three of his ( DeMille) movies at MGM ( Dynamite and Madam Satan are the others) are rarely shown.3 of 10 stars.

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.