Dieu est mort

There are essentially two ways in which to view this movie.

The first one is to compare and contrast this film with the novel from which it is loosely inspired, "The Power and the Glory" by Graham Greene. This would unfortunately lead to disappointment and a poor understanding of John Ford's motives in making this movie. While the characters and situation are indeed taken from the book, The Fugitive is radically different, not just in the manner in which the main characters are treated, but more importantly, in the message it carries. While Greene's masterpiece described how even the most outwardly depraved and despicable of human beings can be redeemed by their last actions of faith and sacrifice, John Ford was more concerned with showing how circumstances may transform a cowardly priest into a martyr for the faith. While these two themes may be related, they reveal a difference in their respective author's world view and understanding of faith and redemption. It may be argued that the code of those days would not have permitted the showing of an alcoholic and adulterous priest on screen, but this would be misunderstanding the fundamental philosophy of John Ford, whose relatively conservative views in matters of morality would have recoiled at such an idea.

This brings us to the second way in which this movie can be enjoyed and appreciated, namely as John Ford's labour of love and guilty pleasure. It has been said that, of all the masterpieces he created with Henry Fonda and others, and there were many, The Fugitive was one of his all-time personal favorites, even though it was never a popular, nor critical success. Ford projected in his version of the story many of his personal trips regarding his faith. Allegories, and barely subtle Christ references abound in this movie, though never in a simple, nor trite manner. Rather, it is a beautifully-made story of a man's journey from fear and doubt to a better understanding of his role, no matter how modest, in the grand affairs of the world.

The photography is truly a work of art, masterfully using light and shadows, brightness and dark, close-ups of faces distorted by anguish and halos of figures resembling statues in church alcoves. Fonda's performance, always perfect, reaches new heights here. His mastery at containing emotions, while letting them seep through the audience, undiluted, gives this particular characterization extraordinary strength and complexity. It would have been tempting to interpret the priest as an almost static character, given the subject matter. Instead, while his priest was neither alcoholic, nor adulterous, he displays an even greater weakness and flaw of character: lack of faith, profound self-doubt and abject cowardice. His fears, doubts and anguish and his gradual descent into debasement, are in many ways more disturbing since they are in direct conflict with the sacrifices and moral strength demanded of a priest during religious persecution.

Dolores del Rio is magnificent in her Mary-Magdalena characterization, as Pedro Amendariz, superb as the perennial Judas torn by love, hate, jealousy, and fear. There is very little dialogue, and unlike many of Ford's movie, very little of the usual comic relief which often balances dramatic moments. Yet, there is never a dull or unnecessary scene.

John Ford has crafted in this movie something better than a faithful rendition of "The Power and The Glory". Indeed, The Fugitive is a beautiful, heartfelt story about humanity's frailty and its struggle to find strength and redemption in times of crisis. In this sense it is after all a wonderful tribute to Graham Greene's novel.

I was attracted to this movie because of Henry Fonday, Dolores del Rio, and John Ford, all of whom I'm a fan. But this movie was just so WEIRD. From the start, I felt like I had joined the movie in the middle. The dramatic music along the walk and as he enters the church - it feels like a crucial point in a movie, but we don't even know what's going on yet. There are long periods with no dialogue, almost has the feel of a silent movie at times.

I found the whole movie depressing without any redeeming character development that would have made me sympathize with the characters. Why is Fonda, a white priest, even in this country in the first place? It's never explained. And he lets everyone take the fall for him. He's not likable or relatable in any way to me.

Move over, Harrison Ford; your namesake John got here first. While comparisons with Andrew Davis' action-packed 1993 thriller are inevitable in discussing 'The Fugitive (1947),' the two films – aside from the similarity described in their shared title – are completely unrelated, and about as different as two films could possibly be. Unlike many of the Westerns that brought director John Ford his greatest fame, 'The Fugitive' is entirely unconcerned with any form of action or dialogue; Ford's film-making is so concentrated on establishing the correct emotional atmosphere for each scene that it occasionally strays into tedium. However, it was obviously a very personal project for the Ford – who once called it "perfect" – and it's difficult to criticise a film into which the director poured so much passion and resolve. The story was adapted from Graham Greene's 1940 novel, "The Power and the Glory" {a.k.a. "The Labyrinthine Ways"} and concerns the plight of a victimised Christian priest, in an unnamed Latin American country where religion has been outlawed.

Perhaps the film's greatest weakness, from my reasoning at least, is that it is so concerned with painting each character as an icon or ideal (few characters are afforded names, and are instead credited with indefinite articles; "a fugitive," "a lieutenant of police," "an Indian woman") that it's hard to sympathise with them. Fortunately, while consistently attempting to maintain each character as a "timeless" figure in the film's ageless story, Dudley Nichols's screenplay avoids the usual stereotypes to which most amateur filmmakers would inevitably resort. The Fugitive (Henry Fonda) is not a courageous, humble pillar of human decency, but a misguided clergy driven by an unconscious self-pride; his adversary, the Lieutenant of Police (Pedro Armendáriz), loves his country and its people deeply, but, guided by a fierce blind patriotism and an illogical hatred of religion, he is often misled towards acts of sheer barbarity. The Police Informer (J. Carrol Naish) is a Judas-like character, betraying The Fugitive to the authorities, and becoming inescapably repentant at the thought of his inhumanity.

Despite not being particularly religious myself, I was sufficiently moved by Christianity's noble plight for survival, though I wasn't overly fond of the film's ultimate assertion that the lieutenant's hatred of religion stems directly from his secretly believing in God but being unwilling to admit it. Nevertheless, if you're going to watch 'The Fugitive,' it will most certainly be for the photography, which is, captured by Mexican cinematographer Gabriel Figueroa, indescribably breathtaking. The opening sequence, in which The Fugitive returns to his former church, the light streaking through the windows as though God himself is reaching into the forsaken depths of the building, is spellbinding in its beauty. While Armendáriz is charismatic, and even slightly sympathetic, in his role of the antagonist, Henry Fonda largely looks awkward in the lead role (though you could argue that this uneasiness is integral to his character), and most of the other players – perhaps due to a language barrier – are similarly stilted. A visual masterpiece this film may be, and certainly an overall interesting watch, but 'The Fugitive' remains inferior Ford.

John Ford's adaptation of Graham Greene's "The Power And The Glory" captures perfectly the potential for the seven deadly sins in all of us. It is an incredibly and understatedly raw and emotional and downright earthy movie. The entire supporting cast is brilliant, and Fonda, of course, is excellent, if not precisely ideal. This is in all senses, a quintessential study in soul-searching.

This excellent and dramatic movie , a co-production US-Mexico , is based on Graham Greene novel and written by Dudley Nichols . It starts when a priest (Henry Fonda) attempting to flee from a Centroamerican country , because Christianity being pursued by a totalitarian govern . He encounters help by an Indian woman (Dolores Del Rio) with a baby . She gives him direction to port where he could embark towards freedom . Meanwhile , he finds a mean countryman (J Carrol Naish) craving reward and is pursued by an authoritarian officer (Pedro Armendariz). Furthermore , his existence runs parallel a bank robber , The Gringo (War Bond) also relentlessly pursued .

Magnificent movie featuring awesome performances by complete casting . The film develops some John Ford's usual themes , as the sentimental nostalgia , sense of camaraderie , religion , and abound touching scenes . Henry Fonda in a larger-than-life role as a good priest is top-notch , Pedro Armendariz as a nasty general is perfect and War Bond as outlaw wanted by totalitarian police is cool . Fonda (Grapes of wrath , Drums along the Mohawk , Young Mr. Lincoln) and Pedro Armendariz (3 Godfathers , Fort Apache) played several films for John Ford . Besides , there appears Ford's habitual friends , someone uncredited , such as Jack Pennick , Rodolfo Acosta , John Qualen , Fortunio Bonanova , J Carrol Naish, Mel Ferrer's first film and the opening narration is by Ward Bond , who also plays an important role in the film . Luxurious cinematography in lights and darks by Gabriel Figueroa (usual of director Emilio Fernandez , here also producer) . Enjoyable musical score by Richard Hageman , adding Mexican songs with emotive dance included in charge of Dolores Del Rio . The picture shot in Mexico , was produced by Ford's Argosy Production Company , RKO pictures and Merian C. Cooper . Rating : Better than average , well worth seeing for John Ford enthusiasts .