In 1939, young director John Ford made “Stagecoach,” the most influential film of the 30s.
Before “Stagecoach,” westerns were adventure tales for little boys. “Stagecoach” opened the door for westerns to become intelligent dramas for adults. The most recent great western – Tarantino’s “The Hateful Eight” – is directly inspired by it.
There was one little problem with “Stagecoach”: the Apaches are not presented as human. They are nameless, faceless antagonists who exist to torment the characters we care about.
This didn’t sit well … with John Ford. Near the end of his career, the filmmaker did his best to make up for his thoughtless portrayal of Native Americans.
“Cheyenne Autumn” takes place in 1878. It’s the true story of a small group of Cheyenne who demanded and earned America’s respect.
The US government had pushed the Cheyenne to their limit. The Reservation was a desert wasteland without adequate food or water.
The Cheyenne decided to break the law, abandon the Reservation, and make an improbable 1500-mile march north – back to their ancestral lands in the Dakota Territory.
John Ford’s heart is in the right place. He shows us how horrible it feels to be in the way. The Cheyenne are in the way of the white man, in the way of progress, in the way of commerce, in the way of history.
The film captures the hopelessness. We definitely feel sympathy for the Native Americans. However, we don’t feel empathy.
The Cheyenne characters are just victims, not relatable humans. When they speak their native language, John Ford doesn’t even grant them subtitles. What an odd decision.
But we’re probably not missing anything, because when they speak in English, the Cheyenne just look straight-ahead – stone-faced – and say something sorrowful and depressing.
Real people are eccentric. Real people chit-chat and joke around. The Native American characters in “Cheyenne Autumn” do none of that.
Young people today may find it offensive that non-Indian actor Ricardo Montalban plays Chief Little Wolf. What I find offensive is that Mr. Montalban’s awesome charisma is wasted playing a dull, colorless character.
And it’s not as if “Cheyenne Autumn” is a solemn, humorless movie. Only the Native Americans are doomed to a life without comedy.
There’s an hysterical interlude in Dodge City. The dishonest newspapers have worked the town into a frenzy. “The Cheyenne are on the loose! Grab your rifles! Hide your women!”
One man doesn’t believe the media, though. Wyatt Earp (Jimmy Stewart) is much more interested in his poker game than the hoard of Indian invaders who are supposedly on the rampage. John Ford gives us a timeless lesson: if you tune out the news, you’ll be a lot happier. And better informed.
The great Edward G. Robinson gets the best line in the movie. When he gets off his horse, he complains about how the ride has inflamed his Lumbago. He looks around. No one will commiserate with him. “Doesn’t anyone else get Lumbago?”
I’ve watched countless old westerns. This is the first time anyone has mentioned how riding horses all day is apt to be murder on the lower back. Thank you, Edward G. Robinson!
John Ford did his best, I guess. “Cheyenne Autumn” is a sincere attempt to show how awful and unfair the United States was to Native Americans. It certainly is a dramatic contrast with “Stagecoach,” where Indians are systematically dehumanized.
However, there is no avoiding this truth: “Stagecoach” is a fantastic film. And “Cheyenne Autumn” isn’t.