Stagecoach

By the late 1930s, big-budget westerns were on their way out, and none of the major studios were eager to pony up any significant amount of money to fund one, especially if it didn’t feature one of the big stars of the day. Westerns had their heyday in the silent era, but it wouldn’t be until much later that the world would once again be enamored by that genre. So when director John Ford bought up the rights for The Stagecoach to Lordsburg, a short story published in Collier’s magazine, he initially couldn’t find any studio that would give him the money to shoot it. 

Ford’s initial idea was to expand the story from its original, bare-bones plot. This would allow for a more diverse cast of characters and motivations, making for a rich and more memorable drama. This was the right intuition, and what was eventually written became so popular that it has since been remade a number of times, including a radio adaptation that incorporated The Lone Ranger and Tonto. But getting that initial film off the ground required Ford to butt heads with studios that either didn’t want anything to do with it or would bankroll it under conditions he refused to meet. One of the biggest conditions studios had was that they didn’t want John Wayne, then a relative unknown, in the lead role of The Ringo Kid. Independent producer Walter Wanger refused to fund it unless Gary Cooper got that role alongside Marlene Dietrich as the leading lady, Dallas. Ford wouldn’t budge on Wayne and, eventually, a compromise was reached that allowed John Wayne to play the pivotal role at a sacrifice of about half the requested budget for the film in total. 

The difficulties didn’t stop there, though, as filming took place in Northeastern Arizona at high elevations where the weather wasn’t cooperative, and strong winds and cold temperatures made things difficult. Consequently, some of the filming had to be done at the Iverson Movie Ranch and the RKO Encino Ranch in Southern California. These movie ranch scenes stand out like a sore thumb amongst the location scenes as landscapes and vegetation don’t match up correctly. It can be distracting from the otherwise well-produced film, especially on repeat viewings. 

John Wayne was hardly new to the scene when he was offered the role of The Ringo Kid. He’d gotten his start in bit roles, often uncredited, going as far back as 1926. His big break came in 1930 with the release of The Big Trail, a sprawling epic by Raoul Walsh that failed at the box office in large part due to the sudden onslaught of the Great Depression. Because of that film’s failure, Wayne found himself having to pick up starring roles in low-budget Poverty Row Westerns, short films that were made on a dime that made him a known commodity but not a star. It wouldn’t be until Stagecoach that he would finally break out of that mold and become the movie star he felt he was destined to be, and that was in large part due to John Ford. The two would remain friends for decades, with Wayne starring in several more of Ford’s films, mostly all Westerns. 

In Stagecoach, Wayne is playing a slightly different kind of character than he was in most of those Poverty Row films. He was playing a criminal, escaped from prison and wanted by the law. But aside from this backstory, he was still the quintessential cowboy he had been playing for nearly a decade now, complete with his trademark swagger. It was a part he was comfortable playing. That’s not to say he was coasting on autopilot here. John Wayne knew this was a big opportunity for him and he made the most of it, putting on the kind of charm and charisma that was his own unique brand. Watching him in this, much like watching him in The Big Trail, it is apparent why he became as big a star as he did. From the moment he is introduced in the picture, well into the running time, we know that there is more to his story including why he was in prison and why he broke out. He is a man who instills confidence in himself and, when he gives his word, even the law trusts him to keep it. 

As good as Wayne is, he is really just a part of an ensemble here. The story is just as threadbare as the short story is, really. A group of mostly strangers board a stagecoach on their way through hazardous Apache country, in danger of being raided by Geronimo and his fellow natives. Among the passengers is Dallas (Claire Trevor), a prostitute being driven out of town by the “Law and Order league”; an alcoholic doctor, Boone (Thomas Mitchell); the uptight southern lady Lucy Mallory (Louise Platt) who is trying to catch up to her cavalry husband; and the easily manipulated whiskey salesman, Samuel Peacock (Donald Meek) who is always being mistaken for a minister. Along for the ride is lawman Curley Wilcox (George Bancroft) who is looking for The Ringo Kid who broke out of prison to get vengeance on Luke Plummer (Tom Tyler) for murdering his father and brother. Before the stagecoach can leave town, word gets to them that Geronimo, an Apache, is on the warpath with his warriors and that a small cavalry of soldiers will escort the stagecoach for a small part of the journey to Lordsburg; the rest of the trip they are on their own. 

Much of the rest of the story follows this stagecoach from stop to stop as they get further into Apache territory and into danger. Stagecoach driver Buck (Andy Devine) gets increasingly more worried the deeper they get, and Lucy gets more and more anxious as, with each stop, she finds that her husband has moved on with the cavalry to fight in the Native American uprising. To add to her distress, she is pregnant and goes into labor at one of the stops, necessitating a longer holdover, putting all of them in further danger. The Ringo Kid finds himself falling in love with Dallas, too, and makes plans with her to put her up at his family homestead while he serves out the remainder of his sentence, assuming he survives his encounter with Luke Plummer and his gang.  

Like many Westerns of the era, this film is not kind to the Native characters, depicting them as nothing more than dumb savages. This is sadly a sign of the times and reflects the sentiments of the people of the 1930s and their mentalities towards minorities. This was still prevalent well into the films of the 1980s, with very few movies prior to that being reverent towards Native Americans and their culture. In Stagecoach, the only time we really see the Native Americans is when they storm the stagecoach, riding after them and getting gunned down by the dozens, attacking with the apparent strategy of exhausting the white men of their ammo through the sacrifice of however many of their braves it takes. This is a dumb strategy that misrepresents the way they would have gone after this stagecoach, and it makes them look like mindless animals. 

Stagecoach is a product of its time. It wowed audiences in the 30s with some amazing stunt work and an eye for camera placement that was a John Ford signature. It looks incredible and makes good use of the scenery around Monument Valley, where much of it was filmed. But it also has the sensibilities of the time, which may be problematic for certain audiences. Still, it’s a well-crafted film with colorful characters that, considering how many there are and how little time there is to develop them, are each distinct, if a little broad. It may not have fully revitalized the Western as a legitimate A-movie genre, but it got that wheel rolling again and helped usher in the second generation of big-budget Westerns. 

Academy Award Nominations:

Outstanding Production: Walter Wanger

Best Director: John Ford

Best Supporting Actor: Thomas Mitchell (won)

Best Art Direction: Alexander Toluboff

Best Cinematography - Black-and-White: Bert Glennon

Best Film Editing: Otho Lovering and Dorothy Spencer

Best Scoring: Richard Hageman, W. Franke Harling, John Leipold, and Leo Shuken (won)

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Release Date: March 3, 1939

Running Time: 96 Minutes

Not Rated

Starring: Claire Trevor, John Wayne, Andy Devine, John Carradine, Thomas Mitchell, Louise Platt, George Bancroft, Donald Meek, Berton Churchill, and Tim Holt

Directed By: John Ford