My Darling Clementine

1946's MY DARLING CLEMENTINE may well be the crown jewel in director John Ford's ouevre.  Big statement to make as many of his films - so richly deserving of accolades, include THE SEARCHERS, THE GRAPES OF WRATH, and STAGECOACH.  I have revisited many of his movies recently with far more mature eyes and perspectives, realizing to an even greater degree what classics they are.   Regardless of content or genre (be it Western or otherwise), the man was a damned fine director, with an eye that is unrivaled among peers and the many he inspired.  A singular vision that understood "show don't tell"...."actions not words".   Quite artistically, he envisioned his landscapes as wellsprings of emotion, of strongly American values, framing and lighting them to that majestic end.  He was the maestro of the long shot, usually against a deep landscape and/or sky.   There were those rousing tracking shots across prairies, or inside a saloon.

Ford regular Henry Fonda plays Wyatt Earp, a retired marshall who reluctantly re-assumes the role when one of his brothers is murdered outside of Tombstone, Arizona.   It was probably the handiwork of the Clanton gang, whom Earp had rebuffed when an offer was made for his cattle.  Wyatt also encounters Doc Holliday (Victor Mature), by now a hopeless drunk who suffers a foul temper and nonstop cough, courtesy of his tuberculosis.  The two have a rocky sort-of friendship based mostly on some sort of squinty eyed respect.  Then Clementine (Cathy Downs) arrives from Boston after a long search for her ex-lover - Doc.  Earp is instantly smitten with her.

But this movie doesn't fall into love triangle cliches.  It doesn't feature a love triangle at all.  Doc has left Clementine and his medical practice back East, content with being a professional gambler in the wild West. He's taken up with a firebrand Latina named Chihuahua (Linda Darnell) and coldly brushes Clementine off at every turn.  It's like he's on a scheduled path of self-destruction.  Hmmm, Tombstone, a resting place...

Despite the film's title, Clementine is almost a footnote in this story, and Downs' image graces none of the posters I've seen.  This is a story of two somewhat reckless, devil-may-care trigger fingers who cross paths long enough to make history, though much has been written of Ford and screenwriters Samuel G. Engel and Winston Miller's liberties with the facts.  Especially with how the final gunfight at the O.K. Corral plays out.  I read that when the director was confronted with this charge, his response was "Well, did you like the movie or not?!" Classic Ford.

Fonda is perfect.  Cocksure, yet polite.  Rough hewned but somewhat polished.  Mature is an interesting choice for Doc, and would not have been my first.  He seems too ethnic, too exotic in some way.  I liked his work but maybe Robert Mitchum would've been better suited for the part. MY DARLING CLEMENTINE is mainly about Doc Holliday; he certainly gets the richest, most attentive character study.  The screenplay gives him a lot of business as well, and commendably many of his and the entire picture's scenes don't necessarily lead where you might expect.

Ford frames it all perfectly.  He returns to his beloved grounds, desert land on the Arizona/Utah border.  His lighting is exquisitely moody and his compositions are all classic.  The movie is good clean fun, free of the sort of sexual darkness seen in Westerns like JUBAL.  It's so danged innocent that Earp only gets as far as giving Clementine a peck on the cheek during a final scene that is as perfect as it can be.