But, make no mistake, the major theme of Red River is the classic Oedipal one, where the figurative son must supplant the father, and until the very end, this is the core of the film, and what pushes it well above most westerns. It is a complex film that rises above its genre, but not far enough to reach that ineffable area reserved for the greatest of artworks, even if it can legitimately make a claim to being a great western. Whether or not it would have succeeded in reaching that lofty status without the feminine element is debatable, but that the female element drags it down from unadulterated greatness is not. Now there’s a classic trope: blame it on the broads! Yeehah!
"A sinister cabal of superior writers."
Article comments
1 - Jill Henry
"...Wayne has always been credited with creating his first real villain, Ethan Edwards, a racist killer..."
Remember, when the politically correct use the term racist, they simply mean white Gentiles who discriminate.
"I hate racists" translates to "I hate honkys!"
So, to translate the first quote: "his first real villain, Ethan Edwards, a honky killer"
2 - Dan Schneider
Back on planet Earth: as I'm not PC, is it fair to say it's that time of the month, Jill?
3 - paull
Missing from this account is the history of a bracelet. Years before the movie started, Dunson inherited it from his late mother. At the film start, he leaves it as a pledge of return to Fen in the first wagon train. Then he finds it on the wrist of an Indian he has just killed. Evidently the Indian had killed Fen. In later years, he gave it to Matt. Then Matt gave it as a keepsake to Tess. This isn't accidental.
The ending scene breakup by Dru firing a hogleg is of course silly, but that's not her fault. It's a stain of 40s movie requirement -- as is the sountrack quasi-heroic male chorus. The Tiomkin music is not all that bad.
Ms Dru more than earned her place in this movie in her earlier scene in a tent with a weary travel-stained Dunson, in which she tries to get him drunk so he won't follow Matt -- Dunson has a drinking problem -- and also considers shooting him with a derringer. She offers him possibly the greatest gift of his life -- she promises to bear him a son -- if he abandons his perverse desire to kill Matt. He rejects it. Killing is better than new life; and Dunson earlier won his Texas ranch by cold-blooded murder. The tent scene was open to all kinds of scenery-chewing, and there is nothing like that in this movie. As an intelligent and worldly woman, she offers Dunson an extraordinary sacrifice, as though it's just the sort of thing a woman would do. Very high moral level in this scene, which is seldom mentioned by critics.