The Last of John Wayne

I seem to have developed a penchant for late period John Wayne films.  When I say late period, I mean those he made in the last ten years, or so, of his career, from the mid sixties to the mid seventies.  Generally speaking, these aren't the most highly regarded of his movies, but they are the ones I most associate Wayne with, probably because they were coming onto TV at a time when I was old enough to actually be watching films, rather than just being in room when they were on.  There are a couple of classics among his films of this era (True Grit and The Shootist) and at least one that is nowadays near unwatchable (the execrable Vietnam propaganda piece The Green Berets -lousy not just for its politics, but because it is also poorly made), but the majority are merely intended as action-orientated entertainments.  In this respect, they vary in their success, but are rarely less than enjoyable.  By the time he made these films, Wayne was comfortable in his screen persona as a leathery, rugged westerner (and most of the films were westerns), more than that, he looked and sounded convincing in such a role.  You believed that gunfighters and ranchers of the era were like him.  He looked somewhat less at ease playing tough cops in contemporary thrillers like McQ and Brannigan (not to mention being far too old to be playing the characters).   What Wayne also showed in several of these films was a willingness to be overshadowed by colourful co-stars, (Kirk Douglas in The War Wagon, Robert Mitchum in El Dorado or even, to an extent, Richard Boone in Big Jake).  He was even willing to gently parody his usual image in Rio Lobo, another variation on Rio Bravo, but with Wayne's character this time being the drunk, or play somewhat against type, as in True Grit, where his Rooster Cogburn is again a drunk, but this time quite mean spirited and with a shady past.

But these films didn't just mark Wayne's swansong, they also represented the last gasp of the western as a viable cinematic genre.  The truth was that the traditional Hollywood western was pretty much played out, eclipsed by the upstart Italian product which, in turn, became the main influence on future US westerns.  There was no real demand for these sorts of films, they were propelled into cinemas and box office success primarily by the presence of Wayne himself.  He still had star power, even in the seventies, sufficient to draw in audiences.  It is easy to see why - his screen presence and charisma carry these films through over-familiar plots and set pieces and often slack pacing.  Without him him, most would be, at best, average examples of the genre.  In truth, only True Grit, The Cowboys and The Shootist in any way challenge the conventions and narrative structures of the traditional western.  I was moved to contemplate this late phase of Wayne's career after watching Big Jake (1971)  this past weekend, when I needed a break from the Italian Cannibal film marathon I was otherwise engaged in.  It made me realise how many films of his from this era that I enjoyed.  Big Jake is actually a pretty typical example, with Wayne's titular character recalled by his estranged wife to rescue their kidnapped grandson.  Nothing happens that you don't expect is going to happen and everything turns out much as you'd expect.  But that's the point: it is reassuring in its familiarity.  You know that right, in the form of Wayne and his shotgun, will triumph in the end, the child will be rescued unharmed, the shattered family will be reunited and the status quo restored.

The novel aspect of Big Jake is the fact that it is set in 1909, with modernity creeping into the west: Wayne finds himself having to contend with such new-fangled contraptions as automobiles, motor cycles and self-loading pistols.  Inevitably, of course, he amply demonstrates that the traditional ways - horses, hot lead, etc - are the best way to deal with old fashioned outlaws like Richard Boone.  Sadly, the film never really develops this idea of Wayne's character being a man out of his time, fighting vainly against progress, instead rapidly settling into a more standard western format.  It is, however, beautifully shot on location in Mexico.  As I said, it is all very reassuring.  Which is undoubtedly where a lot of the appeal for me of this era of Wayne westerns comes from - we know exactly where we are with them, who the good guys are and who the bad guys are, right and wrong are clearly delineated and the ultimate outcomes never in doubt.  But even more than that, the older Wayne is a reassuring presence, monumental and apparently indestructible, you just know that he can be relied upon to see things through.  He had become like one of the rock formations in Monument Valley (one of John Ford's favourite locations); rugged, weather beaten and ever present.  It is difficult to think of a contemporary star as iconic as Wayne, (and he was a film 'star' rather than a film actor - his characterisation rarely varied, but his presence was huge).   As you get older, (and, according to some in government - not just government, actually - I'm 'elderly' to the extent that in the event of a Covid 'second wave; I'd have to 'shielded' on age grounds alone), such reassurances become more and more important as you find the constant change of the modern world increasingly wearisome.