When imagining John Wayne, it’s hard not to picture him as a rip-roaring gun-slinging hero of the West (or at the very least the film’s protagonist), but in one of the legendary Howard Hawks’ most acclaimed pictures he took on a role of great complexity that saw him descending from hero to villain with Shakespearian depth. The film in question is 1948’s Red River, a true film about cowboys, in the sense that it’s not about outlaws or bounty hunters but a large group of cattle ranchers herding hundreds of cows all the way from Texas to Kansas over the historical Chisholm Trail. If that sounds unexciting then guess again, as between the stampedes, attacks from Native American tribes, and tensions mounting within the group, there’s plenty of drama to go around.
Beyond John Wayne, Red River is graced with the presence of superstar Montgomery Clift and character actor Walter Brennan, who also starred in Hawks’ and Wayne’s Rio Bravo. Fans of the latter film’s scene in which Brennan, Dean Martin, and Ricky Nelson sing ‘My Rifle, My Pony and Me’ in an impromptu performance will actually be delighted to know that the theme comes from Red River itself, with the opening title crawl scored by Russian composer Dimitri Tiomkin in truly operatic fashion that sets the epic tone for the story to come. Indeed, epic seems the only word to describe it, as Red River draws just as much from the archetypical stories of Ancient Greece as it does from the mythology of the Wild West.
Why Is ‘Red River’ an Oedipal Tale at Heart?
Anybody who’s appropriately studied their classics knows that there’s a name for stories about sons rebelling against their fathers: Oedipal. The name is taken from the Greek myth of the hero Oedipus, who was fated to kill his father. In spite of the Greek tragic hero’s many attempts to cheat his fate, it’s those very attempts that result in the father-killing prophecy coming true.
Red River concerns itself a little less with the aspect of destiny (though manifest destiny certainly plays a role throughout) and more with bubbling frictions between John Dunson (Wayne) and his son Matt Garth (Clift), who he adopts in the film’s prologue. Dunson raises Matt as his own, with Matt remaining the loyalist of companions. However, casting here proves essential, particularly in regard to the film’s theme of expiring masculinity.
While Wayne was known as the tough guy, a man’s man who takes no prisoners, Clift (though his stardom was still marinating at this point) became known for his kind eyes and sensitive exterior. In fact, it’s only through his friendship with another young man (John Ireland as sharpshooter Cherry Valance) that he decides to push back on his father’s despotic leadership.
When Dunson begins abusing his authority over the course of the cattle drive, Matt tries to assist him, only to draw the line when the boss threatens to lynch the deserters of their crew. Even if the film was made in 1948 and set in the 1800s, what’s on display here is the everlasting tyrannical ways of the older generation versus the more proletarian, group-oriented focus of the youth. It’s worth noting that not only is Cherry the one who urges Matt to think differently, but their introductory scene sees them comparing and admiring one another’s pistols, reinforcing the notion that Westerns were queer way before Brokeback Mountain or even Butch Cassidy.
What Makes John Wayne’s Performance So Powerful in ‘Red River’?
The complexity of John Wayne’s performance as Dunson echoes Humphrey Bogart in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, which was actually released in the same year (it was a good time to be a Western fan). With the gradual reversal of his role from protagonist to antagonist (inversely mirrored by Matt, who progressively proves more of a hindrance to Dunson’s goal), this is one of the most defining examples of a character that actively subverts the paradigm of the unflappable Western hero. Though he begins as a brave conquistador of the American West, his inability to listen to the wisdom of his younger subordinates reveals a deeply flawed and stubborn old man lost in his ways.
With tensions already high as a result of the grueling conditions Dunson insists his men endure, they reach their biggest pinch point when Dunson shoots three men who threaten to quit the drive. It’s an example of his tyrannical, authoritarian leadership that’s been exacerbated by the magnitude of his dream. As established from a prior act of betrayal among the cattle ranchers, Matt proves unwilling to kill, while Dunson views killing as a necessary strength. It’s at this point that Matt rebels, leaving his adopted father symbolically castrated by separating him from his bulls and his economic ambitions (both symbols of masculine authority).
What Is ‘Red River’ Really About?
During the final confrontation between Matt and Dunson, Matt chooses to face Dunson without a gun (an established symbol of phallic pride), refusing to draw it even after Dunson fires first. Upon approaching the boy, he screams “Won’t anything make a man out of you?”. Ironically, this is after what Matt’s accomplished that Dunson never could (delivering the cattle), showcasing that for the older guard, it’s not so much about achieving the goal as it is about archaically doing it “like a man”.
In one of the greatest Hawksian endings of all time, the pair are interrupted from their feud by Matt’s love interest Tess (Joanne Dru). Gun in hand, she completely puts them in their place, demanding that they stop fighting and wake up to the fact that they love each other. Dunson is so awestruck by Tess’s act of defiance that he immediately insists Matt marry her, only for Matt to warmly blow him off for always telling him what to do. At this moment, the audience realizes that Dunson isn’t so much a ruthless warlord but a father who simply needs to learn to let his son go.
However, while the characters may have denied their love throughout the film, Hawks and Wayne made sure not to make the same mistake. To celebrate their completion of the film in a ritual worthy of the Western icons they depicted, Wayne and Hawks swapped belt buckles engraved with their respective initials. In an Easter egg worthy of Pixar, Wayne would go on to wear his “H W H” buckle in several films, including the aforementioned Rio Bravo. It’s a beautiful bit of trivia that showcases the camaraderie between these filmmaking legends and cements the status of Red River as one of the greatest Westerns of all time.
Red River holds the prestigious distinction of questioning the masculine standards of Westerns while the genre was still in its heyday, acting as one of the first deconstructions of the classic Western hero. Given the film’s realism (in the sense that it portrays cowboys as cowboys instead of gunslingers), it deeply questions the distinction between tyranny and leadership while also championing the younger generation. The son doesn’t merely become the father, but a kinder and more effective version of him, particularly in the eyes of the community he looks after. With so many themes relating to growing up and growing old, it’s no wonder that Peter Bogdanovich chose this as the last film shown in his 1971 coming-of-age classic The Last Picture Show.