Is there a more affable, charming combination of Ford actors possible than Will Rogers, Francis Ford and yes, Stepin Fetchit? (he does some phenomenal comic work here it must be said, sorry trying to remove it.)
Throw in Eugene Palette, John Lester Johnson and Berton Churchill and you’ve got a remarkable ensemble. A group of misfits that are much like the various objects thrown into the furnace in the thrilling conclusion. A motley group that manages to get everything over…
Like a Fordian version of Renoir’s The River. An idyllic, multicoloured, multiracial melting pot. It’s no doubt a bit rich to label either film post colonial, but what makes them fascinating is how they show the Western norms being subsumed into the local customs.
Both this and the Renoir are films about belonging, and how difficult it can be for somebody trapped between the various worlds. This was a key fascination of Ford’s work in this period, and even though…
It feels so harsh to speak ill of something that is so well intentioned and which will no doubt bring so much joy to people, but I found this thing to be totally mediocre.
I still haven’t read the novel, and my only prior experience of this story comes from Gillian Armstrong’s film version, which I know a lot of fans of the book (my mother included) have issues with.
I find Armstrong’s film on its own terms to be magnificent,…
Every child who dreams of growing up to work in the movies gets dumped with the moniker of the ‘next Spielberg’. It only makes sense that the man who is so synonymous with film production should one day give us his bildungsfilm.
Much has already been said of how the trailer misrepresents this as a sappy ‘magic of the movies’ exercise. Of course, this is infinitely more interrogative of the dark power of moving images, the way they can inspire…
