Stagecoach

St. James Encyclopedia of Pop Culture, Jan 29, 2002 by David B. Welky

The critically-acclaimed classic film, Stagecoach (1939), not only helped to revive the A-movie Western, which had been out of favor since the advent of the sound era, but it cemented director John Ford's reputation as one of America's greatest filmmakers. And, as if that weren't enough, Stagecoach was the movie that catapulted John Wayne into stardom. Based on Ernest Haycox's short story, "Stage to Lordsburg," Stagecoach follows eight travelers on a trip through Indian country and explores the tensions and relationships that emerge during times of crisis.

Despite its big-movie pretensions, Stagecoach shares many similarities with B-movie Westerns. Its main characters are standard clichés from any number of low-grade cowboy flicks: Ringo (John Wayne), the young outlaw bent on revenge; Dallas (Clare Trevor), the prostitute with a heart of gold; Boone (Thomas Mitchell), the drunken doctor; Gatewood (Benton Churchill), the pompous businessman; Hatfield (John Carradine), the chivalrous gambler; Lucy (Louise Platt), the snobbish rich lady; and Peacock (Donald Meek), the timid whiskey drummer, are hardly unique to this film. Nor is the plot particularly original, with chases and shootouts that are typical Western fare.

What makes the film special is its character development and, more importantly, the clear social vision it presented to movie audiences mired in the Great Depression. Primary to this vision was the idea of community. The coach itself, set adrift in the savage wilderness of Indian country, represents a microcosm of civilized society. The passengers in the stagecoach-society are clearly from diverse backgrounds. In the course of the film, however, these outlaws, out-of-towners, and snobs work through their differences to form a cohesive unit (with one notable exception). The driving force behind their union is crisis. The premature birth of Lucy's baby forces Dr. Boone to sober up, brings Dallas and Lucy together, and draws sympathy from the others. Similarly, the climactic (if not slightly stereotypical) Indian-coach chase requires these disparate elements to join forces to repel the common foe. The message was clear for contemporary audiences, who themselves faced a different sort of crisis: The best way to persevere through hard times is to band together and fight. Ford was no utopian idealist, however. Once the danger had passed and the stage reached Lordsburg (an ironic name, considering the amount of gambling, prostitution, and gunplay that took place there), the group went their separate ways. Clearly, such a community could only exist in extraordinary times.

But Ford's community is not all-inclusive. Significantly, the banker Gatewood is left out, as if he had no role in society. Depression-era audiences, who largely blamed bankers for the decade's ills, found in Gatewood a figure richly deserving of their scorn. While others try to help Lucy after she gives birth, Gatewood impatiently demands that the coach continue its trip. He is notably absent in the chase scene, remaining invisible inside the moving coach while the others desperately fire at the marauding Indians from its windows. Gatewood presents an alternative social vision, which is roundly rejected. The other passengers are noticeably bored when he demands that bankers be free from government inspection and proclaims that America needs a "businessman for president." Their disinterest is a swipe at the conservative Republican administrations of the 1920s and is an implicit nod of support for the more liberal Franklin Roosevelt and his New Deal. At the film's end, Gatewood is revealed as a thief and dragged off in handcuffs.

Ford extended his vision beyond this call for community and used Stagecoach to present a largely traditionalist idea of the perfect man and woman. Stagecoach's heroic men are tough and rugged problem-solvers who are not afraid to use weapons to defend themselves and their civilization from outside threats. Fainthearted men like Peacock are lampooned and exposed as effeminate. "I've had five children," Peacock notes when Lucy is in labor. "I mean," he notes, "my dear wife has." Throughout the movie, Peacock, doing his best impression of a disapproving nurse, tries to dissuade the alcoholic Dr. Boone from imbibing. Women, conversely, are most sympathetic when acting as mothers. The cold and aloof Lucy becomes a much more likable character once she has her baby, and Ringo first expresses his feelings for Stella after he admires her as she holds Lucy's baby. These ideal types are as important to Stagecoach's message as its presentation of a society in crisis; to weather times of trouble, a community needed to be made up of the right kind of people.

Stagecoach struck a chord with both critics and audiences. The New York Times hailed the film as "a noble horse opera," and declared the film "a beautiful sight to see." Variety called Stagecoach a "sweeping and powerful drama" and enthusiastically lauded its "photographic grandeur." The film packed movie houses and won Academy Awards for Best Supporting Actor (Thomas Mitchell) and Best Score.