|
Video Review:
Destry Rides Again (1939)
by
Jonathan Walker
Often we inherit
destructive patterns in life, or we assume them, or they are thrust
upon us. They often mask our potential and keep us from success.
Destry Rides Again (1939) tells the story of how people
overcome their challenges to clean up the rebellious town of Bottleneck
in Hollywood's old west.
The crooked
businessman Kent (Brian Donlevy) has a stranglehold on Bottleneck.
He owns the mayor and honest sheriffs have a habit of "leaving town"
suddenly-and permanently. Frenchy (Marlene Dietrich), the music
hall performer, enjoys the perks of helping Kent cheat the farmers.
The mayor appoints the town drunk, Washington Dimsdale (Charles
Winninger), as the newest mayor to prevent any serious disruption
to their power, but "Wash" takes the job seriously. He sends for
the famous lawman Thomas Jefferson Destry (James Stewart). Only
Destry has some "peculiar ideas for a deputy sheriff": he doesn't
advocate six-shooters or showdowns as a means to justice and he
won't even carry a gun.
There are certain
films that delight me so thoroughly that I enjoy recommending them
to everyone I know, but I hesitate writing reviews on them. I fear
I might analyze the fun right out of them. I suppose I'll take my
chances.
Destry Rides
Again is based on the book by the popular fiction author Max
Brand (pen name for Frederick Faust). Brand wrote hundreds of stories
and novels which reveal a thorough understanding of popular genres.
One of the most enjoyable aspects of the story is the way Brand
plays with our expectations of the western genre. We expect a showdown,
deputies, a saloon fight, and machismo and we get all of them in
Destry Rides Again. Only we don't expect the showdown to
be an undignified cat fight, or the deputies to be gun-less and
Russian, or the saloon fight to be between two women, and the machismo
to be redefined as non-violent.
The film is
playful, but it also has a bit of an edge to it. Sure, the taciturn
mayor harmlessly plays checkers with himself, but he just as easily
averts justice by stacking the jury. A clever ruse cheats a man
at poker where he loses the deed to his farm. Frenchy begins her
relationship with Destry in comical fisticuffs and ends it in endearing
friendship.
The director
George Marshall balances the humor with the edge. The film keeps
a light tone and clips along with the pace of a comedy. Only occasionally
do the more poignant moments keep the mayhem from being too insignificant.
A good example of that is when Destry encourages Frenchy to help
him in his cause for justice. "I'll bet you kind of have a lovely
face under all that paint," he tells her. "Why don't you wipe it
off some day and have a good look. Figure out how you can live up
to it." She throws him out only to got to a mirror and remove the
heavy lipstick with contemplation. Frenchy has hidden the kind of
person she really is under the makeup of a music hall singer. She
has abandoned her best self. But, she's not the only one.
Boris, a Russian
drawn to the old west, complains about being forced to take his
wife's dead husband's name. He wants to be his own man. But, when
it comes right down to it, he is trying too hard to be a "cowboy".
Somewhere between the Russian who met all the kings of Europe and
the cowboy Callahan is the true Boris. He finds himself not in the
saloon at the poker table, but as a deputy helping Destry in is
unusual hunt for justice.
Destry also
searches for his best self and he doesn't even know it. He has abandoned
guns and the showdown. "Pa did it the old way," Destry says. "I'm
going to do it the new way." As one of the most legendary of the
quick-draws, Destry's father misplaced his trust in the protection
of his guns when he was shot in the back. Instead of the law of
the jungle, he would advocate the rule of law, even to the exclusion
of any force whatever.
Destry knew
that something had to be done. Bottleneck could never be "cleaned
up" with guns. One showdown always led to another. Dueling simply
raises a man's machismo until men must remove each other to prove
their masculinity. Nothing proves that point more directly than
the disappearance of Sheriff Keogh, or by the death of Destry's
father. "You shoot it out with 'em," Destry said,
And for some
reason or another, I don't know why, they get to look like heros.
But, you put 'em behind bars and they look little and cheap. The
way they ought to look. That serves as a warning to the rest of
them to keep away.
Even the villains
of Hollywood's old west need to be treated as they truly are, heartless
criminals that belong behind bars, not heros who stand or fall by
the fastest draw.
Men in Bottleneck,
however, don't tend to allow sheriffs to walk them to jail without
a fight. And a fight is hard to win when the villains are armed
and the sheriffs are not. Destry demands that the rule of law prevail,
but ultimately he must enforce the rule of law with violence or
at least the threat of violence. He must put on his guns. Destry
doesn't fall from his ideals when he does so. When the rule of law
is flouted by violence, it must be defended or abandoned. Somewhere
between the gun slinging tough as nails father and the pacifist
son lies the most successful Destry.
Even still,
when Destry picks up his guns, he opens himself to the same fate
as his father. Indeed, he nearly falls the same way, and would...
No, I can't tell you that part. It would ruin the film for you.
In any case, Destry's success has to do with his success as a person
first and as a lawman second.
Trying to rid
ourselves of the obstacles to our best selves is not easy or expeditious.
Destry knew this. After all, he knew a guy who collected postage
stamps because "one good thing about a postage stamp is that it
sticks to one thing 'til it gets there."
Click
here to sign up for Meridian's FREE email updates.
© 2001 Meridian
Magazine. All Rights Reserved.
|
