WICHITA: Blu-ray (Allied Artists International, 1955) Warner Archive

The history of Allied Artists International (AAI), the company to afford director, Jacques Tourneur the opportunity to make Wichita (1955) – their first movie in Cinemascope – is fascinating, if nearly forgotten in the era of the ‘majors’ (MGM, Warner Bros., Paramount, Columbia, 2oth Century-Fox, Universal). AAI’s humble – though ambitiously conceived beginnings, to become a more high-profile offshoot of the oft beleaguered B-grade indie, Monogram Pictures, designed to compete with the majors, was the brainchild of producer, Walter Mirisch and Monogram’s head of production, Steve Broidy. At a time when the average Monogram release was being shot for a scant $90,000, Broidy and Mirisch envisioned AAI to produce pictures on a relatively competitive budget of $800,000+. But the newly inaugurated company’s first release, It Happened on Fifth Avenue (1947) nearly broke the bank at $1,200,000 – a figure not lost on Broidy, who noted Monogram was already operating at an $850,000 deficit. Ultimately, the decision was made to shudder Monogram and concentrate on AAI, though vestiges of Monogram’s franchise film-making (its B-western unit, and, Bomba, and, The Bowery Boys, endured for a little while longer under the new banner and leadership). Broidy made Mirisch his head of production – and Mirisch quickly assembled a spate of 45 movies to begin shooting. Walter would bring in his brothers, Marvin and Harold – as heads of sales and corporate treasurer respectively – going after some of Hollywood’s heaviest hitters, including William Wyler, John Huston, Billy Wilder and Gary Cooper, to partake of the new company’s edict to make great pictures without all the executive hassle. Alas, Wyler’s Friendly Persuasion (1956) and Wilder’s Love in the Afternoon (1957), both considered classics today, were box office disappointments then, ear-marking the end of the Mirisch’s short reign at AAI. They were, however, not to be left out in the cold, creating a highly lucrative unit over at United Artists shortly thereafter.

Wichita is among the last spate of projects supervised under the Mirisch influence at AAI and, among the offerings then, it was recognized for a Golden Globe as Best Outdoor Drama. Casting 49 yr.-old Joel McCrea, a veteran of the Hollywood western, to portray a 26-yr.-old Wyatt Earp may have been a stretch. But McCrea, ever youthful, and blue-blooded to boot, nearly pulls it off. Better still, his tenure in westerns earmarked this performance with a modicum of genuineness despite a few respites into pure Hollywood hokum.  Earp’s startling materialization, he seems to hail from a puff of smoke immediately following the main titles, a speck of a man facing the distant horizon of the bustling boom town of Wichita from the edge of a vertical plummet, sets the character up as a man apart. He mounts his horse, towering over some restive herdsmen on the plains below, symbolic of Earp’s soon to follow moral conflict – a man of integrity in the face of anarchy.

From this God-like introduction of the Earp mythology, Wichita evolves into a social critique of the moral compromises made in the name of ‘progress’ and the desperate ‘civilizing’ of a typical American small town. Tourneur’s direction juxtaposes wide shots – to take advantage of ‘scope’s presentation value – with an almost claustrophobic struggle of wills. Earp’s well-made courage gets pitted against the cowmen’s purposeless instability. Earp’s ‘can’t we all get along’ desire for peaceable resolutions is immediately tested when two of these good ole boys attempt to steal his money. Rather than indulge in a typical display of steel and bullets, Tourneur shows us what Earp is really made of in a brutal hand-to-hand fight to the finish. Predictably, Earp’s moral fortitude triumphs over the crudely-hewn animalism of his foes. And yet, it is precisely Earp’s purity of heart that prevents him from blending into this crowd. Earp’s choices in life are never easily defined or even effortless won, but rather, rung from his soul with a begrudging inelegance for being the outcast - God’s lonely man riding into the final fade out. Self-doubt plagues Earp’s conscience. But propriety demands he take his stand against injustices of varying shape and kind.

Wichita’s prominent and prosperous town council could certainly use a man like Wyatt Earp – ‘use’ being the operative word. And although he initially resists the offer to become the city’s marshal, Earp eventually comes to realize the town needs his brand of reformation to truly make it ‘the place to be,’ or perhaps, the only place where he might find contentment on his terms. To this end, he diffuses one gunfight and partakes of another when desperadoes attempt an armed robbery of the bank where Earp is just trying to open a savings account. Wichita is as much about the deification of law and order as it is an illustration of the terrific price to be paid in achieving it. Earp sacrifices his forbearance to the wrath after a contingent of drunken yahoos, out to terrorize the town, inadvertently murder a young boy observing their recklessness from his bedroom window. Earp’s response – a ‘no firearms’ ordinance – pits him against the town’s affluent class, more eager to do business with this rough trade, so long as it pays handsomely and the safety of local citizenry and the law be damned.

Alas, Earp is for the little guy, even as Tourneur infers the needs of the many and the greed of a few can never be reconciled. Thus, Earp may have the citizenry on his side. But, for all their outnumbering of the graft-takers and dollar-mongers, they remain the emasculated and powerless sect. And yet, Earp has managed a minor coup here, to civilize Wichita before packing up his young bride, Laurie (Vera Miles) for new adventures in Dodge City.  In the last analysis, Daniel Ullman’s script solidifies the notion that men of Earp’s caliber are dictated to by a moral compass to do the honorable thing, to imbue this spirit of nobility in those in whom it stirs, yet often wanes, and finally, to attain the hallmarks of a true legend, despite never to desire such status at the outset. Great men do great things, not because they are challenged or thirst for fame, rather because goodness is an inescapable part of their DNA. To do anything less would be an anathema to their nature. 

Wichita is Jacques Tourneur’s foray into CinemaScope and he proves himself a master of its expansive requirements. Hans J. Salter’s score and Harold Lipstein’s stark-purposeful cinematography somehow manage to bottle the intangibles in Wyatt Earp’s nature, capitalized by Joel McCrea’s introspective performance. McCrea clearly ‘feels’ Earp in his bones and it works magnificently on the screen, creating a sort of kinetic reticence from within, for achieving the impossible when all hope has been beaten into the dust. Tourneur’s distinctive panoramas and disquieting and terse bursts of ferocity permit Earp his sort of uneasy and oft Biblical pursuit of ‘vengeance is mine.’ Earp is not the tin-starred titan of the west, but rather, a weary scrapper, desiring to elevate this stature by plying his due diligence with fists or a gun to ensure the safety of all. It’s a telling bit of exposition that, when first we meet Earp, he is a retired buffalo hunter, imbued with the adventuresome spirit of morality at the point of a pistol.  McCrea lends Earp the severity of a genuine man of the west, revolver in hand to stir order from the maelstrom and bring law to chaos.  It is a frank performance, with a subtler blend of articulacy and resignation to authenticate the ruling class of the cowboy – one who is ethically indebted to a higher ‘good’ in the presence of evil men.

Wichita arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive (WAC) in all its Cinemascope glory with uncharacteristically demure hues processed by Technicolor.  The palette here favors dusty browns, fiery reds and burnt oranges. But flesh tones are ‘bang-on’ natural. And the overall crispness of the image is startling, given early ‘scope’s’ shortcomings. Contrast – check. Fine detail – double check. A light smattering of film grain looking very indigenous to its source – triple check and thank you!  Odd for Wichita to favor a 2.0 DTS mono audio. Most ‘early’ scope product was 6-track Westrex stereo. Perhaps, AAI was merely cutting corners. None of it shows here. The sound mix is clean and solid. Now, for the real disappointment – NO extras, save a pair of animated shorts featuring the beloved sad sack, Droopy. Bottom line: Wichita is a forgotten western for most that deserves far more consideration than it has been given. Though time has not been kind to its reputation, WAC has been exceedingly generous in remastering this one in 1080p.  A good, solid flick with a great-looking transfer. Very highly recommended!

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

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

1