In a recent episode of
The Virginian,
a judge passed sentence on a man called Denning. Denning had accidentally
murdered a man while helping his brother bust out of jail. But
there were heaps of extenuating circumstances. For instance, we've just seen
Denning under arrest, save his captors from Indian attacks, and, having done so,
politely hand them back his gun. The Judge, though, doesn't take any of this
into account. He tells the Jury; "The
only question you have to ask yourselves is did the blow Denning struck result
in death or not? On that basis alone, you must return a verdict of Guilty or
Not Guilty".
None of the Jury argues with this,
and the man is sentenced. Denning spends the night before his execution with his
friend Sheriff Ryker, a man who arrested him. At one point Denning rather
sensibly tries to escape, but Ryker argues him out of it, "You did society
a wrong," he says, "and now you've got to pay for it"
Denning takes this very well and
takes his last train journey the next day with a firm handshake and no
recriminations.
It's all straightforward - and all
familiar. The thing about The Virginian and the new series, THE HIGH CHAPARRAL -
which starts this week - is that they are so profoundly biblical,
The Western has always been a modern
morality drama, bringing to the conflict of good and evil an epic scale that
gangster movies can't match.
The vintage days of TV Westerns was
10 years ago in the States , a year or two later in Britain. In the States
in 1959, Westerns were so popular that there were eight of them in the top ten
shows. All 8 had the classic lone Western hero. There was James Arness in
GUNSMOKE; Richard Boone as Paladin, the Shakespeare-quoting tooter of HAVE GUN
,WILL TRAVEL, James Garner in MAVERICK; Dale Robertson , the ultimate hero in
WELLS FARGO. There wasn't any of the fathers, sons, and brothers of today's BBC
Westerns.
What these relatives give to
Westerns, of course, are new areas of morality to explore. They also supply new
authority to back up moral judgments. Besides all the virtues of the loner -
honesty, courage, endurance - you now have new ones - duty (father or father-figure)
and loyalty.
This is where it gets Biblical. There
are elder brothers with a sense of duty (Moses/Esau figures). There are reckless
trouble-making brothers (Aaron/ Jacob figures): Buck of The High Chaparral or
Trampas, the Virginian brother-substitute. And when both sons start to go
astray, well. there's always Big Daddy Abraham of the plains.
The looks of the Big Daddies alone
are enough to inspire confidence. There's Judge Garth in THE VIRGINIAN and John
Cannon in THE HIGH CHAPARRAL and Murdock in LANCER. They're all rugged and greying at the temples, their faces etched with the wisdom of the years. The family
Western allows two generations of sex appeal, You can please mums and daughters.
Since 1950, the big screen Western
has grown up. The moral alternatives in movies like BROKEN ARROW and
GUNSMOKE are less black and white. The restful absolutes of Owen Winter have
gone. At the end of HIGH NOON, Gary Cooper tosses his sheriff's badge
into the dust. In Sam Peckinpah's THE WILD BUNCH, the killing is prolonged
and pointless. Peckinpah's heroes are tired men living frontier lives in a world
which has outstripped them. The old Western ethics are questioned every inch of
the way.
Maybe the TV westerns on the other
hand, need their Biblical framework precisely because they don't question the
old Western ethics very hard . The judge condemns Denning, and Ryker sends him
honorably to his execution. The Apaches in THE HIGH CHAPARRAL are legitimate
enemies. To the rough-and-ready justice of the gun is added the big patriarchs'
okay. So pick the badge up out of the dust, Gary. It ain't murder when Big
Daddy gives the nod.
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