This past Tuesday (September 20), Olive Films rolled out
their “Olive Signature” series with
a
re-release of the 1952 classic High Noon…but
what distinguishes this Blu-ray (and DVD) from past incarnations is its amazing
new video/audio transfer, not to mention some bodacious bonuses and extras to
enhance the home video experience.
In
addition to
High Noon, the company
has afforded the same blue ribbon treatment to another oater that’s held in
high esteem here in the House of Yesteryear:
Johnny Guitar (1954), which director Bernardo Bertolucci once
described as “the first of the baroque westerns.”
Danny Peary’s essay on
Guitar
in
Cult Movies inarguably whetted my
appetite to initially see this film, and my first opportunity arrived when it
turned up on Cinemax in the 1990s (along with
Pursued and
Force of Evil),
where it was introduced by director/movie buff Martin Scorsese.
(Scorsese’s introduction to
Guitar is one of several extras on the
Olive Signature Blu-ray.)
It’s a Western
unlike any other, loaded with subversive, radical content (it’s even more of an
indictment of the political climate in Hollywood than
High Noon) and sexual imagery that gives it a most contemporary
feel.
Guitar is also an example of what critic Andrew Sarris labeled
“Freudian feminism”; it’s unavoidable noticing that the two female characters
in the movie are far more “tougher” than their male counterparts.
The plot involves a saloonkeeper named Vienna (Joan Crawford),
who is not held in particularly high regard by her fellow townsfolk, a mob
headed up by Emma Small (Mercedes McCambridge) and wealthy rancher John McIvers
(Ward Bond).
Emma condemns Vienna for
consorting with a group of outlaws led by “The Dancin’ Kid” (Scott Brady), a
man for whom she secretly has strong feelings herself.
This alleged collusion with the Kid and his
gang is really just a smokescreen for the fact that Vienna’s establishment lies
in close proximity to a transcontinental railroad being constructed in the
area; if Vienna goes through with her plans to build a rail station she will be
a very wealthy woman indeed.
Conflict arises when Vienna hires an old flame (Sterling
Hayden) who calls himself “Johnny Guitar” to protect her interests; unbeknownst
to anyone else, Johnny is actually an ex-gunslinger named Johnny Logan.
During the course of the movie, Vienna finds
herself accused of helping the Kid stage a bank robbery (one of the Kid’s
minions lies about her participation in a futile attempt to escape a lynch mob)
and is forced to take it “on the lam” with Johnny.
Johnny
Guitar concludes with the anticipated showdown between Vienna and Emma, and
presumably Vienna and her Guitar man will be free to pursue a life of marital
fulfillment.
My enthusiasm for
Johnny
Guitar is such that I selected it as the topic of my sermon during the
Classic
Movie Blog Association’s Fabulous Films of the 50s blogathon
in
May of 2014…so if you want a more thorough examination of this fascinating
film, I implore you to click
here.
It’s a movie that without question demands
multiple viewings in order to take in all of its sly subtext (for example, the
way the various characters’ wardrobe colors comment on their motivations).
It also helps to know the fascinating
production history of the film; sure, Joan Crawford’s Vienna and Mercedes
McCambridge’s Emma square off against one another in
Guitar…but the two actresses tangled off-screen as well (Joanie was
jealous of her younger co-star—a sentiment expressed to any ingénue who
appeared in a movie with Joan).
There
was no love lost between the male (Hayden) and female (La Joan) stars, either:
“There’s is not enough money in Hollywood to lure me into making another
picture with Joan Crawford,” Hayden purportedly remarked after his experience.
“And I
like
money.”
Because
Johnny Guitar
was filmed in what Republic Pictures labeled “Trucolor”—a more economical
alternative to Technicolor—the movie was the victim of severe fading over the
years until it underwent significant repair in the 1990s.
The new 4k restoration featured on the Olive
Signature Blu-ray only highlights the film’s dazzling color scheme, making it
sparkly as all get out.
Accompanying the
disc is a first-rate essay (“
Johnny
Guitar: The First Existential Western”) contributed by film critic/author Jonathan
Rosenbaum (who included
Guitar on
his
list of the 100 best American films in a 1998
Chicago Reader column in
response to the American Film Institute’s Top 100), and an audio commentary
track from Geoff Andrew (author of
The
Films of Nicholas Ray).
Of the Blu-ray’s supplementary material, my fascination with
movies that either deal directly or indirectly with the Hollywood blacklist made
me gravitate toward “Tell Us She Was One of You: The Blacklist History of
Johnny Guitar.”
Historian Larry Ceplair and blacklisted
screenwriter Walter Bernstein (
The Front)
encore on this (they do a similar mini-feature for
High Noon).
Film critics Miriam
Bale, Kent Jones, Joe McElhaney, and B. Ruby Rich are featured on “
Johnny Guitar: A Western Like No Other”
(an overview of the movie) and “Is
Johnny
Guitar a Feminist Western?”—which offers some lively give-and-take on “questioning
the canon.”
Rounding out the bonuses are
reminiscences from Tom Farrell and Chris Sievernich on working with director
Ray (“My Friend, the American Friend”—which references the 1977 Wim Wenders
movie) and another one I enjoyed (I only wish it had been longer), “Free
Republic: The Story of Herbert J. Yates and Republic Pictures,” from archivist
Marc Wanamaker (author of
Early Poverty Row Studios).
“Coveted editions of the films you know and love, Olive
Signature is our gift to the many fans, aficionados, and cinephiles who hold
these films near and dear,” a press release from Olive Films boldly
states. In the case of both Johnny Guitar and High Noon, they are among
my favorite films and most worthy of rediscovery time and time again. (Many thanks to Bradley Powell at Olive Films
for providing Thrilling Days of
Yesteryear with the Johnny Guitar screener.)
No comments:
Post a Comment