By some curious twist of Fate (or perhaps an error committed by the movie gods), I was provided two screeners for a single request from a distributor to the latest home video release of John Ford’s Western epic The Searchers.
For those of you who’ve never heard of it … shame on you!
Arguably, the film is one of the quintessential oaters of all time. Presently, it maintains an incredible score of 94 (out of 100) on Metacritic.com; it holds a solid 87% on the Tomatometer at RottenTomatoes.com; and IMDB.com shows it’s cemented a resounding 7.8 (out of 100) on IMDB.com User profiles. While those are indeed some impressive heights, that’s chump change when compared to the fact that in 1989 the U.S.’s National Film Preservation Board induced the title into the National Film Registry, the federal organization that seeks to retain pictures that have contributed to the legacy of film as an artform since its inception. I’ve also read that it’s a personal favorite of some of the biggest and best filmmakers around the world who site it as a crowning inspiration for what so many have tried to accomplish when getting into the entertainment business … so let’s all just agree that it is most definitely a production of some notoriety.
Chiefly because I’m dealing with a flick as monumental as The Searchers, I’ve decided to break my review into two parts. (Well, that and the fact that I owe a distributor two publishing citations also plays into my thought process.) I’m doing this as well as there’s something unique about the story that’s been written about perhaps ad nauseum elsewhere on the World Wide Web; but as I cover Westerns in this space as (A) I like them, (B) they’ve built an enduring influence on Fantasy and Science Fiction, and (C) it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to I’d like to sound off on a visual technique that director John Ford implemented at three places in his feature … and I’d like to give my two cents on what it all might mean.
So … instead of ‘buckle up’ why don’t all of you ‘saddle up.’ We’re going to take a wild ride back into the days of yesteryear – albeit briefly and with less dust – to examine one narrative aspect to one of the greatest motion pictures of all time.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An American Civil War veteran embarks on a years-long journey to rescue his niece from the Comanches after the rest of his brother’s family is massacred in a raid on their Texas farm.”
For a short time in my life, I thought I might want to make motion pictures.
I’ve told the story elsewhere – it really isn’t anything elaborate – but the straight skinny of it is I was on track to a somewhat exclusive education opportunity when my alma mater entirely screwed the pooch on my behalf, refusing to forward the copy of my collegiate transcript I paid for over a clerical error on their part. At last minute, I wound up dropped from the program; but – as I was away on vacation – I didn’t receive notice until it was far too late to fix the problem. Life went on, folks, and I’m here where I am now with few complaints … but I still have absolutely nothing to do with my alma mater.
But whilst I was in college, one of the films that was recommended for my study was The Searchers. I had to watch, research, and review several productions; but – for very specific reasons – I opted to pass on the John Ford and John Wayne collaboration. What I recall thinking at the time (when my advisor and I were choosing these various flicks for my further attention) was that Searchers was far more of a technical achievement than it was anything groundbreaking with story. Yes, it had some character development, and it definitely had some solid acting worth some watch; but I felt – maybe naively – way back then that the end result was too much about ‘shooting’ a film than it was ‘telling’ a story. As such, we agreed to pass it over for the purposes of the course.
For those of you who’ve never heard of it … shame on you!
Arguably, the film is one of the quintessential oaters of all time. Presently, it maintains an incredible score of 94 (out of 100) on Metacritic.com; it holds a solid 87% on the Tomatometer at RottenTomatoes.com; and IMDB.com shows it’s cemented a resounding 7.8 (out of 100) on IMDB.com User profiles. While those are indeed some impressive heights, that’s chump change when compared to the fact that in 1989 the U.S.’s National Film Preservation Board induced the title into the National Film Registry, the federal organization that seeks to retain pictures that have contributed to the legacy of film as an artform since its inception. I’ve also read that it’s a personal favorite of some of the biggest and best filmmakers around the world who site it as a crowning inspiration for what so many have tried to accomplish when getting into the entertainment business … so let’s all just agree that it is most definitely a production of some notoriety.
Chiefly because I’m dealing with a flick as monumental as The Searchers, I’ve decided to break my review into two parts. (Well, that and the fact that I owe a distributor two publishing citations also plays into my thought process.) I’m doing this as well as there’s something unique about the story that’s been written about perhaps ad nauseum elsewhere on the World Wide Web; but as I cover Westerns in this space as (A) I like them, (B) they’ve built an enduring influence on Fantasy and Science Fiction, and (C) it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to I’d like to sound off on a visual technique that director John Ford implemented at three places in his feature … and I’d like to give my two cents on what it all might mean.
So … instead of ‘buckle up’ why don’t all of you ‘saddle up.’ We’re going to take a wild ride back into the days of yesteryear – albeit briefly and with less dust – to examine one narrative aspect to one of the greatest motion pictures of all time.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An American Civil War veteran embarks on a years-long journey to rescue his niece from the Comanches after the rest of his brother’s family is massacred in a raid on their Texas farm.”
For a short time in my life, I thought I might want to make motion pictures.
I’ve told the story elsewhere – it really isn’t anything elaborate – but the straight skinny of it is I was on track to a somewhat exclusive education opportunity when my alma mater entirely screwed the pooch on my behalf, refusing to forward the copy of my collegiate transcript I paid for over a clerical error on their part. At last minute, I wound up dropped from the program; but – as I was away on vacation – I didn’t receive notice until it was far too late to fix the problem. Life went on, folks, and I’m here where I am now with few complaints … but I still have absolutely nothing to do with my alma mater.
But whilst I was in college, one of the films that was recommended for my study was The Searchers. I had to watch, research, and review several productions; but – for very specific reasons – I opted to pass on the John Ford and John Wayne collaboration. What I recall thinking at the time (when my advisor and I were choosing these various flicks for my further attention) was that Searchers was far more of a technical achievement than it was anything groundbreaking with story. Yes, it had some character development, and it definitely had some solid acting worth some watch; but I felt – maybe naively – way back then that the end result was too much about ‘shooting’ a film than it was ‘telling’ a story. As such, we agreed to pass it over for the purposes of the course.
Good things come to those who wait, and now – decades later – I get to sling a few words about what I found then (and do today) most notable about it. Of course, this may be something that has already undergone a great deal of criticism around the world; and that’s perfectly okay. Each of us only has to be true to oneself, and I’m still seizing this opportunity whilst it’s in front of me now. I’ll happily tell you more about The Searchers as a completed whole in a later review. For now, let’s talk about framing …
Without going into any great extrapolation of the plot, Searchers is a Western that stretches over several years; and the main thrust of all the action involves two men – Ethan Edwards (as played by John Wayne) and Martin Pawley (Jeffrey Hunter) – spend the better part of a decade in search of their niece/sister who was abducted in a raid by Comanche Indians that left almost the whole remainder of her family dead. Across hills and over the plans, the pair search relentless, no maybe how near or far whatever scrap of a clue suggests the young woman was taken. Eventually, they do find her; and – make of that what you will – it’s a moment of redemption that’s delivered quite touchingly in spite of all that’s happened in the process.
As director, Ford was no stranger to film – as a whole – and he was certainly no stranger to Westerns. He and Wayne had essentially broken ground on some of the best moments this singularly American film genre has ever offered; and I think it’s fair to approach The Searchers as both a crowning achievement as well as a kind of cinematic ‘good-bye’ to the ideas and concepts that had made so many of these projects great. Society was a’changin’ – technology and war had truly pushed mankind into an all-new era of science, education, and opportunity – and it didn’t look like Westerns would be around as frequently as they had been in years past. In no small way, this influence – this passing of the torch – fed into the story and visuals with uncanny clarity.
Perhaps it was for this reason that Ford framed the opening and closing of the picture in the manner he did. At the onset, the screen is filled with pure darkness while slowly what can eventually be perceived as the opening of a door gives way to expressive color. With a character or two, we’re taken through the doorway to stand on the porch outside in order to behold the truly awe-inspiring expanse of the Great Outdoors – some of the most impressive peaks of Monument Valley. (Google it, if you must: I’ll be here when you get back from the sheer majesty.) It’s at this point that the family see that Uncle Ethan – a Civil War veteran who has stayed away from home for some time – is returning, and our story is now set to unfold.
Similarly, the closing scene to Searchers coopts that opening structure, but here Ford has the procedure essentially playing out in reverse. As I mentioned, young Debbie (now a woman played by a young Natalie Wood) comes back home in Uncle Ethan’s arms – yes, those who know here might sense that I’m specifically ignoring any discussion of character development because it doesn’t matter to the visuals. He sets her on the ground, and she’s joined by her other remaining relatives; and – together in arms – they all head back into the home, marching into and out of the frame into that blackness beyond. Ethan turns, and – in a customary gait known only to ‘The Duke’ – he marches away slowly. The door closes, plunging the screen back into that same darkness of the flick’s opening sequence.
It’s of doors that I wish to speak.
Doors symbolize things. They mean stuff. There are many adages about doors and their openings and exactly what they mean; and there isn’t any doubt that Ford – using this foundation – was trying to establish something as such with his film. Some might say that it’s a commentary about opportunity – the West was a place where a great many settlers set out in search of their own fortune and fame – and I suspect that there’s nothing wrong with that perception. But I’ve always seen this technique as making a point about civilization.
You see, while we live civilization in the light collectively, it’s really something that we experience individually. Think of it as our own private dark away from the harsh spotlight of mankind. Even though we might be afraid of the dark, we still find a bit of comfort in there. It’s just us and no one else. Alone, we can live with our family under a roof and within these four ways; and we’re free to make whatever choice we might, do whatever it is we choose to do, and be whatever man, woman, or child we’re best at home with. In this darkness, we are fundamentally who we are; and it might be the only place we’re ever truly at soul fulfilling peace. This isn’t to say that, conversely, we’re afraid of the light: this is more about balancing that equilibrium between being calm and feeling safe. Out there in the light, danger abounds. Out there in the light, we might have to bend a rule in order to make ends meet. Out there, we’re who we need to be to survive; but at home – in the dark – that’s the only place where you and I are fully allowed to exist peaceably. It just is.
Without going into any great extrapolation of the plot, Searchers is a Western that stretches over several years; and the main thrust of all the action involves two men – Ethan Edwards (as played by John Wayne) and Martin Pawley (Jeffrey Hunter) – spend the better part of a decade in search of their niece/sister who was abducted in a raid by Comanche Indians that left almost the whole remainder of her family dead. Across hills and over the plans, the pair search relentless, no maybe how near or far whatever scrap of a clue suggests the young woman was taken. Eventually, they do find her; and – make of that what you will – it’s a moment of redemption that’s delivered quite touchingly in spite of all that’s happened in the process.
As director, Ford was no stranger to film – as a whole – and he was certainly no stranger to Westerns. He and Wayne had essentially broken ground on some of the best moments this singularly American film genre has ever offered; and I think it’s fair to approach The Searchers as both a crowning achievement as well as a kind of cinematic ‘good-bye’ to the ideas and concepts that had made so many of these projects great. Society was a’changin’ – technology and war had truly pushed mankind into an all-new era of science, education, and opportunity – and it didn’t look like Westerns would be around as frequently as they had been in years past. In no small way, this influence – this passing of the torch – fed into the story and visuals with uncanny clarity.
Perhaps it was for this reason that Ford framed the opening and closing of the picture in the manner he did. At the onset, the screen is filled with pure darkness while slowly what can eventually be perceived as the opening of a door gives way to expressive color. With a character or two, we’re taken through the doorway to stand on the porch outside in order to behold the truly awe-inspiring expanse of the Great Outdoors – some of the most impressive peaks of Monument Valley. (Google it, if you must: I’ll be here when you get back from the sheer majesty.) It’s at this point that the family see that Uncle Ethan – a Civil War veteran who has stayed away from home for some time – is returning, and our story is now set to unfold.
Similarly, the closing scene to Searchers coopts that opening structure, but here Ford has the procedure essentially playing out in reverse. As I mentioned, young Debbie (now a woman played by a young Natalie Wood) comes back home in Uncle Ethan’s arms – yes, those who know here might sense that I’m specifically ignoring any discussion of character development because it doesn’t matter to the visuals. He sets her on the ground, and she’s joined by her other remaining relatives; and – together in arms – they all head back into the home, marching into and out of the frame into that blackness beyond. Ethan turns, and – in a customary gait known only to ‘The Duke’ – he marches away slowly. The door closes, plunging the screen back into that same darkness of the flick’s opening sequence.
It’s of doors that I wish to speak.
Doors symbolize things. They mean stuff. There are many adages about doors and their openings and exactly what they mean; and there isn’t any doubt that Ford – using this foundation – was trying to establish something as such with his film. Some might say that it’s a commentary about opportunity – the West was a place where a great many settlers set out in search of their own fortune and fame – and I suspect that there’s nothing wrong with that perception. But I’ve always seen this technique as making a point about civilization.
You see, while we live civilization in the light collectively, it’s really something that we experience individually. Think of it as our own private dark away from the harsh spotlight of mankind. Even though we might be afraid of the dark, we still find a bit of comfort in there. It’s just us and no one else. Alone, we can live with our family under a roof and within these four ways; and we’re free to make whatever choice we might, do whatever it is we choose to do, and be whatever man, woman, or child we’re best at home with. In this darkness, we are fundamentally who we are; and it might be the only place we’re ever truly at soul fulfilling peace. This isn’t to say that, conversely, we’re afraid of the light: this is more about balancing that equilibrium between being calm and feeling safe. Out there in the light, danger abounds. Out there in the light, we might have to bend a rule in order to make ends meet. Out there, we’re who we need to be to survive; but at home – in the dark – that’s the only place where you and I are fully allowed to exist peaceably. It just is.
Ethan Edwards is a character who only feels himself in the light. He’s been far and wide. He has stories to tell. He’s lived a life of harsh choices; and he’s learned to speak his mind – speak ‘his peace regardless of who he’s with, what they’ll think of him, and what consequences he may have to suffer as a result. The character says as such in several moments in the film, but I think Ford best represented this idea in the opening and the closing of his Western: Edwards avoids the light. There are things in the light that he isn’t meant for; and there are things out here – in the light – needing a man like him to see them done. That’s why he, ultimately, is shown walking away in the ending. Of course, this doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll vanish into the ether; rather, it’s just underscoring that Ford’s darkness – that civility awaiting within – isn’t meant for him.
To further demonstrate that idea, Ford incorporates another bit of visual framing relatively early in the film: Edwards and Pawley are returning from serving their time on the posse meant to capture or confront the villainous Comanche only to find the Edwards’ homestead still burning from the Indians who destroyed it the day before. Around the side of the house there’s what I assume to be a food shelter – a squat barn – and Uncle Ethan marches toward the place after finding his sister-in-law’s torn and bloodied dress on the ground before it.
To stage this for the camera, Ford chose to place it inside the shed, sheltering it in that same darkness that both opens and closes the picture. As he backs into the space, Ethan stands in the doorway, his expression aghast at what he finds inside. Though we’re never shown the obviously despicable display, it’s very clear by Wayne’s eyes that he’s horrified beyond the pale, suggesting that we – as the uninitiated to this world of violence and bloodshed – would not wish to behold anything like it.
What does this usage of framing say about the aforementioned darkness?
Again, I think it underscores the great risks that each of us places upon our own shoulders when we choose safety and comfort. Civilization – whatever form it takes – has risks; and those risks will necessarily need to be defended at times. Though we might think we’re in a place of tranquility, all it takes is for a single shaft of that light outdoors to find a way through the doorway into our preferred stillness; and it can all be taken away in an instant. Tragedy descends upon the Edwards family, and only by heading out into the wild frontier, facing it, reconciling whatever misdeeds have been carried out against us, and returning will we inevitably find that same sheltering dark waiting for us on our return. Of course, we’ll be changed by what we’ve endured … but we’ll always find who we are once more when we’re back in the embrace of pure blackness.
The Searchers (1956) was produced by C.V. Whitney Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights and sounds to be as monumental as when they were first conceived: the film looks utterly fabulous in 4K. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There’s a great audience commentary along with some exceptional looks into the film’s enduring history worth your discovery. It’s a great, great collection.
Highest Recommendation Possible.
It should go without saying that there are motion pictures everyone should see, and I’d certainly put The Searchers on that list. This doesn’t in any way imply that I think that every viewer will embrace it as feverishly as have so many ‘in the know.’ Shot in the 1950’s, it arguably uses some storytelling tropes that might not resonate as strongly with some; and there’s a strong undercurrent of racism to a few characters, something that falls out of favor with audiences even when the tale is meant to denounce a lead character’s darker choices. Still, The Searcher deserves to be seen for what it accomplishes visually: from start-to-finish, it’s a primer of what can be accomplished when a true auteur of cinema sets out to give audiences a crowning achievement … and it shows in so, so, so many ways.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Searchers (1956) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
To further demonstrate that idea, Ford incorporates another bit of visual framing relatively early in the film: Edwards and Pawley are returning from serving their time on the posse meant to capture or confront the villainous Comanche only to find the Edwards’ homestead still burning from the Indians who destroyed it the day before. Around the side of the house there’s what I assume to be a food shelter – a squat barn – and Uncle Ethan marches toward the place after finding his sister-in-law’s torn and bloodied dress on the ground before it.
To stage this for the camera, Ford chose to place it inside the shed, sheltering it in that same darkness that both opens and closes the picture. As he backs into the space, Ethan stands in the doorway, his expression aghast at what he finds inside. Though we’re never shown the obviously despicable display, it’s very clear by Wayne’s eyes that he’s horrified beyond the pale, suggesting that we – as the uninitiated to this world of violence and bloodshed – would not wish to behold anything like it.
What does this usage of framing say about the aforementioned darkness?
Again, I think it underscores the great risks that each of us places upon our own shoulders when we choose safety and comfort. Civilization – whatever form it takes – has risks; and those risks will necessarily need to be defended at times. Though we might think we’re in a place of tranquility, all it takes is for a single shaft of that light outdoors to find a way through the doorway into our preferred stillness; and it can all be taken away in an instant. Tragedy descends upon the Edwards family, and only by heading out into the wild frontier, facing it, reconciling whatever misdeeds have been carried out against us, and returning will we inevitably find that same sheltering dark waiting for us on our return. Of course, we’ll be changed by what we’ve endured … but we’ll always find who we are once more when we’re back in the embrace of pure blackness.
The Searchers (1956) was produced by C.V. Whitney Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights and sounds to be as monumental as when they were first conceived: the film looks utterly fabulous in 4K. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There’s a great audience commentary along with some exceptional looks into the film’s enduring history worth your discovery. It’s a great, great collection.
Highest Recommendation Possible.
It should go without saying that there are motion pictures everyone should see, and I’d certainly put The Searchers on that list. This doesn’t in any way imply that I think that every viewer will embrace it as feverishly as have so many ‘in the know.’ Shot in the 1950’s, it arguably uses some storytelling tropes that might not resonate as strongly with some; and there’s a strong undercurrent of racism to a few characters, something that falls out of favor with audiences even when the tale is meant to denounce a lead character’s darker choices. Still, The Searcher deserves to be seen for what it accomplishes visually: from start-to-finish, it’s a primer of what can be accomplished when a true auteur of cinema sets out to give audiences a crowning achievement … and it shows in so, so, so many ways.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Searchers (1956) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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