Film Review - The Sons of Katie Elder Film Review

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House review of The Sons of Katie Elder (1965)

Reviewing a movie with John Wayne in it is rather like reviewing a movie with Jesus in it—one feels rather unworthy, yet knows that the only way to honor the subject is to stick to one’s convictions.

And would the Duke accept any less?

It’s hard, because John Wayne is an American icon. He is great, and stands for something great—honor, pride, a simpler, truer way of life, and a uniquely American manly self-sufficiency that we long for nostalgically. But John Wayne was also just an actor. Of his 180-plus movies, some were truly great, helping build Wayne’s legend. But some just weren’t that great—and The Sons of Katie Elder is one of those.

I’m sorry; I know it’s a film close to the heart of many of the Duke’s admirers. It’s not a great film, and that’s frustrating, because it tries so hard to be great. This is a movie that wanted to be moving, dramatic, epic, and triumphant. This is a movie that wanted to hit one out of the park in honor of that value of all values--motherhood. But it’s lucky when it can slide into second, and spends most of the time in a dancing lead-off from first.

The movie starts with three brothers waiting for a train (reminiscent of the early train platform scene in High Noon). These are three of the eponymous sons of Katie Elder. Tom (Dean Martin), Matt (Earl Holliman), and young Bud (Michael Anderson, Jr) watch to see if their oldest brother, John (the elder Elder?) will show up for their mother’s funeral. When John (John Wayne) doesn’t arrive, everyone is relieved, because John is apparently a gunslinger of some renown.

But no, wait, John did show up after all, sneaking into town, and he and his brothers have a long-overdue reunion. We hear non-stop for the first twenty minutes what a great woman Katie Elder was, and the whole town expresses their disappointment at the way her three oldest sons turned out. Young Bud chafes under the pressure of being the family’s last hope for respectability.

Of course, things aren’t right in the town, and the presence of the Elder boys stirs up questions better left unasked. These are questions that can only be answered through a man-to-man show-down between John and the town’s most powerful citizen, Morgan Hastings, played with a calm and determined evil by James Gregory.

I know how I’m supposed to feel in this film. I’m supposed to feel the bond re-forging between the estranged brothers. I’m supposed to feel Katie’s presence with them, inspiring them to be better. I’m supposed to cheer them on when they stand up to lies and injustice. And that’s why I say this movie tries to be great, but never quite makes it. I could see what it wanted me to do. I just never wanted to do it.

For some reason, the pieces just don’t come together on this one. Elmer Bernstein phones in his score, the “absent presence” of Katie is just too forced, and I never feel like anything’s at stake. There’s no reason for them to stay and take a stand, so I don’t really care if they do. They can go be bro’s somewhere where people aren’t shooting at them. I know which brother is going to die, and I know which brother has to make it all right in the end.

The biggest problem in this film, ironically, is John Wayne himself. He’s too old for this role. He’s 58, and frankly just too old to play the cold, hard gunslinger. It’s ten more years before we get a cinematic acknowledgement of that fact, in Wayne’s greatest film, The Shootist. For now, he’s trying to be the oldest brother in a cast with whom he has no chemistry, and with whom he’s just too old to play. It defies credibility that John Wayne, age 58, is the brother of Michael Anderson, Jr, age 22. Of course, only Bud’s age is given—the character is 18—but even so, it’s too much of a stretch to put these men in the same generation when Wayne could be Anderson’s grandfather. I couldn’t get past the age thing; perhaps if Wayne had toned it down, played it straighter and lighter, it wouldn’t have been a problem for me.

The other three brothers, however, actually work well together. Dean Martin gives a powerfully understated performance as Tom, the second brother, a professional gambler with a few secrets to hide. It’s to him one’s eye drifts time and time again while Wayne is blustering and stomping through the scene. Earl Holliman is strong and steady as the quiet third brother, and Anderson is sufficiently “aw-shucks” to be the kid about to lose his innocence.

Mention should be made of Paul Fix, the calm but strong sheriff of the town, who provided a steady presence in contrast to the Elders’ perceived trouble-making. This was also an early role for a high-strung and skinny Dennis Hopper, who was as weak and sniveling as Wayne was big and manly.

In the end, despite its aspirations of greatness, director Henry Hathaway merely managed to make a nice John Wayne film. If the film had been more faithful to its story than to its star, it might have been as great as it wanted to be.