punishmentpark I thought I'd try another western, by none other than John Ford, since it came by late one night on the BBC. The story is rather unusual for its time, as I understand it, and the flashback motif works pretty well with that. The (sort of) running gag with the judge and his wife was wearing a little thin at some point, though.The cast members play quite well, with Wooody Strode as the stout-hearted Sergeant Rutledge as my personal favorite. Toby Michaels (uncredited), in the role of victim Lucy Dabney, was a positive ray of sunshine, which will help the viewer rooting for any angry mob out for justice. The story stays interesting enough, even if there are no real surprises, and things stay sort of goody-goody most of the time.A good 7 out of 10.

disinterested_spectator Normally, a movie about the trial of a man accused of rape and murder would be suspenseful. But since the movie was made in 1960, and the accused was a black man who supposedly raped a white girl, it was a given that the man was innocent. About the only suspense was in whether he would be acquitted, as happened in this movie, or convicted, which is what happened in another such movie, "To Kill a Mockingbird" (1962). But that is still thin gruel, for even if Sergeant Rutledge had been white, the trial is a flop, dramatically speaking.In place of suspense or dramatic value, the movie delivers, or is supposed to deliver, a sense of moral worth, in which the audience is allowed to take pride in the way it is above racial prejudice. So, the question is, Which of the two is more important, enjoying a well-made movie that does not congratulate the audience for being so enlightened, but merely provides entertainment, or suffering through a poorly made movie just so you can wallow in a feeling of egalitarian righteousness?In its simplistic way, the movie might be on the right side of the racial issue, but it gives us a questionable treatment of women. The main female character, Mary Beecher, is a strong, independent thinking woman. Sergeant Rudledge hands her a revolver, saying she is a Western woman, implying competence with a gun, and that she will need it because the Apaches will show her no mercy. Minutes later, when a couple of Apaches attack, she shoots one of them before he can attack Rutledge.However, most of the rest of the women in this movie are a bunch of simpleminded old biddies, whose purpose in life is to be scandalized by the shameless behavior of others, obviously overprotected by their husbands. As a result, Mary and those women seem to be of totally different species, because the idea that she will become like them when she gets old defies comprehension.One of the things that scandalize these women is the behavior of Lucy Dabney, the girl who is raped and strangled. The women chastise her for riding a horse astride. But Lucy says, in front of Chandler Hubble, who we eventually find out is the one that actually raped her, that as long as she says her prayers and behaves herself, her father doesn't care if she rides around like Lady Godiva. It is also worked into the conversation that her mother is dead. In other words, Lucy does not have a simpleminded old biddy for a mother to instill the proper sense of decorum into her.At the end, Lieutenant Tom Cantrell, whose job it is to defend Rutledge, beats a confession out of Chandler Hubble while he is on the witness stand. Hubble admits that he had to rape Lucy because of the way she walked, the way she moved her body. You see, what with Lucy having her legs spread-eagled when she rides a horse and putting the image into his head of her being naked on that horse as well, it was just too much for him. In other words, the movie is just a hair from blaming the victim, although it stops short of that, blaming the circumstance of her not having a mother to raise her properly.One might think that the real blame for the rape would fall on Hubble, the man who raped her. But the movie portrays him as having acted under a sexual compulsion (especially since his wife is deceased, thereby depriving him of a normal sexual outlet). The point seems to be that it is up to women to behave in such a way as to not unleash the demon in men such as him.Regardless of the way this movie handles race and gender issues, however, its biggest problem is that it was a bad movie when it was made, and it just gets worse with age.

bob-790-196018 When this movie was made, its argument against racism was timely and still enough of a novelty to be interesting. The idea of a troop of black soldiers fighting as well as white ones would no doubt have been satisfying to many well-intentioned people, as would Woody Strode's portrayal of a noble warrior with a strong sense of integrity. It was a far cry from the demeaning stereotypes of black people that one found in the movies only a few years earlier--including Ford's own "The Sun Shines Bright." Today it's a different story. The movie seems obsessed with miscegenation--the sheer horror of a black man having intimate contact with a white woman! Good thing Sergeant Rutledge was an honorable man who would never do such a thing.Then there is the portrayal of Sergeant Rutledge as something larger than life. Instead of Stepin Fetchit, we have The Noble Black Hero. We see Woody Strode in several poses designed to portray him as an almost mythic character.The movie alternates between courtroom scenes that are not very exciting and outdoor sequences that, in true John Ford fashion, are beautiful. The early sequence in the railroad station is dreamlike and scary. The views of Monument Valley are majestic.

Robert J. Maxwell John Ford's grandson, Dan, wrote of "Sergeant Rutledge" that Pappy was really feeling his age on this one and I guess he's right. There is a scene near the beginning in which a cavalry officer, Jeffrey Hunter, meets the blond young Constance Towers. The scene takes place on a train at night. But Ford didn't bother to put the interior of the railroad car on rockers. The result is a static picture of two people talking on a stationary interior set.The same carelessness extends to the rest of the film. Many of the interiors were obviously shot in the studio with painted backdrops outside the window. The few images of Monument Valley, true Ford territory, are magnificent and stand out from the rest. The writers have given the defense counsel a big mistake in the dialog. Jeffrey Hunter argues that, so far, the evidence the court has is balanced but that "one iota of evidence can tip the scales either way." Now, even the most callow screenwriter knows that evidence does not come in "iotas." It invariably comes in "shreds."There is a problem with the casting as well. Willis Boucher is heading Woody Strode's court martial. He's always a reliable blowhard. And Jeffrey Hunter is a stalwart leading man. But it's arguable that Woody Strode himself can carry such a prominent part in a film. He's a football player, not a natural actor. He has one monumental statement and handles it well but the speech is just a bit too long, about one sentence too long. The rest of the acting is below par. Ford was at that point in his career where he was ready to pass out roles to old friends, but his old friends were disappearing. This is one instance in which more of the John Ford stock company would have been a welcome substitution for actors in important roles who just can't handle it. The suave and supercilious Judge Advocate, Carlton Young, is fine but Constance Towers isn't much of an actress. Jan Styne, as the son of the suttler, Fred Libby, has the capacity to act in a routine television sitcom, and evidently has been allowed to do so. As his father, Libby is a positive embarrassment, being slapped around in the witness chair until he confesses to the rape and murder of a young blond -- "I had to HAVE her! I had to HAVE her!" He slumps to the floor and pounds the seat of the chair, sobbing and overacting. Perry Mason would never have allowed this to happen.Yet there's something enjoyable about the movie. Not just that it was made by John Ford, but that it's a courtroom drama with enough outdoor action scenes to keep a viewer interested. There are a few plot holes but what's the difference? Ford is making up for all the butchery he's visited upon minorities in the United States. "Killed more Indians than Chivington and Custer combined," he said -- or something like it. I'm too lazy to look up the exact quote. It's a little confusing but at no point is it boring. Another observation. The cavalry officers all have trouser stripes of burnt orange, whereas the legal officers wear stripes of a kind of bright platinum. I much prefer the latter. They're really spiffy. And if I were to join the post-war cavalry I would make sure I was a lawyer so I could wear those brilliant trouser strips instead of the dull gold of the cavalry.I'm giving it six points but I'm being a little generous in doing so.