Duel in the Sun

Well, it's no Gone With The Wind. Selznick, again, features his wife, Jennifer Jones, in a different role than the usual wholesome roles she was expected to do. Portrait Of Jennie, Since You Went Away and Song of Bernadette. Jones has a bad habit of over-acting if allowed to do so. Example is Tender Is The Night, Man In A Grey Flannel Suit, Ruby Gentry and Love Letters. It takes a strong director to tone her down. King Vidor lost control of her in this or Selznick had too much control. Her performance consisted of a low gutteral voice and a sashaying walk. Not much else.

On the other hand, excellent supporting roles were played by Lionel Barrymore and Lilian Gish. They stole the picture in this viewer's opinion. Gregory Peck and Joseph Cotton went through the paces of what they were asked to do as rivalry brothers. But you kind of knew their hearts weren't in it. Then there was the presence of Butterfly McQueen in her usual Gone With The Wind type performance. Charles Bickford in an undistinguished role was wasted as was Herbert Marshall and Sidney Blackner [all good actors]. An impressive cast when the titles came on, but what followed was not what you wanted to see.

I got tired of seeing Jennifer Jones strutting about making faces of some indian half-breed. Boring. Oh, I liked the horse [the pinto] that she rode. He was terrific. Best to see this on video. Doesn't come off that bad. But it is a cornball western farce.

Everything about 'Duel in the Sun' is overripe: the music, the photography (those red sunsets a la GWTW), the strong emotions and the climactic duel on a blazing desert sun by the two mismatched lovers. Indeed, the excesses are almost operatic in proportion--and yet, a viewer can get caught up in this sprawling western rightly termed "Lust in the Dust" by some reviewers. The rampant sensuality of the steamy scenes between Peck and Jones are emphasized by Dimitri Tiomkin's luscious background score which becomes blistering and intense for the climactic shootout. Overproduced, overacted, overwritten--it still entertains and makes us appreciate the genius of David O. Selznick whose hand on all of the material is quite evident. Jennifer Jones was nominated for her tempestuous Pearl Chavez (but lost to Olivia de Havilland for 'To Each His Own'). Lillian Gish deserved her Oscar nomination. And last but not least, let's not forget Walter Huston, who gives the most realistic and enjoyable performance in the entire film as The Sin Killer--a wickedly funny portrayal. Weakest aspect of the film is Gregory Peck's easygoing villain--his whole performance strikes a false note and is not the least bit convincing. He and Joseph Cotten should have switched their roles--Cotten always made a more believable villain than Peck. Selznick obviously was striving to make a western on the level of GWTW--even including Butterfly McQueen for comic relief. All in all, fun to watch if you don't take any of it seriously. Not exactly a work of art--but definitely worth watching. And, oh, that ripe technicolor!

No need to recap the plot.

One thing about this overblown fandango— once seeing it, you won't forget it. How could anyone when everything is done to such tasteless excess. Poor Pearl (Jones). Apparently, Jones was told her part was that of a hot-blooded wench, which she unfortunately took to mean parboiled. It's hard not to laugh at the first hour when she acts like a nympho on steroids, tossing hair and leering wildly like pampas grass in a windstorm. Not far behind is that vintage ham Lionel Barrymore doing his usual blustery bit, like we won't get his hard-bitten patriarch unless he takes it into hyper speed. And who could have guessed that the usually constricted and constrained Gregory Peck could actually over-act. I think it was his first and last time—good thing, too.

It's possible to go on about the unrelenting excess— the sunsets that appear to hemorrhage, a musical score that's as necessary as sugar on molasses, and a loony ending that defies parody. But you get the idea. Too bad so much money and effort went into such a generally overheated result. Only Cotten, Gish and the black stallion come through unscathed. I'm thinking RKO could have made a dozen worthwhile programmers on the same budget. As things turned out, Selznick did his beloved Jones no favors with this one. It's hard to believe the man responsible for Gone with the Wind (1939) is also responsible for this swollen mess.

David O. Selznick spent the rest of his life trying to top Gone With the Wind. What other mountains did he have to climb after making the most acclaimed motion picture ever?

In addition he had another obsession, his second wife Jennifer Jones. He was going to make her the greatest leading lady in the history of film.

Well he didn't succeed at either, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Jones herself was in a peculiar position similar to her husband's. She got an Oscar for her first feature film after she changed her name from Phyllis Isley to Jennifer Jones. Selznick knew that she couldn't play saints all her life as she did in The Song of Bernadette. So for this western answer to Gone With the Wind as Pearl Chavez she plays about as opposite a character from Bernadette Soubirous as you can get.

Duel in the Sun got mixed reviews by the critics, but the public ate it up. It's the story of the McCanless family, parents Lionel Barrymore and Lillian Gish and sons Joseph Cotten and Gregory Peck. Cotten is the good son, Peck the bad one. In fact as Lewt McCanless Peck played his worst character until Josef Mengele in Boys from Brazil.

A kissing cousin of their's Jennifer Jones comes to live with them. She's the offspring of an old beau of Lillian's, Herbert Marshall and the Indian wife he ran off with back in the day. Lillian and Herbert were kissing cousins also.

As Pearl Chavez, Jen gets the McCanless boys testosterone going into overdrive. Take one look at her and you can hardly blame them.

One of the not so hidden subtexts of Duel in the Sun is racism. Jennifer's good for a quick roll in the hay, but marriage is out of the question, at least for Gregory Peck. Barrymore's and Peck's racism is overt, the others not quite so, but it's still there.

The negotiations with Louis B. Mayer for Lionel Barrymore must have been interesting. Selznick's former wife was Irene Mayer, Louis's daughter.

One thing with Selznick, he spared no expense. He got the best in talent for this film. Dimitri Tiomkin did the score, King Vidor the direction, Ray Rennahan the color photography which is absolutely stunning.

He even got Bing Crosby to record Gotta Get Me Somebody to Love with Les Paul's guitar. Peck sang it in the film, Crosby's record sold a few platters.

He even got Orson Welles to do the off-screen narration if you don't recognize that voice.

It misses being a classic mainly because Selznick couldn't keep his hands off it. Sometimes the acting is about as subtle as a sledgehammer from all the performers. I'm willing to bet it's Selznick more than Vidor.

Yet it's good entertainment and Duel in the Sun does have its moments.

This movie is like a painting by an old master that hangs in a museum--we may not be moved by it, but we can still appreciate the artistry. Its most notable feature is the director, King Vidor, master of silent film making. As you might expect, many of the important scenes have little or no dialog. In one scene between Lionel Barrymore and Lillian Gish, he rambles on about their life together, while she strains to get out of her sickbed and crosses slowly to him, the entire distance transfigured by the depth of her love for him. Gish was a great star of silent film, with a wonderful, expressive face, full of compassion and grace. In another scene that happens under quite different circumstances, Jennifer Jones crawls to Gregory Peck, the man she loves, also without words, evincing great sorrow and quiet dignity. In both cases, the women prove they are far more noble than the men who love them so badly. Jones also has a mobile face, together with a beautiful, resonant voice. No film that has these two ladies at its center should be missed. In addition, the film has two marvelous scenes that, at the time of its making, would have been just as impressive as some of today's special effects wonders: In the first, about 20 armed horsemen face a crowd of railway workers, including some chinese, clothed in authentic period dress, with a steam engine in the background. As the tensions mount, a troop of mounted cavalry, about 100 strong, ride onto the set, filmed on location (judging by the saguarros and ocatillos) in Arizona. This was a tour de force of filmmaking at a time when shooting on location was rare. In the second scene, a train under a full head of steam jumps the tracks and plows down an embankment. Filmed in early technicolor, this movie has lush exteriors and panoramas of rich desert color. Two more character actors should be mentioned, both of whom steal every scene they enter: Butterfly McQueen, the maid whose comments are both simple and profound, and Walter Huston, as the crusty sheriff who doubles as a preacher during a funeral.