SHENANDOAH: Blu-ray (Universal, 1965) Kino Lorber
James Stewart struggles to retain his rugged
individualism against the resplendently thought-numbing backdrop of the
American Civil War in director, Andrew V. McLaglen’s Shenandoah (1965) –
one of the finest examples of the introspective ‘western’ – with its sometimes,
thorny protagonist, Charlie Anderson exercising his conscientious objections to
the war for war’s sake – even if valor is to be measured in hard times and by
the blood of its men spilled on distant fields. Important to note, the
Shenandoah valley, nicknamed ‘the breadbasket of the south’ was of vital
importance during the war between the states. Lincoln’s armies launched two
major offensives to claim it, thereby cutting off the south’s sustenance; the
first campaign in 1862, then again, two years later, in 1864, the year in which
this movie is set. After six of the
bloodiest battles yet waged on southern territory, Yankee General Sheridan
defeated General Earley, resulting in a scorched earth policy against the rebel
classes, leaving much of the region decimated for years yet to come. Some 56-years
since its theatrical debut, Shenandoah will break your heart. James
Stewart’s every man, weathered and crotchety, still ailing from a broken heart
over the loss of his beloved Martha, nevertheless refuses to surrender his
conscience or his opinions to those who would seek to silence or crush it for flying
in the face of their smug moral superiority. The picture, expertly scripted by proud
Southerner, James Lee Barrett (who left us much too soon, age 58 in 1989) also
contains some of the best nuggets of wisdom about the proper way to love, honor
and cherish our significant others, Charlie’s slyly astute observations
imparted on Sam (Doug McClure), the stout-hearted, but intellectually naïve love
interest for Charlie’s only daughter, Jennie (the rather placid and ineffectual
Rosemary Forsyth). Come to ask for Jennie’s hand, Sam is given a scholarly rebuttal
in the clear-eyed pursuit of his romantic interests. When Sam professes to love
Jennie, Charlie instead inquires if yet he ‘likes’ her. “There's some
difference between lovin' and likin'…You see, Sam, when you love a woman
without likin' her, the night can be long and cold, and contempt comes up with
the sun.” This prudence is later followed up by an even more clairvoyant reflection
on the subtle emotional differences between men and women that, nevertheless,
can put a significant strain on any relationship. “(Women) expect things
they never ask for,” Charlie explains, “…and when they don't get them,
they ask you why. Sometimes they don't ask... and just go ahead and punish you
for not doing something you didn't know you were supposed to do in the first
place.”
It goes without saying movies are a product of their
time. Yet, in reflecting on Shenandoah today, it seems far more a
byproduct of the Eisenhower fifties, one clearly reimagined by Barrett’s own
antiwar bent against America’s involvement in the Vietnam conflict, then bubbling
to the surface. Behind the scenes, this kismet would be even more heartfelt as
Stewart, a decorated WWII bomber pilot, who also flew as an observer on a
mission in Vietnam, would – like his fictional counterpoint, suffer the loss of
his own stepson to the cause on June 8, 1969; ironically, almost four years to
the day of Shenandoah’s world premiere. Viewed today, the weakest part
of the picture remains its production values. For anyone who has seen more than
one movie made at Universal throughout the sixties, these stock western sets,
entirely shot on Universal City’s backlot, are very ‘old hat’ indeed. William
H. Clothier’s Technicolor cinematography is unable to conceal the brightly
colored artifice, with long-time art director, Alexander Golitzen, abetted by Alfred
Sweeney, Oliver Emert, and, John McCarthy Jr., and plate-glass mattes painted by
artist extraordinaire, Albert Whitlock, exaggerating the theatricality of the piece.
Nothing here looks lived in, especially the Anderson’s sprawling farmhouse, as
distinctly to have been ripped from the pages of a vintage ‘Better Homes and
Gardens’ than to embody the rugged homestead, hewn from back-breaking labors
put forth by an industrious and tightly-knit family of pioneers. Perhaps most
obvious of Uni’s penny-pinching measures; its decision to license whole scenes
from MGM’s lavishly appointed mid-fifties flop, Raintree County (1957)
to substitute for the battle sequences, printed as a mirror image of the
original footage shot in expansive MGM Camera-65, but herein cropped and reformatted
for Shenandoah’s spherical 1.85:1 aspect ratio.
The brothers Anderson are played with nondescript
modestly by Glenn Corbett (as Jacob) Patrick Wayne (John Wayne’s son, as James),
Charles Robinson (Nathan), James McMullen (John), Tim McIntire (Henry) and
Philip Alford (the unnamed youngest – interminably referred to as ‘Boy’). Of
noteworthy casting - Katherine Ross (in her movie debut) as James’ devoted
wife, Ann, George Kennedy (a war-weary Col. Fairchild), Hollywood’s stalwart, Paul
Fix (as Dr. Tom Witherspoon), Denver Pyle (TV’s The Dukes of Hazzard’s
Uncle Jessie, herein remade as stuffy Pastor Bjoerling), and finally, another ‘Dukes’
alumni, James ‘Roscoe P. Coltrane’ Best (as the defiant rebel, Carter, who
takes ‘Boy’ under his wing during their perilous escape from a Union prison
camp). If Shenandoah has a fatal flaw, it remains McLaghlen’s distinct
decision to generally skirt around the grotesqueness of the war. Thus, the
virtues in its storytelling are also, at least retrospectively, equally its
vices. The whole issue of slavery, the very cause for the war, is bloodlessly dispatched,
first - in a brief dinner table conversation, the emancipation given even less consideration
as the family’s devoted boyhood friend, Gabriel (Gene Jackson) awakens to the
uncertainty of his newly bequeathed future. In a brief reprise, Gabriel, now as
a Union soldier, stumbles upon a wounded Boy and, defying his rank and racism,
carries his old friend to a grassy knoll where he may escape being mowed down
by the Union cavalry in full charge. There is also some speculation made that
Boy is later under the command of General Nathan Bedford Forrest, whose
notorious exploits during the war included the total annihilation of approximately
400 surrendered union troops, as well as the torture, maiming, burning alive, and
crucifixion-styled executions of other prisoners of war. None of this makes it
into Shenandoah. Even more curiously, given its premise and setting, in
1975, Shenandoah debuted on Broadway as – wait for it - a musical!!!,
to run a whopping 1050 performances and garner Tony nominations for Best
Musical, Book and Score.
Shenandoah is set in the
Commonwealth of Virginia, circa 1864. Yet, despite the Civil War raging all
around them, Charlie Anderson and his family of six sons - Jacob, John, James,
Nathan, Henry, and Boy, daughter, Jennie and daughter-in-law Ann - remain
relatively untouched by the conflict. The echo of not-so-distant gunfire is
about all they hear. The family possesses no slaves as Charlie has raised his
brood to consider such a practice unlawful and cruel. But apart from this
philosophy, Charlie does not afford the state or its politicians any leeway in
their procurement of either supplies from his farm or to enforce conscription upon
his children to partake of the conflict. At the behest of his late wife,
Martha, Charlie agrees he and his entire family will attend weekly church
services, though they are frequently late, and much to the consternation of
Pastor Bjoering. Yet, Charlie blames God for Martha’s premature death during
childbirth and, in his nightly prayers, affords the Creator no credit for his
bounty, reminding God that it was he and his boys who carved their niche upon
the land with the sweat off their brows and through back-breaking labor.
Despite Charlie’s aversion to the war and bitterness
towards God, he has raised his family to be God-fearing Christians. Nevertheless, his eldest, Jacob desires to enlist
– a wish to remain unfulfilled and repeatedly denied by Charlie. No member of
the Anderson family will join to fight until such time as the war itself
directly concerns them. Meanwhile, Jennie is courted by Confederate officer, Sam.
After some mild grumbling, Charlie gives his permission to the couple and they
are promptly wedded. Their bliss is very short-lived, as directly following the
church service Sam is recalled to fight, leaving Jennie in her father’s care. Meanwhile
Ann, who is pregnant with James’ child, goes into labor. She delivers a healthy
baby girl the couple elect to name Martha. Charlie’s idyllic retreat is
intruded upon when Federal purchasing agents (Kelly Thordsen, John Daheim)
arrive to commandeer his horses and his sons for the cause. Claiming Virginia
needs all her fighting sons, the men are read the riot act by Charlie who
declares the state holds no ownership on his offspring. Charlie also denies the
men their authority to take his work horses for cavalry use. A fist fight
ensues between the Andersons, the agents and their posse; a conflict halted
when Ann and Jennie arrive, toting rifles, and Jennie threatens, if the agents
do not retreat immediately, she will surely shoot every last one dead.
Tragically, Boy and his friend, Gabriel become
inveigled in a Confederate ambush. Boy, have previously claimed a Confederate
cap from the river, is mistaken as a soldier by the Union army and taken as
their prisoner, leaving Gabriel to forewarn Charlie of his incarceration. In response, Charlie and his sons prepare to
make their journey to the nearby Union encampment where Boy is likely being
held. At the last moment, Jennie – disguised as a boy – is allowed to come
along, despite Charlie’s objections. This leaves James and Ann behind to tend
the farm in their absence. Alas, the search for Boy is repeatedly stifled. At
the Union camp, Charlie learns from a weary Col. Fairchild, all Confederate
prisoners have already been shipped by railroad North. Empathetic to Charlie’s
plight, Fairchild authors a note of permission allowing Charlie to reclaim his
son, if he can find him. However, at the depot, the Union Sergeant (Edward
Faulkner) disregards Fairchild’s letter and denies Charlie even the right to
examine the box cars full of prisoners. In reply, Charlie and his sons ride
ahead of the train, setting up a roadblock on the tracks and holding the Union
guards at gunpoint. Liberating the prisoners en masse, Charlie discovers Sam
among them. He and Jennie are tearfully reunited. Now, Charlie elects to burn
the train as a symbol of his own defiance against the war.
For days thereafter, the search for Boy continues, but
to no avail. The child has seemingly vanished or been lost somewhere on the
battlefields stretching hard and bloodied before them. At a remote and burned-out
cabin in the woods, Charlie sets up Sam and Jennie to share their marital bed
as husband and wife for the first time. The action shifts to Boy, a prisoner of
the Union army, about to be taken by paddle wheeler back North to a prison
camp. Boy befriends the rebel, Carter who plots a daring escape by night,
diving into the river and narrowly avoiding being shot by the Union soldiers. The
handful of escapees now plot to head deeper south, even though Boy’s home is
further north. Eventually, the rebels come upon a camp of their own soldiers
where they are provided food, water and arms to take up the cause against a
line of advancing Union soldiers. However, during this battle, Carter is shot
in the head and Boy wounded in the leg. Lying on the battlefield and sure to be
butchered along with the rest, Boy is instead confronted by Gabriel, who has
since joined the Union army. Mercifully, their friendship has not been
forgotten. Instead of putting an end to Boy, Gabriel rescues his friend from certain
death, depositing him in the underbrush where he will go unnoticed by the
advancing cavalry.
The story now shifts to the Anderson homestead where
James is met, seemingly by a loner while he is drawing water up from the well.
The man, Mule (Kevin Hagen) pretends to seek only a respite before going on his
way, but then bayonets James through his belly, calling out two cohorts from
the forest to investigate the house for food stuffs and other valuables to
steal. A terrified Ann is driven upstairs by the men and murdered. A short
while later, Charlie, Jennie and his sons come across a Confederate camp.
Tragically, a young and inexperienced picket (James Heneghan Jr.) mistakes them
for the enemy, shoots and kills Jacob. An enraged Charlie dismounts and
attempts to strangle his son’s killer, only to find an ounce of bitter
compassion left within him. He informs the picket, who is also sixteen (the
same age as Boy), his fervent desire now is that he should grow into a ripe old
age, though never without a day’s rest from reconsidering his murderous
actions. Alas, upon returning home, Charlie and his family are informed by Doc
Witherspoon of James and Ann’s demise, hinting Ann was also raped and tortured
before coming to her end. Martha, however, has survived, as Witherspoon placed
her in the care of a local woman (Pae Miller) until Charlie’s return.
Unable to make sense of his losses, Charlie attends
his wife’s grave where Ann, James and Jacob are now also buried. Quietly, Charlie’s
eulogizes his reflections about the war, “I don't even know what to say to
you any more, Martha. There's not much I can tell you about this war. It's like
all wars, I guess. The undertakers are winning. And the politicians who talk
about the glory of it. And the old men who talk about the need of it. And the
soldiers, well, they just wanna go home. I guess you're not so lonely anymore,
with Ann and James and Jacob. And maybe the boy. You didn't know Ann, did you?
Well, you'd like her. You'd like her, Martha. Why, she and James are so much
alike, they're just like... no... no... we were never that much alike, were we
Martha? We just sort’a grew alike through the years. But I wish I could just
know what you're thinking about it all, Martha. And maybe it wouldn't seem so
bad to me if I knew what you thought about it.” His thoughts are interrupted
by the church bell, recalling him to Sunday services. However, just as Pastor
Bjoerling is about to get underway, Boy stumbles into the chapel on a crutch
having, somehow – miraculously – survived his ordeal. A grateful Charlie
embraces his son as the congregation begins to sing.
Shenandoah is a poignant,
tenderly affecting and emotionally satisfying familial saga that never tests
the boundaries or even dares, for the most part, to expose the actual
brutalities of its Civil War backdrop. The Anderson’s personal plight is front
and center, yet in hindsight, hermetically sealed from this conflict, if not its
tragic fallout. Battle sequences throughout are brief and remarkably restrained
in their depiction of the bloody carnage. James Stewart is ideally cast as the
emotionally scarred patriarch who commands the respect of his children through
a stern, but otherwise devoted and loving nature, seeking only the fulfillment
of their happiness, having long ago sacrificed his own. Stewart’s Charlie
Anderson is an ‘old salt’, chronically to chomp on his cigar, yet endowed with Stewart’s
unique and appealingly grizzled warmth to have made him a beloved of Hollywood
for more than 50 years. Given, not only the political climate of the sixties,
but also the changing winds to afflict the picture-making biz throughout the
decade, Shenandoah is rather queerly disconnected from both contemporary
strains in American life. Its social commentary (on the Vietnam war via James
Lee Barrett’s reflections about the Civil War) spring almost by accident from
Barrett’s screenplay to Charlie Anderson’s lips, relayed in homespun homilies by
James Stewart’s inimitably big-hearted acting style. Stewart truly was an
American institution by this time in his career. And, in the interim since his
death in 1997, this reputation, as the irreplaceable face of the ‘common man’
who typifies the proudest and most moral ideals of the nation has only ripened into
a golden-age reflection for both a time and a place we are likely never to
experience again. In a career of incalculable quality, Shenandoah endures
as one of Stewart’s finest moments on the screen. His Charlie Anderson,
thoughtfully aggrieved, burrows deep into our hearts.
Shenandoah arrives on
Blu-ray via Kino Lorber’s licensing agreement with Universal. Alas, the effort put
forth here is, at best, middling. It remains an ongoing consternation of mine
to review Uni’s chronic disregard to invest barely anything on any and all of
its deep catalog. ‘Asset management’ without any distinct effort to properly
curate and restore its past – and that of Paramount Pictures, which Uni
inherited via MCA, this short-sightedness is immediately apparent as soon as
the Universal logo appears on the screen. It’s the wrong logo, folks – the original
lopped off decades ago when it was briefly fashionable to re-brand ‘ancient’
product with the ‘then’ prevailing updated version. So, Shenandoah’s Uni
credit is from a late seventies/early eighties vintage. Thereafter, Shenandoah’s
image is inconsistently rendered, derived from a print master, not an original
camera negative, and sporting light speckling and other age-related dirt and
scratches throughout. Uncharacteristic for Technicolor, colors here a muted at
best. The image has a sort of unrefined clumpiness, with fine details generally
obscured, except in close-up. Yet, even then, the image is not nearly as pristine
or as crisp as one might expect. Contrast is anemic. Blacks are never black,
but deep and undistinguished tonal grey. Colors toggle between marginally
appealing, slightly faded, to garish and overly contrasted. Film grain is scrubbed,
almost to the point of being waxy and unappealing, and, there are minor hints
throughout of edge enhancement, though these never rise to an egregious level.
The 1.0 audio is adequate, though just. Extras include an 8mm short, The
Defiant Virginian, a theatrical trailer and an audio commentary from
historians, Michael F. Blake, C. Courtney Joyner and Constantine Nasr. The commentary
is solid and enjoyable. Bottom line: Shenandoah is a superior Civil War
drama, oft classified among the ‘greats’ of the 20th century. But it’s
been given short shrift here and deserves far better in 1080p. Judge and buy
accordingly.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the
best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
3
EXTRAS
1
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