Gingrich Shoots a Half-Breed

To understand Newt Gingrich, you need to rent a copy of “The Searchers”, John Ford’s 1954 classic starring John Wayne as Ethan Edwards, a world-weary civil war veteran– and possible thief– coming home to his brother’s farm for a spell. It is hinted that the real love of his life is Martha, his brother Aaron’s wife, and it is implied that Aaron and Martha’s daughter Debbie– born shortly after Ethan left to fight for the Confederacy– might be Ethan’s daughter.

Someone steals the cattle one day and the men set off in pursuit. They shortly come to the realization that the cattle theft was a diversion: the Comanche waited for the men to leave and then burned down their houses and killed Aaron and Martha and their son, Ben, and kidnapped their two girls: Debbie and Lucy.

When they first catch up to the Comanche, Ethan/Newt wants to charge head-on into the camp slaughtering everybody. They are all pretty sure that Debbie and Lucy would die in the assault so the militia commander, Clayton, insists they sneak into the camp first to try to rescue the girls. This leads them into a trap. which they barely escape with their lives. They find Lucy’s body shortly afterwards: she had been raped and murdered. Newt was right. Only Newt was right. All of the other men, we later learn, are either weak or foolish or greedy. Only Newt can really save the girl, and he just wants to kill her.

The militia give up and go home, but Ethan does not. He rides on, searching.

A long time passes.

You see, Newt/Ethan believes that once Debbie has adapted herself to Comanche culture, she will be “no good” any more for any white family. So it becomes clear that he now intends to just kill her, if he finds her.

I don’t know for sure what “no good” means. Clearly, she won’t be a virgin. And it is utterly of a piece with Conservative “character” that demands are made of other people’s virtue that obviously are not made of oneself. But does it also mean that she might have become more like Newt: ruthless and capable of slitting someone’s throat if there was a necessity for it? So you wouldn’t want someone like that in your house. She’s “no good”. But then, why would he want to kill her? Why not leave her with the Comanche?

And let them have her? Are you mad?

They don’t deserve her. They are not entitled to her. They are– hoo boy! Different, damnit!

Unlike Newt, John Wayne’s Ethan actually fought in a war. That makes him someone Conservatives admire deeply but never emulate. War is for other people to fight, and for me to start.

I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t mean that she had become a lesbian, though — hey, this was the 50’s– you never know. It might have been part of that richly textured and nuanced meaning of “no good”.

When they next find Debbie– after about 2 years of hunting for her– Ethan gets set to kill her. He chases her on his horse, catches her, but then decides to take her home instead. That is because even though Newt is ruthless and brutal and convinced he knows exactly what is best for everyone, he always does the right thing. But are they grateful? No they are not. After delivering Debbie back to the white folk, the door of the cabin famously closes on the receding image of Ethan walking away. They just don’t appreciate him. They don’t realize that without people like Ethan, those Comanche would be snatching up all of our sons and daughters and enslaving them with excessive regulations and onerous taxes.

In real life, a woman who was held by the Comanche for several years was, in fact, rescued (she was returned as part of a deal) to her family and community.

She could not adjust and eventually returned to the Comanche.


“The Searchers” in consistently ranked way up there with the best of American film, and is often listed as the best Western of them all. Is it really? If it is, it must be the sweep and grandeur of it’s vision, because the acting is awful, and the story is absolute melodrama at times.

Just one example: when Ethan finally catches up with Debbie for the final time, she rejects him and flees, and he chases her on horseback– I assume this is a stuntman, not Natalie Wood– and catches up to her, and she tries to slash him at first. Then he says, I’m taking you home. She looks into his manly John Wayne eyes and immediately melts and hugs him.

John Ford couldn’t be bothered to take even 30 seconds for the most important dramatic transition in the entire movie? This is apex upon which the entire narrative drive pivots! It’s all over in about 10 seconds.

Even worse: the famous last scene, of John Wayne marching off into the sunset, is far shorter than I bet you think you remember it. Check it out. It’s a fart of an ending. The audiences are already out in the lobby before they “get” that Ethan just not the kind of man who could settle for a first or even a second wife.

So it’s a classic of the epic Hollywood genre, which means, a film that is all surfaces and check-marks: close up, wide shot, pan shot, lighting, make-up, hair, costume. The story isn’t trivial: it’s actually quite rich and complex. Characters are developed. There’s even a bit of grit, an edge, some rawness to the drama. But that was all in the script. What showed up on the screen was a lot of spectacle, and then actors standing on their marks reading their lines.

And please don’t give me that shit that all the movies of this era were like that: they were not! Check “The Third Man” or “Marty”. Or “Seven Samurai” or “Rashomon” or “All about Eve” or “Tokyo Story” or “Wild Strawberries” or “La Strada” or “On the Waterfront”, and so on.

And please don’t tell me that John Wayne was a great actor.  He always only played himself: a mediocre actor playing his own illusion about manliness.

Natalie Wood

Here is a cringe-worthy piece on Natalie Wood.  [web site defunct]

I’ve always liked Natalie and I’ve liked her work generally, though she should never be confused with a serious actor.

Here, the narrator points out that Natalie has a lot of work to do when it comes to choosing her next picture: she also has to choose the director, her co-stars, the production company, and so on. He forgot: and write the script, compose the music, select the film and lenses, edit, and actually produce a story that is worth watching. This is the art form turned on it’s head. This is the sunflower telling the artist how to paint.

You can tell she really thinks this is all “art” and so very serious and all that, which is a shame, because what she did quite often– as in “The Great Race” was good fun and digestible, and she worked okay in “Splendor in the Grass”, at least partly because that was such a strange story.

Of course, Marni Nixon dubbed her vocals in “West Side Story” but why would that be a problem? “West Side Story” isn’t about anything real in any case. We’re entering an era where they will also dub your nose, your eyes, your breasts: the public does not care about “real” or “authentic”. The public cares mainly about fantasy.

She just shouldn’t get mixed up about just what it is she does.

West Side Imposters

Although the singing voices are, for the most part, dubbed by unspecified vocal performers, the device is not noticeable and detracts not one whit from the beauty and eloquence of the songs.

Bosley Crowther, New York Times, Review of “West Side Story”, October 1961

Has the man lost his mind? Natalie Wood leans into Richard Beymer with all the earnest, perky, passion she can muster… and Marni Nixon’s voice comes out, operatic, soaring, obviously dubbed. Richard Beymer sings back to her, in the voice of Jimmy Bryant– less absurdly unconnected, but still silly– and all the passion drains away like runny soup. Am I the only crazy person out there who tries to imagine how that scene was actually shot– the actors actually bellowing out something– their lips are moving in sync to the voices– and sounding hilariously horrible? Do they make no sound at all or do they just sing badly?

I don’t know. It’s too stupid to contemplate, and I don’t care how many movies did it, or if any of them won Oscars (as “West Side Story” did.) It’s the steroids of the popular arts: fake everything. It’s dishonest, tacky, and stupid.

It’s like those scenes in a car with the fake background through the rear window, and the two people struggling over control of the wheel: you’re supposed to feel tension? Over what? The possibility that the projector might fall over exposing the studio wall behind it? Or those scenes in a boat, where you can almost picture the crew with buckets tossing water at them from the wings.

Why on earth would they not just learn to film these scenes in real cars on real roads? European directors, who couldn’t afford huge studio sets, did it all the time. Independent film-makers do it. Martin Scorcese usually does it.

It’s not as if I’m against technique– what they do now is a vast improvement. They either put the entire car on a trailer and tow it down the street while filming, or mount a camera on the door, or both. They even have a rear-engined “car” with a built in camera mount on the front where the engine would normally be. It’s actually driven by a stuntman in the back– the steering wheel is fake.

You know why they did the awful back-projection method back then? Because the producers of these movies are completely convinced that you and I don’t give a damn about authenticity. We are easily led. We don’t want look at the relatively imperfect face of a real singer, or hear the imperfect voice of the real actor. We want to be deceived.

I know I’m wrong. I know that the movie studios make a lot of money doing it their way and nobody seems to care how fake or phony the whole thing is.

I note a irony: audiences apparently were thrilled that some scenes from “West Side Story” were filmed on the real streets of Manhattan. They’re right– those scenes almost look fabulous (except that the vacant lots and streets were tidied up and lit perfectly for the shoot).

So why on earth would they care about that, if they don’t care about the voices?


There is a movie called “The New Land” about Swedish immigrants struggling to establish themselves in the 19th century west. It seems silly to even contemplate, but I feel a load of gratitude to the director for filming the outdoor scenes outdoors, the snowy scenes in real snow, and the indoor scenes inside a real cabin. It’s beautiful. It’s marvelous. It’s wondrous. It’s how films should be made.