Westerns come in several types: classic, John Wayne, John Ford, spaghetti, and ensemble. Each has its strengths and weaknesses. If a viewer is a big Clint Eastwood fan or loves John Wayne, then any film starring those men is golden. However, there is nothing wrong with this film as an ensemble western. It is incorrect to consider it a flat-out remake of its predecessor; the original was both a John Ford and John Wayne project and carried the indelible marks of both men. It was a sweeping vista of a western that focused heavily on Wayne's character, the Ringo Kid. This 1966 version doesn't sprawl across the screen. It has instead a warmer, more intimate feeling that draws the viewer into caring about the characters that inhabit it.
The characters are archetypical for a western movie. There's the fallen woman who'd love a chance at redemption (Dallas), the alcoholic doctor (Josiah Boone), tough gambler with a heart of gold (Hatfield), nervous reverend (Peacock), pregnant young lady (Mrs. Mallory), slimy guy with a secret (Henry Gatewood), tough-as-nails marshal (Curly Wilcox) and young misunderstood outlaw (the Ringo Kid). Add a shaky stagecoach driver with no nerve named Buck (how'd he get this job?) and trail perils that include washouts and hostile Indians, some very nasty outlaws called the Plummer Brothers that Ringo wants to kill, and the result could come across as a cliché of a classic western. Somehow, it doesn't. Instead, what was a big-screen extravaganza starring a larger-than-life Duke is melted down into a more balanced and less histrionic movie that is easy to enjoy on a Sunday afternoon.
The cast is well-chosen and, despite the temptation to compare them unfavorably to the original set of actors (As though this bunch is second-rate), each plays his part very well. Bing Crosby is perfect as the boozing, amiable doctor who nevertheless comes through in time of need. Young Ann-Margret sizzles on screen as the sultry-yet-sweet Dallas, who loses her heart to the outlaw who treats her like a lady when nobody else does. An also young Stephanie Powers is more than a pretty face in her portrayal of the woman who gives birth. Red Buttons is funny as Peacock and Mike Connors plays the southern gentleman gambler as well as Carradine did; he just appears less creepy. Van Heflin is great as the rugged marshal and Slim Pickens pulls off the shaky driver who keeps bawling that he wants to turn back, etc. Keenan Wynn makes a great and vile killer as the oldest Plummer. And finally, no offense to the Duke or his fans, but Alex Cord was a pleasant surprise as the Ringo Kid. His strange facial features, which are both masculine and sensitive, help him pull off the part of the oddly gentle outlaw who can kill efficiently when he has to. John Wayne's Kid was also good, but on a different level; Cord makes the man he plays incredibly sympathetic, so much so that when we watched the movie for the first time, we kept hoping he wouldn't get killed off. Wayne is great for the older version of Stagecoach and its more epic feel, but Cord fits more seamlessly into this ensemble drama. His on screen presence isn't as big but it's more natural and believable.
The movie is slightly shorter than the older one, too, coming across as more economically filmed, yet fleshes out the characters nicely into real people.
Some have different levels of good and evil within them: the amiable passenger turns out to be a mean-spirited creep; the disreputable gambler is a true gentleman at heart; the outlaw may or may not have committed the crime that has earned him his unsavory reputation; the saloon girl is surprisingly good with the baby. The characters evoke emotion, whether it be pity, dislike, disgust, or affection. In that sense, this movie succeeds.
We liked it better than the older one; it seemed fresher and faster-paced. However, if one's preference is for the more Wayne-centric western, then the 1939 version would be more to taste. However, don't be too quick to put this one down. As a John Ford saga, it didn't work, but as an ensemble drama that focused on all of its characters, the 1966 version came out fine.
We hesitated to watch it based on negative reviews and enjoyed it well enough to add it to our video collection.
The characters are archetypical for a western movie. There's the fallen woman who'd love a chance at redemption (Dallas), the alcoholic doctor (Josiah Boone), tough gambler with a heart of gold (Hatfield), nervous reverend (Peacock), pregnant young lady (Mrs. Mallory), slimy guy with a secret (Henry Gatewood), tough-as-nails marshal (Curly Wilcox) and young misunderstood outlaw (the Ringo Kid). Add a shaky stagecoach driver with no nerve named Buck (how'd he get this job?) and trail perils that include washouts and hostile Indians, some very nasty outlaws called the Plummer Brothers that Ringo wants to kill, and the result could come across as a cliché of a classic western. Somehow, it doesn't. Instead, what was a big-screen extravaganza starring a larger-than-life Duke is melted down into a more balanced and less histrionic movie that is easy to enjoy on a Sunday afternoon.
The cast is well-chosen and, despite the temptation to compare them unfavorably to the original set of actors (As though this bunch is second-rate), each plays his part very well. Bing Crosby is perfect as the boozing, amiable doctor who nevertheless comes through in time of need. Young Ann-Margret sizzles on screen as the sultry-yet-sweet Dallas, who loses her heart to the outlaw who treats her like a lady when nobody else does. An also young Stephanie Powers is more than a pretty face in her portrayal of the woman who gives birth. Red Buttons is funny as Peacock and Mike Connors plays the southern gentleman gambler as well as Carradine did; he just appears less creepy. Van Heflin is great as the rugged marshal and Slim Pickens pulls off the shaky driver who keeps bawling that he wants to turn back, etc. Keenan Wynn makes a great and vile killer as the oldest Plummer. And finally, no offense to the Duke or his fans, but Alex Cord was a pleasant surprise as the Ringo Kid. His strange facial features, which are both masculine and sensitive, help him pull off the part of the oddly gentle outlaw who can kill efficiently when he has to. John Wayne's Kid was also good, but on a different level; Cord makes the man he plays incredibly sympathetic, so much so that when we watched the movie for the first time, we kept hoping he wouldn't get killed off. Wayne is great for the older version of Stagecoach and its more epic feel, but Cord fits more seamlessly into this ensemble drama. His on screen presence isn't as big but it's more natural and believable.
The movie is slightly shorter than the older one, too, coming across as more economically filmed, yet fleshes out the characters nicely into real people.
Some have different levels of good and evil within them: the amiable passenger turns out to be a mean-spirited creep; the disreputable gambler is a true gentleman at heart; the outlaw may or may not have committed the crime that has earned him his unsavory reputation; the saloon girl is surprisingly good with the baby. The characters evoke emotion, whether it be pity, dislike, disgust, or affection. In that sense, this movie succeeds.
We liked it better than the older one; it seemed fresher and faster-paced. However, if one's preference is for the more Wayne-centric western, then the 1939 version would be more to taste. However, don't be too quick to put this one down. As a John Ford saga, it didn't work, but as an ensemble drama that focused on all of its characters, the 1966 version came out fine.
We hesitated to watch it based on negative reviews and enjoyed it well enough to add it to our video collection.