Thomas
Ince. When he
came to Los Angeles from New York in 1911, Thomas Ince (1882-1924) was a
29-year-old actor and aspiring filmmaker. He was hired on by the Bison Life
Motion Picture Company to make one-reeler westerns. The Miller Brothers’ 101
Ranch Wild West show was wintering in Venice, California, when he arrived. Ince
hired them, and in one stroke had himself an entire stock company. Next he
acquired an acreage in the Santa Monica Mountains for shooting pictures.
Production
expanded to the making of two-reelers, the first of them War on the Plains
(1912). In Ince’s hands, the scope of the western expanded as well. He wanted
to portray the drama of westward expansion and in particular its impact on the
native populations. He had empathy for what he saw as the tragedy of the red
man. It was an attitude he would share with William S. Hart, a fellow actor he
had known in New York.
William
S. Hart. In
1914 actor William S. Hart (1864-1946) joined Ince’s company to make westerns
of his own. By this time, the market was already becoming glutted with
westerns, and Ince had lost interest in them. But he let Hart make two
two-reelers, The Bargain (1914)
and On the Night Stage (1915).
Both did well at the box office, and at the age of 40 Hart began a career as a
cowboy actor in the movies.
Hart
is often given credit for bringing a depth of new realism to the western. But
film historian Jon Tuska argues that Hart’s western setting is little more than
a backdrop for a morality drama. We get an example of that in his
feature-length film Wagon Tracks,
released in 1919.
Hart and Novak |
Plot. In this story
of an overland trek during the years of westward expansion, Hart plays a trail
guide, Buckskin Hamilton, escorting a wagon train on the Santa Fe Trail. Among
the travelers are three characters who have been involved in the death of his
brother, a young doctor, who was on his way by riverboat to meet up with Hart.
During a card game aboard the boat, the brother had discovered that a
gambler (Robert McKim) was cheating with the help of an accomplice (Lloyd
Merton). Interrupting the fracas that ensued, the gambler’s sister (Jane Novak)
attempted to prevent the firing of a pistol that one of the men had drawn. The
brother, alas, took a fatal shot, and the three then fabricated a story
claiming that Novak was the victim of an attempted assault and killed Hart’s
brother in self-defense.
On the trail, an accident depletes half the wagon train’s supply of
water, and Novak admires Hart’s selflessness as he shares his water ration with
his horse and mule and a couple of thirsty dogs. Guilt-stricken, she
understands for the first time “what true manhood means,” and admits to Hart
that he had been lied to about his brother’s death.
Advertisement, 1919 |
It remains for Hart to determine which of the two men with her did the
killing, because she won’t tell. He ropes and drags both of them on a long trek
into the desert until they break and admit the truth, that McKim, the gambler,
had fired the gun and persuaded his sister to take the blame.
Events take a turn when the wagons are intercepted by a band of Kiowas who
are friendly enough but object when one of their number is shot dead by a
trigger-happy member of the train. To be appeased, they want the life of a
white man in exchange, or they will attack at dawn. When McKim gets picked for
that honor after a draw of straws, Hart hands him a revolver and grants him the
option to kill himself instead.
When McKim escapes rather than (a) commit suicide or (b) face death by torture
at the hands of the Indians, Hart bravely takes his place, saying goodbye to
his horse and mule before walking off to surrender to the Kiowa. The Indians,
however, have other plans. They pull up camp and are waiting for McKim,
surrounding him with their weapons drawn.
In the final scene, the wagon train arrives at Santa Fe, and Hart says
goodbye to Novak, politely shaking her hand before mounting his horse. Not yet
ready to settle down, he is heading back east to meet yet another wagon train.
“The Santa Fe trail,” we are told in a closing title, “where marched the
pioneers, building a new Empire in the sand-rimmed wilderness.” Thus the film
assumes its role in a Hollywood-endorsed myth of Manifest Destiny.
Production still, Wagon Tracks, 1919 |
What to look
for. Watching the movie (below), you will find the storytelling in competent
hands. Ince, Hart, and director Lambert Hillyer demonstrate how to draw out the
emotions and suspense with close-ups and two-shots. Note also the cutting of
the scene of the shooting on the riverboat with its inserts of hands struggling
for control of the pistol.
The drama intensifies in the crosscutting between this scene and shots
of Hart as he travels to meet the riverboat. Not only are his good spirits made
to contrast ironically with the unfortunate fate of his young brother. There are
cutaways to a light-hearted gathering of blacks aboard the boat singing camp
songs: “Weep no more, my lady.”
Hart gets visual drama out of high angle shots of the wagon train as it
travels across the arid terrain. When his character forces his two captives
into the desert, the three figures are shown in long shot crossing flat
stretches of sand that fill the frame. Under the sun’s bright glare, the three
men are diminished by the empty expanse surrounding them and menaced by the
appearance of thorny, twisted Joshua trees. Once the men are shown in the far
distance, disappearing over a low rise, silhouetted in the light of a setting
sun.
Wrapping up. Over a period
of only a dozen years, Hart made over 70 films. A few are currently available
at netflix, youtube, amazon, and Barnes&Noble. While Hart retired from
filmmaking in the 1920s, director Lambert Hillyer continued in a long career
that ended in the 1950s with TV episodes of Highway
Patrol and The Cisco Kid.
Screenwriter C. Gardner Sullivan has nearly 200 credits for films
produced over three decades, including William S. Hart’s Hell’s Hinges (1916), All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), and
Gloria Swanson’s Sadie Thompson (1928). For more Overlooked movies and TV,
click over to Todd Mason’s blog, Sweet Freedom.
Source: Jon Tuska, The Filming of
the West, New York: Doubleday, 1976.
Coming up: B. M. Bower, The Phantom Herd (1916)
Hart has always been my favorite silent Western actor. Hell's Hinges is astounding.
ReplyDeleteAn excellent print of HELL'S HINGES is currently available on youtube.
DeleteAs usual you give the reader a well informed review to allow us to make an informed decision. The early westerns are a well worth revisiting. Doris
ReplyDeleteIt is sad that so many have been lost.
DeleteI was doing some research on World War I homefront. Hart made appearances for the sale of Liberty Bonds (to finance the war) all during the war. When fans were heaping adulation on him in Spokane, he stepped forward and said, "I'm no hero . . I'm just an actor." In the 3rd Liberty Loan Drive alone in 1917, he was responsible for raising over $2 million dollars. After the war, he used his pinto Fritz to raise money for treatment of wounded war horses, mules and dogs. A caring man.
ReplyDeleteHis home in Newhall, outside Los Angeles, remains open to the public, free of charge.
DeleteHart had a keen eye for selection of the movies he wanted to do.
ReplyDeleteAnd I've finally caught up with this! Sorry for the delay.
ReplyDeleteRon, I can't imagine a western film made as far back as 1919 having watched almost none predating the forties or fifties. Thanks for reviewing the film. Everything about it is new to me. The two posters are really nice.
ReplyDeleteLater this week, I'm reviewing B. M. Bower's novel about the making of a western movie, The Phantom Herd. It reveals a lot about silent era production.
DeleteI feel Hart holds up quite well when I watch his silent films. Maybe a little more than Tom Mix who I also enjoy from that period. Another top post, Ron. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteHart takes himself a little too seriously; Mix seems to have had more fun.
DeleteI am not much of a silent movie fan but do watch some of these old westerns, nice review.
ReplyDelete