THE SONS OF KATIE ELDER: Blu-ray (Paramount, 1965) Paramount Home Video

 The inklings of an unconventional revenge/tragedy help elevate director, Henry Hathaway’s The Sons of Katie Elder (1965) from the usual western milieu. The picture is one of producer, Hal B. Wallis’ super-productions, in a career populated by such legendary and diverse fare as The Charge of the Light Brigade (1937), The Adventures of Robin Hood (1939), This is The Army (1943), Sorry, Wrong Number (1948), King Creole (1958), Blue Hawaii (1961), Becket (1964) and True Grit (1969) – to scratch but the surface of Wallis’ formidable tenures at Warner Bros. and Paramount. In 1942 alone, Wallis was responsible for Warner’s Casablanca, Yankee Doodle Dandy, Kings Row, and Now, Voyager – virtually all of the megahits of the season. And to suggest Wallis ate, drank and dreamed the movies in his sleep is to merely pay him a modest homage that reeks of incredulity for his master hand in the shaping of some iconic performers of the mid-20^th century. Wallis’ legendary career really deserves a more invested going over than is possible in any one movie review. Suffice it to say, he was one of Hollywood’s most prolific picture-makers with an enviable slate of credits, half of which would have made the bones of any other producer toiling in Tinsel Town. The Sons of Katie Elder has long since been regarded in that top-tier of Wallis’ best, from his winding down period – Wallis, in effect, to hang up his spurs after 1975’s Rooster Cogburn – another high-water mark in the career of its star, John Wayne.

Wayne’s towering presence figures prominently in The Sons of Katie Elder, though arguably, not as the hero of the piece. Indeed, Wayne’s alter ego, John Elder – the eldest of the Elder brothers, is a notorious gunslinger, so renown and feared, he cannot even attend the funeral of his late mother, except to observe from a neighboring hillside. John Wayne’s movie-land persona had decidedly transgressed to the other side of stoic goodness by the time The Sons of Katie Elder went before the cameras. Indeed, the western genre too was no longer considered the adventurous/escapist backwater where whisky-voiced saloon singers cavorted with brawny cowboy types between barroom brawls and climactic showdowns with nondescript, and perennially blood-thirsty red skins.  Even so, the William H. Wright, Allan Weiss and Harry Essex screenplay is rather circumspect about its Shakespearean trappings. This isn’t a movie that ends in a blaze of glory and triumphant flourish for our star. There is a blaze, but it is arson, perpetrated by Wayne’s monument to vigilante justice; John Elder snuffing out the man who besmirched his family’s name, resulting in the cold-blooded murder of one brother, Matt (Earl Holliman), and near death of the remaining two; embittered, Tom (Dean Martin) and, fledgling, Bud (a role slated for ex-Disney alumni, Tommy Kirk before a bust for marijuana resulted in his being replaced by an ineffectual Michael Anderson Jr. instead).

The Sons of Katie Elder is an example of Wallis’ daring to achieve something different within the time-honored cliché of the stoic ‘frontier family’, steadily to erode the principles by offering a more mature back story. Katie Elder, whom we never meet, but whose presence permeates this picture, felt in the beating hearts of her four reluctant offspring, emerges as the invisible forcefield, driving the motivations of this psychological western beyond its mere revenge/tragedy trappings. The Elders are ashamedly reunited only after their mother’s burial, and even then, are a disparate brood, chronically conflicted and out of sorts, almost to the bitter end. Director, Henry Hathaway establishes some palpable animosity here between the Elder ‘boys’ – relying primarily on John Wayne’s caustic and sober sense of male pride, ably abetted by Dean Martin’s frustrated menace. Wayne and Martin had previously appeared together in 1959’s Rio Bravo, as more amicable, trademarked western protagonists for director, Howard Hawks. In The Sons of Katie Elder, their alter egos are at each other’s throats – invested only superficially in the welfare of their youngest, Bud, already demonstrating his penchant to follow in their footsteps with a bit of petty larceny, certain to land him in jail or, at least, in some very hot water.

Screenwriter, William H. Wright was inspired by Glenn Shirley’s 1953 account of the ‘Life of the Marlows’ and paid the survivors of the Marlow family each $1,000 to secure the rights for a film based on their family saga. Although Talbot Jennings would eventually be credited with the script, Wright contributed much to the eventual narrative. Yet, this bore only a passing resemblance to its source material. The real Marlow Brothers bear closer reflection - George H., Boone, Alfred, Lewellyn, and Charles. Boone, Alfred, and Lewellyn were all killed, Boone later reincarnated in this movie as Tom Elder – who survives his wounds. The real Boone was actually a wanted man for the murder of James Holstein – a hired gun sent to intimidate settlers off their land. The Marlows were later accused of horse thievery. Alas, mistakenly to have shot Sheriff Marion DeKalb Wallace, Boone fled, leaving his brothers to face the music. As Wallace was beloved by the townsfolk, a mob rallied to avenge his murder. Nevertheless, the Marlows were successful at warding off their attack.

Deputy Tom Collier, along with a small contingent of law men, then decided to relocate the Marlows, already in custody, for trial. But their wagons were ambushed by a posse loyal to Wallace with Collier’s complicity. Alfred and Lewellyn were shot dead in the attack. But George and Charles escaped to their mother’s house, barricading themselves until the arrival of a U.S. Marshal from Dallas. Meanwhile, Boone, staying with his girlfriend and her family, was poisoned by the girl’s brother who later pretended to shoot the corpse in order to collect the bounty on Boone’s head. As the charge of horse thievery proved unfounded, Charles and George were both acquitted and later became deputies themselves in Colorado. And although formal charges were brought against Collier and his men for the false indictments against the Marlows and murders of Alfred and Lewellyn, only a handful responsible for the conspiracy were ever brought to trial, virtually all getting off with a mere slap on the wrist. As for Collier, he succumbed to typhoid fever while in jail.

In its early stages, it looked as though The Sons of Katie Elder would follow the exploits of five brothers on a cattle drive from Texas to Colorado, Paramount buying up the property outright and assigning producer, Sam Briskin to hone the reins. The studio also hoped to have John Sturges direct and Alan Ladd (who still owed Paramount a movie) star, after an absence of some years. Alas, kismet intervened. Noel Langley began rewriting the script. But Ladd did not want to make another picture for Paramount and bought out the remainder of his contract for a cool $135,000. The tragic death of Ladd from an overdose in 1964 prevented the star from ever appearing on camera again. From here, Wallis picked up the rights, promptly announcing his intensions to build the movie as a showcase for Dean Martin. The details here are more than a little sketchy as to why Martin eventually fell into second position on the project. Perhaps the elixir of having John Wayne instead proved too good to pass up. But production hit another snag when Wayne announced he was diagnosed with lung cancer; the schedule, delayed from Sept. 1964 to Jan. 1965, allowing for his ‘recovery’ from surgery – the removal of one lung and two ribs. Refusing to allow a stunt double to perform in his stead, Wayne narrowly avoided contracting pneumonia during the sequence that required him to be dragged through a frigid river.

Much of the picture was shot on location in Durango, Mexico, with the exception of the main titles, photographed on the legendary Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad in Colorado. The train depot too is out of sequence, located in Perkinsville Arizona, and familiar to anyone having seen MGM’s mammoth western spectacular, How the West was Won (1962), also co-directed by Henry Hathaway. The working relationship between Hathaway and John Wayne proved so fruitful, Wayne sought out Hathaway to direct him in True Grit (1969) - that movie, also playing host to ‘Katie Elder’ alumnus’s, Strother Martin, Dennis Hopper and Jeremy Slate. As an interesting aside, the name, Katie Elder was one of several used by Mary Katherine ‘big nose’ Horony Cummings, the occasional companion of gunfighter, Doc Holliday – a superficial film reference at best, since the real Cummings lived until 1940, thus rendering the deceased Katie Elder in this movie of no relation. The final bit of central casting proved to be composer, Elmer Bernstein – no stranger to scoring westerns, with memorable themes for The Magnificent Seven (1961) and The Comancheros (1961).

Bernstein would follow up this movie with further contributions to the genre (The Hallelujah Trail, 1965, Return of the Seven, 1966, The Scalphunters, 1968, and Guns of the Magnificent Seven, and, True Grit - both in 1969). And although iconic from its first few bars, Bernstein’s main title for The Sons of Katie Elder is a tad perplexing – a big and boisterous fanfare, accompanied by images of a locomotive barreling past the Colorado River. As none of this has anything to do with the movie we are about to see, almost immediately, Bernstein’s compositions settle into a more intimate and subtler orchestration with barely a glimmer for that adventurous outdoor spirit usually ascribed the American west.  Interestingly, Bernstein, along with composer, Ernie Sheldon wrote a song entitled ‘The Sons of Katie Elder’ sung by Johnny Cash, though never featured in the film, but proving a solid ‘single’ for Cash nonetheless.

The plot of The Sons of Katie Elder begins in earnest as three of the adult sons, Tom, Bud and Matt, of the newly deceased title character await the noonday train for the arrival of their eldest, John – an infamous professional gunman. Alas, John is not aboard, and, the boys reluctantly attend their mother’s burial in bitter silence, unaware John is already perched on a neighboring hillside, quietly observing the ceremony from a distance. Later, John reunites with his brothers at their late mother’s homestead; the brood, reminiscing how each has failed to live up to Katie’s high moral expectations. Mary Gordon (Martha Hyer) arrives with food for the brothers, not out of any loyalty to them, but because she made Katie a ‘death bed’ promise to be kind to them in her absence. The townspeople and new Deputy Sheriff, Ben Latta (Jeremy Slate) are highly suspicious of the Elder boys, particularly, John and Tom. However, Katie’s sterling reputation in the community precedes, as she lived the life of a pious, and seemingly penniless widow after the death of her husband and without any help from her sons, who now feel a sense of lingering guilt and responsibility to do right by her legacy. Indeed, it was Katie’s final wish her youngest should attend college.

Meanwhile, Morgan Hastings (James Gregory), a gunsmith and rising entrepreneur, has claimed ownership of the Elders’ ranch, presumably to have won it in a poker game against their father, Bass, later murdered by an unknown assassin. Outwardly concealing his acrimony, Hastings secretly hires gunslinger, Curley (George Kennedy) to put a period to the remaining Elders. The Elders, however, are no fools and begin to suspect Hastings of their father’s death. To stir the town’s already brewing dissention against the Elders, and cover his own tracks, Hastings murders the well-loved Sheriff Billy Wilson (Paul Fix), the one man who empathizes with the family. Hastings then frames the brothers for this crime. Tom, John, Bud and Matt are arrested, shackled and taken from their cell, presumably to be brought to trial in a neighboring town where the mounting animosity against them will not result in a mob lynching. Alas, the transport is yet another set-up by Hastings, who has influence on the many accompanying deputies – all except Ben, who is quite unaware they are in for an ambush. Hastings, his son, Dave (Dennis Hopper) and Curley await the deluge from a craggy hillside. Mercifully, John suspects a plot afoot, taking refuge along with his brothers beneath a bridge moments before the countryside erupts in a hailstorm of gunfire.

Realizing he has been fooled into accepting the Elder’s guilt, Ben offers to help protect them. Instead, he is executed by Hastings, leaving no doubt in John’s mind the wily gunsmith also murdered their father. Given Hastings orders, Curley tosses a lit bundle of dynamite under the bridge. And although John, Tom and Bud manage to escape the explosion by diving into the water, Matt is impaled by a wooden projectile of debris, dying in John’s arms. Determined to avenge his brother, John instructs Tom and Bud to confiscate pistols and rifles from the neighboring buckboard. Now, the surviving members of the clan hold off their attackers. John shoots Curley dead, causing the remaining deputies to flee. Only then, is it discovered Bud is severely wounded and in need of medical care. Riding back into town – and certain death – John takes the local blacksmith hostage, ordering him to free them from their shackles, and also demanding Doc Isdell (Karl Swenson) tend Bud’s wounds in the adjacent barn. Sometime later, Tom elects to sneak off on his own and confront Dave who, having been assaulted by his own father, is now more fearful than ever the truth will come out.

Taking Dave at gunpoint, Tom is shot in the back by Hastings. Tom manages to get Dave back to the barn where he is interrogated by John. Alas, the boy will give up nothing. Nevertheless, fearful, Hastings shoots his own son to prevent a confession; Dave, dying with no loyalty left for his father, telling everything to John, and, in the presence of the acting Sheriff Harry Evers (Sheldon Allman). Exonerated of their crimes, John valiantly goes after Hastings, isolating him inside his own gun shop, loaded with stores of gun powder. Unable to snuff Hastings out, John shoots at the volatile powder kegs instead. As the townsfolk look on, the storefront and everything inside it is incinerated in a hellish fireball. As this execution is deemed righteous by Evers, John is free to leave the scene of the crime, and, is taken by Mary to her home where Doc Isdell is attending Bud and Tom’s wounds. So, we are told, both will live to see another day. As John follows Mary, the camera settles on a close-up of the rocking chair that belonged to Katie Elder, a present from her late husband and her most prized possession.

The last act of The Sons of Katie Elder is strangely less than satisfying. While the strengths of the picture – its superior cast, exceptional location work, and Elmer Bernstein’s score offer a tapestry of enviable riches to enliven the tale, the screenplay occasionally wallows in too much introspection of the psychologically mislaid ilk. Why the Elders behave as they do, becomes the focus of our story about midway through this revenge/tragedy, leaving the motivations of baddie, Morgan Hastings, out in the cold. No kidding, Hastings has to be one of the most cardboard cutout villains ever featured in a western – his insidious greed, knowing no bounds, even to the point of murdering his own son to keep his ugly secrets buried.  Although the picture was wildly popular with audiences in 1967, its reputation today has slipped marginally, and comparatively, in the pantheon with other westerns in general and other John Wayne westerns in particular. While the genuineness of the cast remains palpable and appealing (Earl Holliman’s superb acting makes Matt’s dying moments utterly heartbreaking), the cumulative effect of the piece is more par for the course of a good solid western than an absolute standout from the rest. Cinematographer, Lucien Ballard creates some absolutely flawless rustic vistas, and, Hal Pereira and Walter H. Tyler’s production design is peerless. Yet, in the end we are left with more ennui than exhilaration, the all-too-quick dispatch of Morgan Hastings leaving us to wonder why Wayne’s John did not rid himself of this proverbial pebble in his shoe a lot sooner.  

The Sons of Katie Elder arrives on Blu-ray via Paramount Home Video. Alas, this newly minted 1080p transfer is problematically soft. But is it waxy? At times, yes. Several close-ups of Wayne and medium close-ups of the ensemble lend credence to the suspicion too much DNR has been liberally applied to homogenize the image. Colors, while generally well-balanced, occasionally are anemic. The palette favors beiges and greens, with a slightly yellowish caste to flesh. Yet, it is the subtler nuances here that are missing: the layering of textures, tints and hues we are used to seeing in big and sprawling Panavision westerns from this vintage are just not here. Age-related artifacts are not an issue. But the image is missing even a light smattering of film grain that ought to have been indigenous to this source. Contrast is adequate, but again, not exactly perfect. Overall, this is a middling effort, and so disappointing for those who had hoped for the movie’s hi-def debut to offer up something better. The 2.0 mono audio is adequate, though only just, with a hint of distortion, particularly during the main titles and action sequences. Dialogue is consistently clean, if flat and SFX have little impact beyond a muddled and grating bombast – gunfire sounding strident, yet tinny. There are no extras. Bottom line: The Sons of Katie Elder is an admirable John Wayne western, since slipped to second-tier status in Wayne’s canon of classics, which is pretty much superior to first-tier everybody else. This Blu-ray rates less than that consideration. Regrets.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

0