John Ford/USA/1956; R4, 50th Anniversary SE
Warner Bros, NZ$19.95 | Reviewed by Shahir Daud

IT MAY BE difficult to pinpoint, or even moot to suggest, but where is the nexus between a filmmaker and their work? When do the films of an auteur become the auteur themselves? Do these questions have any real relevance to anyone wanting to figure out if The Searchers is the right movie for them? Perhaps not, since regardless of your opinion of John Ford’s polemic, The Searchers is quite a masterful stroke of filmmaking, both beautiful and thoughtful. Heralded as one of the greatest films of all time several times over by many ‘important’ critical polls (AFI, Sight and Sound), The Searchers comes with enough critical and commercial backing to make it a must see for most cinephiles.

However, there is a niggling feeling I have that perhaps such praise shouldn’t entirely be lavished upon John Fords epic tale of revenge in the old west. True to the legend, John Wayne’s Ethan Edwards is a cantankerous leather skinned Confederate soldier, whose racism may very well be his defining feature. He belittles Marty (Jeffery Hunter) for his Indian origins on first sight, and persists upon the idea of killing his niece Debbie (Natalie Wood) after she’s kidnapped by Comanche chief Scar (Henry Brandon) because he believes she’s no longer ‘White’. Yet, he confoundingly redeems himself by saving Marty, rescuing Debbie, and choosing not to kill her. Indeed much of the praise for The Searchers is pointed at its relativist morality.

But for such an open text, The Searchers still abides by a predominately Anglo-Saxon code of ethics. Scar is of course, the villain, and the story will only redress balance with his death, for anything less would be far too revolutionary a narrative. Native American’s still represent an untamed savagery in comparison to White pilgrims, and the march of the cavalry, which results in a terrifying massacre of a Comanche camp, is still played as a heroic last stand at the films bloody conclusion.

It is well considered to suggest that The Searchers is a product of its time (1956), and when seen in that light is even more groundbreaking. Yet, should we all be apologists for past prejudices? Shall we still excuse The Birth of a Nation for its appalling portrayals of African Americans because it holds such a strong place in our collective film history? Certainly, if the film were less critically praised, its brazenly suggestive imagery (Scar is first seen as a looming shadow cast over Debbie’s face, as she waits by a gravesite, making his appearance more analogous to a horror monster) may be called further into question.


BUT THIS is a film released with the endorsement of such esteemed filmmakers as Curtis Hanson, Martin Scorsese, John Milius and Peter Bogdanovich, who all contribute to the fascinating DVD extras. Each cite The Searchers as an influence, and are quick to defend it as a monument of American filmmaking. Certainly, the weight of their conviction makes The Searchers all the more interesting, however, with still such a small population of Native American filmmakers, I wonder what someone like Chris Eyre (Smoke Signals) would have thought about it.

If anything, The Searchers makes for great debate, and the haunting final shot of Ethan as an outsider to the new west (Ethan walks away solemnly, while inside a darkly lit house are Swedish immigrants, a recently reunited interracial couple and the teenage Debbie who is now essentially a half breed), suggests at least an attempt to re-align the genre with modern reality. The Searchers may not entirely be revisionist, but is not without some of the most potent images in the Western genre.