The 1953 Civil War /western "Escape From Fort Bravo" appealed to the 8-year-old boy buried in me under the grizzle and paunch. I don't know if I saw any John Sturges movies at the age of eight, but know that by my early teens I had seen several, including his biggest hit "The Great Escape" (1963), which also centered on escaping prisoners of war and included some tart humor. (Sturges also directed the outright comedy set in the west "The Hallelujah Trail" with Burt Lancaster, ca. 1965, and his 1960 hit "The Magnificent Seven" also has considerable humor.)

The humor in "Escape From Fort Bravo" and the best lines (including the one I lifted for my title) were allocated to William Demarest who played a sardonic, tobacco-chewing Kentuckian named Campbell and has a brash younger Confederate Army prisoner, Cabot Young (William Campbell) to best in verbal jousts. Demarest honed his crotchety wisdom in 1940s comedies directed by the other Sturges (Preston): "Sullivan's Travels" (1941), "The Palm Beach Story" (1942), "The Miracle of Morgan's Creek" (1944) and (his best role) as the sergeant in "Hail the Conquering Hero" (1944); plus I grew up watching him on "My Three Sons" as Uncle Charley.

Sturges was an outstanding action director (The Eagle Has Landed, The Last Train from Gun Hill, Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, as well as the already mentioned The Great Escape and The Magnificent Seven), but before getting to the action—both in the movie and in my review—there is a lot of romance. Romance was not typically a forte of John Sturges (I once tried to watch "By Love Possessed"), but I was surprised that "Escape From Fort Bravo" is one of the few westerns in which the romance plot does not feel tacked on to broaden a western's appeal. The romance is more than integral—it is central to the plot.

Just a few days ago, I wrote that I didn't find William Holden a convincing romantic lead. He was excellent as a cynic about women, and pretty good being duped by them. Carla Foerster (Eleanor Parker) has his ultra-tough-guy character, Capt. Roper, wrapped around her little finger from the first moment he sees her. (The audience sees her firing a derringer before she has a chance to bat her eyelashes at anyone.) For Capt. Roper she is a femme fatale. They have not half-bad repartee. (And as an 8-year-old or some age close to that, I was dazzled by Parker and the ants in "The Naked Jungle.")

The movie begins very strongly—brutally even. The U.S. Cavalry captain (Holden), stationed at Fort Bravo, a prison for Confederate Army soldiers, is mounted with an escaped Confederate prisoner (John Lupton) staggering behind on a rope. Everyone (prisoners and guards) is appalled by this. Capt. Roper is not fazed and feels no need to explain himself. He's one tough hombre and pleased to be thought of that way.

After a night's rest (and dinner with the commander and his guest), Roper leads a detachment out to find out what has happened to a supply train. They find the wagons smoldering, the guns gone, and the wagon masters staked out for the ants. After burying the wagoneers, the detachment is attacked by Mescalero Apaches, suffering some casualties and rescues a stage coach that is carrying Carla (coming to be maid of honor for the wedding of the daughter of Fort Bravo's commander). I've already mentioned that she first appears shooting at the attacking Indians.

The movie slows down for establishing characters, the prisoner escape plan, a dance, and the wedding. Capt. Roper goes after the escapees and there is a major Apache ambush in what obviously to me is not Apache country (it was shot—spectacularly by Robert Surtees (Ben Hur, The Last Picture Show, The Sting)—in California's very scenic, very unforgiving Death Valley).

The tactics of Apaches and Capt. Roper comprise the last third of the movie. I never understand why the Indians always circle instead of over-running army positions in westerns. In this movie, the surrounding is more chilling than most (if being pinned down in the blazing Death Valley sun can be considered possibly chilling!).

The ending is fairly predictable with gallantry and mutual respect blooming throughout the last half of the movie. There is even character development (often missing in action flicks).

My only complaints are that (as with most 1950s westerns) a syrupy ballad is sung under the opening credits and that the night-time shots at a watering hole are obviously studio shot, contrasting painfully to the striking daytime location shooting. (Speaking of shooting, my inner 8-year-old is not fazed by every shot hitting its mark or a frontier outpost being used as a prison camp, and at age 8 I couldn't distinguish Arizona desert from Death Valley.)

Those without inner-8-year-old boys and/or without my fascination with Death Valley vistas might like the movie less. It is even possible that some people don't find William Demarest's sarcasm entertaining, but those who enjoy watching mounted men getting through treacherous defiles and the complex action that John Sturges specialized in filming will enjoy themselves.

Six years later, after playing the similarly resourceful commander in the North Sea in The Key, Holden mounted up in another Civil War action movie that featured another Confederate female agent (Constance Tower) and had John Wayne as the hell-for-leather commander, "The Horse Soldiers," directed by John Ford. I think that it is quite good, and Holden has good lines in it. In 1966, Holden played one of his cynic roles involuntarily embroiled in a war: "Alvarez Kelly" combines the cattle drive genre with the Civil War. In 1969, Holden saddled up to lead "The Wild Bunch," in Sam Peckinpah's movie that is widely recognized as one of the greatest of westerns. (And Peckinpagh had earlier directed one of the most interesting blends of Civil War and western movies, < a href="/content_93630336644.)



Recommended:
Yes