Dieu est mort

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.

Fugitive, The (1947)

*** (out of 4)

Henry Fonda plays a priest in Central America who finds himself on the run after the government bans all religion. Fonda manages to go from town to town with religious folks willing to protect him but soon he runs into a crooked police informer (J. Carrol Naish) who might be giving information to the Lieutenant (Pedro Armendariz) who will stop at nothing to clear the streets of the evil religious figures. This film was a notorious flop when it was released and I'm fairly positive it would flap in any year in any decade. That's not because it's a bad film because it isn't but the film is so depressing that you can't help but feel most people wouldn't want to sit through it. The film contains some absolutely breath-taking cinematography by Gabriel Figueroa, which ranks as some of the best I've seen from this era. If you think the noir genre was good at using shadows and darkness then you haven't seen anything yet. As I said, this movie is 100% depression and what really fits the mood is the cinematography because it paints the perfect atmosphere. There are countless memorable scenes including the final shot with a cross as well as an earlier one where Fonda is hiding in a church and many parents from the village come in to get their children baptized while they have the chance. Another major plus working for the film is Ford's direction, which is top-notch as usual. I'm really not sure why this film would appeal to him but it's always amazing to go through Ford's career and see how many times he would direct something outside his range and pull it off. Ford does a terrific job building up this sad atmosphere and I really enjoyed the fact that he didn't pull any punches by adding fake comedy or just trying to lighten up the mood. Then, of course, there's Fonda who once again delivers the goods. The way Fonda walks here makes it seem as if he's a feather blowing in the wind because he's obviously a weak man who is struggling with being hunted. I thought the actor did a tremendous job showing the frailty of the character and the inner struggles he's having with the religion. Naish made a career out of playing snakes and once again he delivers an excellent performance and I'm sure by the end you'll be wanting to kill this guy yourself. Dolores del Rio plays a disgraced woman who is befriended by the priest and is excellent as well. Leo Carrillo, Ward Bond and Robert Armstrong add nice support as well. It's Armendariz who steals the show however as the truly tortured soul who is fighting to keep the religion out of his streets but is doing so due to some secret issues. THE FUGITIVE has all the right elements but it's still lacking something. Perhaps the film is just too laid-back for its own good but it never really crosses the greatness mark.

When Herbert J. Yates of Republic Pictures made a deal with John Ford to produce The Quiet Man he first made Ford agree to do one of his cavalry epics with John Wayne because he wanted a surefire moneymaker before taking a chance on The Quiet Man. The cavalry picture was Rio Grande.

He must have been talking to the folks at RKO who lost their collective shirts when the public stayed away in droves from The Fugitive. It got great critical acclaim and no box office at all.

My guess is that The Fugitive was sold all wrong or was made a year or two too early. If it had been sold as an anti-Communist as opposed to a pro-Catholic film it might have done better in those beginning years of The Cold War.

The Fugitive is based on a Graham Greene novel The Power and the Glory and it is about a priest in an unnamed South American country who is a fugitive because of his calling. An anti-clerical government has taken control of the country and they are doing their best to drive the Catholic religion out of the country.

Henry Fonda turns in a good sincere performance as the cleric, but he's about as convincingly Latino as Toshiro Mifune. The other members of the cast are well suited for their roles.

The best performance in the film is from that chameleon like actor J. Carrol Naish who could play any kind of nationality on the planet. He's the informer who rats out Henry Fonda to the police. Very similar to what Akim Tamiroff did to Gary Cooper in For Whom The Bells Toll and Naish's own performance in another Gary Cooper film, Beau Geste.

This was the first of three films Pedro Armendariz did with John Ford in an effort to broaden his appeal beyond Mexican cinema. Dolores Del Rio as his estranged wife was already familiar to American audiences from the silent screen.

The original novel by Greene had the priest as somewhat less than true to all his vows. He's a drinker and a womanizer. Del Rio's character is also quite tawdry. And this from Greene who was a well known Catholic lay person. But this Hollywood in the firm grip of The Code so a lot of what Greene wrote had to be softened by Ford for the screen. It lessened the impact of the film.

And with the whitewashing of Fonda's character came some rather heavy handed symbolism of Fonda as a Christlike figure.

Still The Fugitive might be worth a look for Ford, Greene, and Fonda fans.

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.

It's been written somewhere that the cruelest thing you can say to an artist is that his work is flawless. John Ford thought of the Fugitive as, despite not being a box-office success, a perfect film and one of his very favorites. It's perhaps more than prudent then to point out some of the criticisms one would have of the film (which, perhaps, is moot since he's been dead for decades). As a fan of the Ford work I've seen there are some times when he's touched perfection (Grapes of Wrath and the Searchers are it for me), and sometimes not so much, which goes without saying he directed many films. With the Fugitive it's recognizable to me why it's split its audience: some hail it as being totally underrated and a brilliant depiction of religious allegory and suffering, and some say that it's a total crock for being far too heavy-handed and acted over-the-top.

Both sides have their right points; it is an underrated picture, if only for its technical feats of cinematography (Gabriel Figueroa is just right for this kind of material for Ford) and Ford's usual talents as a basic storyteller with a tendency for pure cinema expression (i.e. lack of dialog is a plus with the emotion expressed through the camera and actors. But it is also not well-acted in a couple of instances, notably the beautiful but overbearing Delores Del-Rio as the woman living in the town who's baby is baptized by the Priest played by Henry Fonda. For Fonda, it should be said, he at least gives all he can for a performance that possibly other actors could have played with more magnificence. In fact it's for him that some of the picture is most watchable, as he flexes his emotional chops for a scene where it's required for complexity like when he misses the boat and is asked to bless someone dying only to realize there is no wine and must go to ask from a vulgarian for wine (which, as it turns out, is drunken with brandy and all by him).

While it might not be the Fonda we all know and love from Grapes of Wrath or My Darling Clementine he does what he can with the part, and it's a tribute to him and Ford that they make it engrossing on a very simple level that carries some complex connotations. When focusing on the actual chase and flight from the Mexican police it works very well (particularly with a hammy but effective informer played by J. Carrol Nash). It's just when Ford over-indulges in the spiritual aspect of the picture, which is only made clearer towards the end, that it loses its footing. Indeed the start of the picture kind of threw me off for a little bit as Fonda comes in with the Christ-like symbolism highlighted on the wall, and the townspeople come in with tears in their eyes and a somber song to sing and Fonda blesses and baptizes others. I wondered: is this a little TOO much in the way of what Ford does best, which is telling the story? He can be brilliant in throwing in his deep-rooted Catholic ideas as pure visions on the screen, and once or twice in the Fugitive he does... and then other times it falls flat or goes too high where it starts to become a full-blown religious picture as opposed to a societal thriller.

Should Ford fans see it? Of course; even a lessor Ford picture will have something interesting. Will everyone like it? Surely not. Yet it is usually fine, traditional work and shouldn't be completely dismissed.