William Wyler was an unusual director, in that he made many hits and I've seen nearly half his body of work, yet I can hardly characterize his style. He did mostly drama, with perhaps greater overall emphasis on women than
other directors did, but could excel in multiple genres. That explains why I keep forgetting -- completely -- which movies he directed, even after reviewing two of them on this blog.
In this case, I think I was drawn in less by the credit to Wyler and more by the plot summary. Based on a book by Jessamyn West, it details the Birdwells, a family of five Quakers in rural Indiana during the War Between the States. Their faith solidly supports abolitionism but forbids fighting in its name, or even in self-defense. But several factors weaken their convictions during the story, and not just regarding violence. Eliza (Dorothy McGuire), the mother, remains the most devout and thus the most upset by the changes, while father Jess (Gary Cooper) and elder son Josh (early Anthony Perkins) face building pressure to take up arms. Yeah, that's kind of a running theme in Cooper's acting career.
Simple and unsubtle? You bet. What do you expect from '50s cinema? Apparently, they cut a lot from the book. Nevertheless, there are conflicting ideas on whether the message is anti-war or, as was the common objection at the time, pro-war. Incidentally, screenwriter Michael Wilson was blacklisted; make of that what you will. I for one perceive neither message, only that pacifism and other strict Quaker ideals are hard to follow, especially around non-Quakers. Which is no doubt correct.
Oh, my above summary doesn't describe the other two family members. Mattie, Josh's slightly younger sister, serves mainly to have a side arc about falling in love...with a soldier. Little Jess, the much younger brother, actually narrates the opening but no other part. It's rather deceptive in that regard, but the focus is pretty evenly distributed around the family.
And just what temptations do they face besides war? Well, they nearly all come to the fore in a single scene, set at a fair: gambling games, dancing, wrestling, and instruments for sale. I had no idea that Quakers could be so resolute against the use of organs for spiritual hymns. But lest you think that that scene triggered everything else, know that every Birdwell's first appearance made it clear that they fell short of perfect obedience, with the possible exception of Eliza. For example, Little Jess unrepentantly threatens to kill pet goose Samantha for, y'know, goosing him time and again. And his dad is clearly a man first and foremost, eager to race a neighbor's carriage to church despite passengers' protests.
I wonder (and cannot readily find out) how genuine Quakers feel about this film. Maybe they consider it biased against their tenets. Maybe they're unsatisfied with the authenticity, between awkward casting and minor mistakes like using "thee" as a plural. Maybe they feel exoticized to the point of insult. Or maybe they're happy to see the subject covered at all.
Whichever, despite a modest contemporary reception, it now enjoys high popularity among viewers as a whole. Count me among the fans. It's a fun piece of technicolor drama that, for all its simplicity, might just get you thinking.
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