Dir. John Ford
111 Minutes
USA
1960
Starring: Jeffrey Hunter, Constance Towers, Billie Burke, Woody Strode, Willis Bouchey, Carleton Young
****1/2/*****
Sergeant Rutledge places John Ford’s western fascination into the space of the courtroom, presenting a Rashomon-style narrative about events that took place which led to the accusation of Rutledge (Woody Strode), a black cavalry solider, of raping a murdering a young white woman. Rutledge is defended by Lt. Tom Cantrell (Jeffrey Hunter) who truly believes in his clients innocence, though must offer his plea in front of many who automatically make the assumption of guilt based on skin color.
On the surface, Sergeant Rutledge is an unusual project for Ford in its magnified exploration of race outside of stock slave characters or servants, but its narrative is engaging in its discussions of assumed guilt or innocence based on a certain level of performance. Rutledge is guilty not necessarily because of his involvement in any crime, but because his ability to “act” like others is hindered by his appearance. Strode, who would work with Ford on three more pictures and essentially become his closest friend and caretaker in the final years of his life, gives a strong performance that alters tone based on which witness is telling that portion of the story, and his entrance within this shared narrative is with a menace and power so marvelously contrast from his initial courtroom appearance. Ford does beautiful things with this space, giving the witness stand a theatrical flair by dimming the lights and offering a spotlight on the character speaking. But he also uses the space for some almost vaudevillian comedy, mostly from Willis Bouchey’s court-martial president who is dealing not only with the stresses of the trial (demanding his “water” during certain moments, which is suspiciously brown), but also with his loquacious and gossip hungry wife (Billie Burke, in her final film role). A recess between the jury members to discuss the verdict that hastily becomes a conversation over poker and whiskey is such a tonal shift that works shockingly well primarily because Ford is so good at establishing these characters throughout the trial that it simply feels like exactly what this group of people would do at this moment.
The narrative is arguably a little neat in its solution, and the eventual reveal that circles heavily on a little golden cross almost feels slightly beholden to time limitations rather than an organic development, but the film is so rich in detail, character, and story that this is a fairly light criticism in the moment. And perhaps one that is fully intentional, not allowing the picture to become some convoluted mystery at the expense of the message it is trying to convey and the details of this community that it is trying to offer. Some of Ford’s best moments come from communal development that comes from a shared threat, but in the case of Sergeant Rutledge that threat is not something visible like a group of soldiers, it is something more inherently human while also being monstrous. But the film is very successful being a patch work of tones and moods, avoiding feelings of disjointedness and the meshing instead emphasizing the conflicts of race, class, and rank inherent in the narrative.
Viewed on July 31st, 2020
Part of an ongoing John Ford Project with notes from selected films.