One mistake I keep making is around expecting a film to land a certain way for me. Sometimes I expect a dud and end up loving it, like “The Exorcist”. Sometimes I expect nothing of the film and finish delighted to have taken the time, like “North by Northwest”. But the most tragic of all are the films I expect to eat up and conclude unamused. Fueled by high praise and the scores of filmmakers that consider the film a key influence, I expected “The Searchers” to sit high on my shelf of favorite western-films. But alas, I’d be glad to not waste my time again.
Former Confederate soldier Ethan Edwards (John Wayne) returns home and accompanies a batch of Texas Rangers as they investigate cattle stolen by Indians. Upon realizing the theft is a diversion, the men rush home and find that the Indians have killed all of Ethan’s blood relatives, save two nieces. Ethan sets out on a five year quest to find the girls and reluctantly allows his part-Indian adopted nephew Martin to join him. Ethan begins to devolve after learning that one niece was raped/murdered and the other niece, Debbie, was indoctrinated into the Indian tribe. He only continues the pursuit out of his pure hatred for Indians. In a final showdown, the Rangers fight the Indians and Ethan must decide what to do with Debbie.
This film was long and for me, boring. It was full of stunning vistas and colorful characters, but that’s completely expected in a Western. To compliment it for a second, I personally liked Martin’s B-Plot on-again-off-again romance with Laurie Jorgensen and silly characters like Captain Clayton and Charlie McCorry. But in the driver’s seat was John Wayne’s wooden performance and a dreary revenge plot stretched out for so long that I lost interest.
And then there’s the racism. Now this is pretty complicated as many commentators state that the inclusion of harsh racism was a purposeful story choice to explain motivations of Edwards. But I’m unconvinced that this explanation covers the entire weighty aura of manifest-destiny/white man’s burden racism that hung over this whole film. Maybe that says more about me and how I interpret things than a film so widely acclaimed. I know my comfort should not be a barometer of art but I can't shake the feeling of unmet expectations.