When it comes to the Western film genre, one needs to be aware of Stagecoach (1939).  So important is it, in fact, that I am surprised it did not appear on the list of the 100 Greatest American Movies of All Time as compiled by the American Film Institute (AFI).  One could surmise that its negative depictions of native peoples are why the AFI did not include it.  None of the examples it does discuss feature any extensive screen time for Native Americans.  Yet, today’s piece focuses on one that has a lot of native peoples in it, and still has been recognized by the Library of Congress for preservation in their National Film Registry.  I might have to start working my way through that catalog.  Standby.  For now, please enjoy this review of a motion picture that features the first time two giants worked together: director John Ford and star John Wayne.

The conveyance knowns as the Stagecoach pulls into the town of Tonto in the Arizona Territory bound for Lordsburg, New Mexico.  It’s driver, the perpetually put upon Buck (Andy Devine), tells his four passengers that they have some time before they leave again while he changes out horses.  Of those who had been riding along, the one with which we spend time is Lucy Mallory (Louise Platt), who is traveling to reunite with her husband in the army.  The otherwise sleepy town is abuzz with news.  The first is the report of the activities of the infamous Apache war chief Geronimo (not pictured).  This puts everyone on alert, particularly Buck, who enlists the help of a United States Cavalry patrol in order to make it on the next stage of their journey.  The other cause célèbre is the escape from jail of the famous outlaw the Ringo Kid (John Wayne).  Learning of this development is Sheriff Curley (George Bancroft), who inserts himself next to Buck on the coach, literally riding shotgun.  Lucy is joined in the passenger compartment by an odd assortment of individuals. There is a prostitute named Dallas (Claire Trevor) who is essentially being ordered out of town by a group of concerned citizens who no longer want her trade; the alcoholic Doc Boone (Thomas Mitchell), who appears to run out of customers because of his drinking; Hatfield (John Caradine), a former Confederate turned gambler who takes somewhat of a creepy interest in Lucy; and the nervous Peacock (Donald Meek), a whiskey salesman in whom Doc Boone takes an obvious interest.  On the way out of town, they are joined by Gatewood (Berton Churchill), who is full of bluster about business, but is absconding with his bank’s funds.  The trip gets off to an easy enough start until they are stopped in their tracks by the Ringo Kid.  His horse came up lame and he had been waiting for someone else to find him.  Sheriff Curley is sworn to bring the man to justice, but he finds a compliant Ringo Kid.  The outlaw had busted out when he heard that Luke Plummer (Tom Tyler) and compatriots had murdered the Ringo Kid’s father and brother.  The coach is on its way to Lordsburg, and that just so happens to be where Luke and his friends are hiding out.  This is the situation until they get to their first stop, a cavalry outpost called Dry Fork, and where Lucy had hoped to find her husband.  Given recent troubles with the Apache, the soldiers have gone ahead.  Those same reports of hostility have Buck wanting to turn around, but he is outvoted by the rest.  It is also while pausing for a meal here that we see the Ringo Kid taking a shine to Dallas, especially when she is treated snobbishly at the table.  Finally, the squadron that escorted them to Dry Fork has orders to go in a different direction.  As such, they part ways outside the outpost.  Luckily, this next leg of the trek goes by relatively smoothly until they arrive at the next waypoint, Apache Wells.  Not only is Lucy’s husband nowhere to be found here, she receives word that he has been wounded.  The shock of this sends her into labor.  Despite her social standing, Dallas throws herself into helping Doc Boone deliver the child.  Seeing her true qualities, the Ringo Kid asks Dallas to marry him, inviting her to his ranch on the other side of the border.  I am not sure what border that is, but whichever it is, the Ringo Kid’s land is on the other side of it.  Though she thinks herself tarnished by her former life, and does not immediately accept, she does plead with him to escape.  This is in the process of happening when Sheriff Curley catches up to the Ringo Kid as he spots signs of the Apache in the nearby mountains.  With this warning, despite Lucy’s still delicate condition, they load everyone in the coach, arm those who can shoot, and make a break for it.  The coach’s horses are being driven to their max while the passengers do their best to fight off their Native American attackers.  In the course of their dash, Buck and Peacock are wounded.  So too is Hatfield, mortally so, and is about to shoot Lucy with his last bullet, not wanting to see her killed by the Apache, but dies before doing so.  Like I said, creepy.  Just when it seems all is lost, here come the United States Cavalry again, who escort the coach the rest of the way into Lordsburg.  Once there, it is time for the Ringo Kid to be taken back into custody.  Yet, because of his meritorious service to the group’s survival, Sheriff Curley gives the outlaw back his gun to confront Luke’s little posse.  After getting a confession of love from Dallas, the Ringo Kid gets his revenge.  Following this, Sheriff Curley allows the soon-to-be newlyweds to ride off into the sunset.

In terms of a Catholic analysis of Stagecoach, my first thought is mentioning the moment during the climactic chase when the camera has a tight shot of Lucy’s face as she mouths a silent prayer.  As I mentioned in my review of The War of the Worlds (1953), there are no atheists in the fox hole, or the coach under attack by the Apache.  This is the only real mention of faith in Stagecoach.  Nonetheless, the character that interested me most was Dallas.  She reminded me of the woman caught in adultery, which tradition tells us was Mary Magdalene.  She is a person from the Bible that is spoken of a great deal despite the somewhat obscure nature of her characteristics.  Whatever they are, like Dallas, she is a person who the rest of society spurns.  In Mary’s case, they are about to stone her for her sexual misconduct.  While I am not comfortable with comparing Jesus to the Ringo Kid, they nevertheless intervene on the side of the accused in the moment of the women’s public humiliation.  For Mary, it is to underscore that the people that are about to murder a sinner are all sinners themselves.  For the Ringo Kid, though the specific circumstances are different, his gesture still reminds those turning their noses up at Lucy have their own problems.  Lucy appears alone and friendless, but Gatewood is a thief, and Hatfield is a gambler and former rebel.  The classic argument is to not judge other so harshly.  Jesus elsewhere, as in Matthew 7:5, highlights the folly of those who see the faults of others but remain blind to their own as hypocrisies.  We should be careful about how we look at others in general.  As with the Ringo Kid, too, that person could prove to be all right after all.

Stagecoach may be a classic by some standards, and I will acknowledge the quality of Ford’s direction overall.  At the same time, I found it lagging in places, especially as they plodded along from point to point.  Also, as said before, the depictions of native peoples are not great.  If you could watch this one up until we finally meet the Ringo Kid and shut it off after, that could be worth your while.  Or just watch the iconic shot of his reveal on YouTube and skip the rest.