The Last Hunt

“The Last Hunt” (1956) is a superior western and contains what is probably Robert Taylor’s finest performance.

With that statement, it’s possible I’ve already lost some readers, as Robert Taylor seems to be among the most lambasted figures from Hollywood’s Golden Age. Many think he is as dull as dishwater and is among the most wooden, one-note and transparent performers from that period. (I suspect his biggest critics are Barbara Stanwyck fans, and those who can’t forgive him for being a friendly witness to the House Un-American Activities Committee).

Some people may really think Taylor was a terrible actor, and they are entitled to their opinion. But the hatred for him seems way out of proportion. Dan Callahan, in his recent book on Barbara Stanwyck, is particularly harsh on Taylor.

But the Movie Corner has always been, and always will be, an avid Robert Taylor supporter, though I think his post-war career was far more interesting and varied than his pre-war work. There were some good assignments at the first half of his career at M-G-M, but there was also far too much fluff in movies like “Personal Property” (1937), “Remember?” (1939) and “Lady in the Tropics” (1939).

(I think Vivien Leigh exhibits more chemistry with Taylor in “Waterloo Bridge” (1940) than she does with Clark Gable in “Gone with the Wind” (1939), but don’t tell anyone I said that).

In many of these M-G-M assignments he was asked to stand around and look uncommonly handsome. But watch him in tougher roles from the same time frame, like the boxer in “The Crowd Roars” (1938) and the western “Stand Up and Fight” (1939). There’s a little more fire there, more enthusiasm, as if he wants to break out of the pretty boy formula roles forced on him by Louis B. Mayer. (Taylor was among the most loyal employees M-G-M ever had, never turning down or questioning a role. He was also the longest-tenured contract player in the history of M-G-M.)

Like his compatriots Tyrone Power, Clark Gable and James Stewart, Taylor served his country during World War II and came back a more mature and guarded figure. The looks and bearing had coarsened, and despite the best efforts of Hollywood’s make-up wizards, they couldn’t hide what these men had experienced during the war. It’s as if they aged a decade in two years.

Taylor’s post-war career gave him a strong number of really good films,  but he was never better than in “The Last Hunt”, where Taylor plays what is probably his most out-and-out villainous role – a mean, sadistic and racist buffalo hunter who takes immense pride in slaughtering buffalo He’s genuinely great in it, and he certainly should have been remembered at Oscar time.

 

I’m thinking that when “The Last Hunt” opened in 1956, it was pretty startling to audiences used to more traditional westerns. Written and directed by the underrated Richard Brooks (from a novel by Milton Lott) “The Last Hunt” is an adult western in the best sense, with a cast of distinct characters each bringing different dimensions to the table. Because they’re by themselves during hunting season, there’s plenty of opportunities for the contrasts to come to the forefront.

Robert Taylor is Charlie, who starts off mean and only gets meaner as the movie goes on. He partners with the easy-going Sandy McKenzie (Stewart Granger), who grew up among the Indians and respects their traditions. He hunts for the money the buffalo hides will bring him, but takes no pleasure in the slaughter, unlike Charlie.

The always-great Lloyd Nolan plays Wonderfoot, a peglegged skinner who is the best in the territory. He’s realistic about life and harbors no grudges against anything. Russ Tamblyn is Jimmy O’Brien, a half-breed who questions his identity and place in the world, and is an easy target for the Indian-hating Charlie.

“The Last Hunt” was filmed on location in the scenic grandeur of the Black Hills and the Badlands, and while the vistas are magnificent, what plays against it is anything but.

 

 Almost unbearable to watch today are the scenes of the buffalo hunting. According to a disclaimer at the beginning, the scenes of the buffalo being killed are real, and were committed by actual sharpsmen hired by the government for the annual thinning of the herd. It’s hard to watch, especially in one scene, played in relative close up, where a white buffalo (sacred to the Indians) is killed by Charlie. It looks painfully real.

What else riveted audiences to their 1956 seats? There’s also a scene where Charlie utters, twice, the phrase “I’ll be damned.” Hardly eyebrow-raising now, but it must have startled audiences at the time.

There’s also a scene where Sandy rubs manure over an Indian brave’s wounds to help cauterize them. The towns in the movie also don’t resemble sterilized western towns from other films of the era, but look like the dirty, dingy places they really were, with small, ramshackle buildings separated by muddy streets. The saloon girls don’t look anything like Ann Sheridan in “Dodge City” (1939), but tired, worn out and defeated by life.

But it’s the dynamics on display here that are the most interesting. Taylor’s character despises Indians, and when an Indian girl (Debra Paget) becomes part of their camp, accompanied by a young child, when a brave she is traveling with is killed by Charlie, his hatred only intensifies.

Paget’s character is never given a name, which seems pretty demeaning, but I think Brooks is saying something more. To many in the west at the time, Indians weren’t people at all, and not worthy of a name. (I don’t know if the character has a name in the novel. I started to read it, but couldn’t get through it. There’s only so many pages describing buffalo skinning one can read).  

 

 

Charlie’s feelings about Indians intensify when he’s around the Indian girl. It’s also obvious he’s sexually attracted to her even as he hurls insults about her people. There’s a scene where they’re laying next to each other on the ground, and he’s this close to having his way with her, and I’m still not sure how that got past the censors at the time.

 

Paget’s casting in the role would criticized today, but it was a smart move by M-G-M. Paget had played an Indian maiden in one of the biggest western hits of the entire decade in “Broken Arrow” (1950), and later again in “White Feather” (1955). She’s very good in the role, but as my readers know some of my likes by now, in my mind Debra Paget can do no wrong, and she can be cast in any role at all. Heck, they could have cast her as Father Flanagan, and it wouldn’t faze me at all.

All the actors are fine, but it’s really Taylor who shines. His contempt for humanity is evident in every scene, and when he does soften a bit towards the end, it’s too late. His comeuppance is one of the most unusual I’ve ever seen, and it has stuck with me through the years from the first time I saw it.

 

 

Even when he isn’t playing as morally complex a character as Charlie Gilson, there’s just something I’ve always liked about Robert Taylor. True, he may not be the versatile actor out there, but I just enjoy watching him. A sturdy, agreeable presence, if he was rarely great, he was never bad, and was often good. I would rather watch a Robert Taylor movie over some of his more celebrated colleagues, and I was surprised to see how many of his movies I have in my DVD collection. Let the cynics complain, and make fun of his real name (Spangler Arlington Brugh), but I will always beat the Robert Taylor drum, proudly and loudly.

101. All the Brothers Were Valiant

101. (06 Apr) All the Brothers Were Valiant (1953, Richard Thorpe) 34



To its credit, I can't tell if All the Brothers Were Valiant was shot with rear projection, using models, or if most of it was actually done at sea. That alone merits a Cinematography nomination even if this can't hold a candle to The Robe or Shane. The balance of interiors and exteriors is especially well-balanced.

The film itself is a bit of a lame disaster. There's certainly action, adventure, and romance, but this is plainly a crummy adaptation of a sprawling novel. A sizable part of the film's middle for instance, fills us in on back-story in seemingly endless flashbacks. Despite having the least similar accents ever, Robert Taylor and Stewart Granger attempt to play brothers; their effort is less than valiant.

079. The Fighting Lady

079. (05 Mar) The Fighting Lady (1944, Edward Steichen) 69



Encapsulating how war is mundane, stressful waiting punctuated by breathless action, The Fighting Lady gives an incredibly clear sense of life on board an aircraft carrier. The photography is rather ingenious; every time pilots start shooting, the camera flicks on. That Technicolor photography is breathtaking. Perhaps the most involving bit here is when a bomb ignites after a pilot lands, spraying the deck with molten metal. It's hard not to be in awe of the mix of excitement in terror in such moments.

073. The Secret Land

073. (29 Feb) The Secret Land (1948, ?) 54



Ever so slightly better than Antarctic Crossing from a decade later, this Documentary Feature nominee more competently demonstrates the hardship of Antarctic exploration. There's more intrigue seeing ships plow through thick ice and the preparation process, like raising and training dogs to pull sleds. Most of this is instantly forgettable, but it's unique subject matter brought to life in narration by Hollywood stars who were also military veterans like Van Heflin.

Ivanhoe (1952)

When adapting Sir Walter Scott’s famous novel, “Ivanhoe” (1952), what did M-G-M do first, consult the novel or “The Adventures of Robin Hood” (1938) starring Errol Flynn? Likely both, though I think there’s little doubt the strong influence the Flynn film has on “Ivanhoe.”

Not only had Robin Hood been a huge audience favorite since its release in 1938, but it was a perennial favorite as a re-issue. Warner Brothers were surprised at the high grosses a double feature of Robin Hood and Flynn’s other great swashbuckler, “The Sea Hawk” (1940) earned in a 1948 re-issue. Robin Hood was sent forth to theaters once again in the early 1950s before being sold to television. So the success of Flynn’s Robin Hood was no doubt in the minds of the “Ivanhoe” creators.

In an odd coincidence, both movies earned Best Picture nominations, an honor rarely afforded to traditional swashbucklers.

And “Ivanhoe” should be justly regarded as one of the screen’s great swashbucklers, even if it doesn’t reach the heights of the Flynn film. True, it doesn’t have the high spirits and zest of the 1938 film, and “Ivanhoe” journeyman director Richard Thorpe doesn’t have the visual flair of Michael Curtiz.

But there is much to enjoy, thanks to a literate script, a grand Miklos Rozsa score, terrific swordplay, beautiful vistas of the English countryside and arguably the best castle siege ever put on film.

It’s no secret that “Robin Hood” screenwriters Norman Reilly Raine and Seton I. Miller used the novel “Ivanhoe” as a basis for their script. If memory serves, Norman and Saxon rivalry during the reign of Richard the Lionheart was mainly an invention of Scott, and later added to existing Robin Hood legends. In fact Robin Hood and his Merry Men have fairly substantial supporting roles in “Ivanhoe.”

Both movies deal with brave Saxon oppressors against Norman injustice during the time King Richard the Lionheart is away at the Crusades. Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe (Robert Taylor) tries to raise a ransom for Richard after the king is taken hostage by Leopold of Austria on his way home from the Crusades. While trying to save Richard, Ivanhoe upsets the plans of Richard’s brother Prince John and company, who have been ruling in Richard’s place.

Prince John (a magnificently sneering Guy Rolfe) and his Norman allies are in no hurry to have Richard home as they are plucking the kingdom dry left and right. Guy Rolfe is one of my favorite character actors, and he’s especially good here. His Prince John carries an expression throughout of a man who just stepped in something unpleasant.

Besides the main plot, what other Robin Hood influences are there? Well, the Saxon Princess Rowena is played by Joan Fontaine, Olivia deHavilland’s sister. She is certainly lovely in the part, but Fontaine was not under contract to M-G-M at the time. Why her? Was she chosen for the DeHavilland connection, and hence a subconscious Robin Hood link, or because of her availability?

Like the Flynn film, “Ivanhoe” is ideally cast with a roster of superb character actors, including George Sanders, Robert Douglas, Felix Aylmer, Finlay Currie, Guy Rolfe, Francis De Wolff. And what voices! I wish we had actors today with such distinctive voices. One just closes the eyes and revels in their dictation.

Low brow comedy relief is provided by the squire Wamba (Emlyn Williams), whose appearance, haircut and manner bring one to mind of Much the Miller (Herbert Mundin) in the Flynn film. Wamba’s puppy dog loyalty to Ivanhoe is very similar to the role Much had for Robin Hood.

Robin Hood (Harold Warrender) and his Merry Men (one of whom is Sebastian Cabot) join with Ivanhoe to keep England safe until Richard returns, and that includes taking part in the film’s action highlight, the storming of Torquilstone Castle. For almost 15 minutes of furious action we get thousands of arrows shooting through the air, wooden ladders flung against castle walls, sword fighting through fire- and smoke-filled corridors and one particularly amazing stunt where we see, from overhead, a stuntman fall from the castle’s ramparts and into the moat below.

Warrender was an unfamiliar face and name to me, so I looked him up on IMDB. I was saddened to see he died just the following year at age 50. I wonder what happened to him?

A radiant Elizabeth Taylor is on hand as Rebecca, daughter of Isaac of York (Felix Aylmer), a Jew whose role as treasurer of his tribe is key to raising Richard’s ransom.

Ivanhoe is lucky to have the attentions of such fetching beauties as Rebecca and Rowena, but Rebecca’s beauty has caught the eye of Ivanhoe’s main foe, the Norman knight de Boise Guilbert (George Sanders). This is the weakest part of the film.

As much as I love watching (and listening) to George Sanders, his lovesick knight here is not well written. There’s very little interaction between de Boise Guilbert and Rebecca, so we’re somewhat surprised when towards the end he says he will sacrifice his title and lands if she will love him. Where scenes cut establishing their relationship? I wish there had been at least one good scene between Sanders and Taylor to set this up.

When we think of Sanders, we think of the superior, aloof, and yes, caddish zest he brought to his roles. Sanders is always great fun to watch. But here he tries for sensitive, but comes off dull, a sin in the Sanders canon.

Back to another Robin Hood connection. Rebecca is put on trial with witchcraft and stands in a shimmering white gown facing her accusers, very similar to the gown Maid Marian (Olivia deHavilland) wore in facing her tribunal in the Flynn film. It could be an obvious choice of the costume designers, dressing their heroine in pure white, symbolic of her standing against the corruption flooding the kingdom. The dresses aren’t identical, but they sure do look a lot alike.

Both films also end with Richard returning to England and promising to rule justly and to mend the Norman and Saxon rivalry.

It’s somewhat churlish to go all this way without mentioning Robert Taylor (no relation to Elizabeth). He’s fine in the role, and has the chivalrous (if humorless) behavior down pat, but he’s not the best fencer in the world. Some of his sword fighting scenes are clunky, and make one appreciate the seemingly effortless flair the likes of Flynn and Tyrone Power brought to their fight scenes. Taylor was still a big favorite with audiences, especially the ladies, and no doubt his name brought a lot of people into the theater.

Like Korngold’s score for “The Adventures of Robin Hood”, “Ivanhoe” boasts a majestic score, courtesy of Miklos Rozsa. Rozsa became something of a music historian when researching Roman music as a basis for his score for “Quo Vadis” (1951) and greatly enjoyed the process. He embarked on a similar role in preparing his “Ivanhoe” score, visiting museums in Europe to study 12th century music. I can do no better than to quote the great composer himself:

“I wanted again to create a score that would sound stylistically authentic. I found a somewhat similar situation in musical matters between twelfth century England and first century Rome. As Roman music was largely influenced by the Greeks, so came the Saxons under the influence of the Normans, who were much more cultured. The sources of Saxon music are extremely few, but there is a large amount of music of that century of the French troubadours, who brought their music with the invading Normans to England.”

Under the film’s opening narration Rozsa introduces a theme from a ballad actually written by Richard the Lionheart. The tender love theme for Ivanhoe and Rowena is adapted from an old popular song from the north of France. Rozsa said, “It’s a lovely melody, breathing the innocently amorous atmosphere of the Middle Ages, and I gave it modal harmonizations.”

While I rail about the running time of many movies, I wish “Ivanhoe” was fleshed out a little more. At 106 minutes “Ivanhoe” could have used some additional scenes, especially establishing more groundwork in the Rebecca and de Boise Guilbert storyline.

But “Ivanhoe” still stands as magnificent entertainment, one sure to please young and old alike. The DVD release is a splendid transfer, beautifully showcasing the Technicolor photography.