{This review is for the 108-minute version.}
For all its flaws in pacing and acting, "The Big Trail" certainly breathes frontier authenticity. It looks like it was painted by Frederic Remington and edited by Paul Bunyan.
The film's legacy stands on two impressive foundations. One is that it was shot on an epic scale, using a precursor for Cinemascope called "Grandeur" employing 70-millimeter film instead of 35mm. The other is the first starring role for that icon of American film, John Wayne.
Wayne is Breck Coleman, a wandering trapper who takes on the job of scouting for a wagon train on a 2,500-mile trek to the Pacific Northwest. He doesn't think much for their chances, but discovers he has a score to settle with wagon boss Red Flack (Tyrone Power, Sr.) He also discovers something else worth hanging around for, a southern beauty named Ruth (Marguerite Churchill) who won't give him the time of day.
Wayne has the right manner in this one ("I got to kill me a pair of skunks"), but comes across as too callow. Two of his most memorable acting qualities, his reactive skill and his humor, are missing here. He has his moments, but plays pretty stiff in the main, undoubtedly hampered by the fact sound had just arrived and "The Big Trail" was shot outdoors.
The film's majesty is entirely visual. This is true even for the shorter, 35mm version I saw, shot by Lucien Andriot. Every frame is filled with action and depth, even when there is some explanatory dialogue being attended to in the foreground. Apparently the 70mm version shot by Arthur Edeson and viewable on YouTube is heavenly.
I haven't gotten around to seeing the Edeson cut, which takes me to the main problem with the film. It moves so slow for 108 minutes, I can't really get enough interest in seeing 15 more minutes of it, however beautiful.
The film moves about as fast as a Conestoga wagon, with various intervals meant to dramatize the settlers' plight. There is a storm, a river crossing, a cliff traversal, a desert, and a Cheyenne attack, each of which comprise a few chaotic minutes followed by a portentous title card, like: "Prairie Schooners rolling west. Praying for peace - but ready for battle."
Director Raoul Walsh was clearly a pioneer in his own way, with a marvelous sense of detail he invests into every shot. I just wish he had gotten rid of the comic relief of El Brendel's Swedish character, Gus, which has nothing to do with the rest of the film. It's bad enough he can't really move the camera in when his stars are at the center, though Wayne doesn't seem quite ready for his close-up.
Even the action gets short-changed. The big Indian attack on the train gets no build up and is over quickly, without any sense of what it was about. Likewise, Breck's big showdown with Red is ludicrously set up and over too fast.
All in all, this is a fascinating film if just for how it paints its pictures, not the story it tells.
For all its flaws in pacing and acting, "The Big Trail" certainly breathes frontier authenticity. It looks like it was painted by Frederic Remington and edited by Paul Bunyan.
The film's legacy stands on two impressive foundations. One is that it was shot on an epic scale, using a precursor for Cinemascope called "Grandeur" employing 70-millimeter film instead of 35mm. The other is the first starring role for that icon of American film, John Wayne.
Wayne is Breck Coleman, a wandering trapper who takes on the job of scouting for a wagon train on a 2,500-mile trek to the Pacific Northwest. He doesn't think much for their chances, but discovers he has a score to settle with wagon boss Red Flack (Tyrone Power, Sr.) He also discovers something else worth hanging around for, a southern beauty named Ruth (Marguerite Churchill) who won't give him the time of day.
Wayne has the right manner in this one ("I got to kill me a pair of skunks"), but comes across as too callow. Two of his most memorable acting qualities, his reactive skill and his humor, are missing here. He has his moments, but plays pretty stiff in the main, undoubtedly hampered by the fact sound had just arrived and "The Big Trail" was shot outdoors.
The film's majesty is entirely visual. This is true even for the shorter, 35mm version I saw, shot by Lucien Andriot. Every frame is filled with action and depth, even when there is some explanatory dialogue being attended to in the foreground. Apparently the 70mm version shot by Arthur Edeson and viewable on YouTube is heavenly.
I haven't gotten around to seeing the Edeson cut, which takes me to the main problem with the film. It moves so slow for 108 minutes, I can't really get enough interest in seeing 15 more minutes of it, however beautiful.
The film moves about as fast as a Conestoga wagon, with various intervals meant to dramatize the settlers' plight. There is a storm, a river crossing, a cliff traversal, a desert, and a Cheyenne attack, each of which comprise a few chaotic minutes followed by a portentous title card, like: "Prairie Schooners rolling west. Praying for peace - but ready for battle."
Director Raoul Walsh was clearly a pioneer in his own way, with a marvelous sense of detail he invests into every shot. I just wish he had gotten rid of the comic relief of El Brendel's Swedish character, Gus, which has nothing to do with the rest of the film. It's bad enough he can't really move the camera in when his stars are at the center, though Wayne doesn't seem quite ready for his close-up.
Even the action gets short-changed. The big Indian attack on the train gets no build up and is over quickly, without any sense of what it was about. Likewise, Breck's big showdown with Red is ludicrously set up and over too fast.
All in all, this is a fascinating film if just for how it paints its pictures, not the story it tells.