Cinema Hype

When I started Project 501, I thought a lot about all of the great movies I was going to get to watch. It Happened One Night! An American in Paris! Think of all of the rich stories and beautiful cinematography! The whole thing sounded so exciting! I thought a lot less about the war movies and the westerns–fine films that aren’t as…relatable, I guess, for a woman in her 20s. So coming upon Cimarron, the first western in the Best Picture dynasty, was a bit of a stretch for this critic. I sat down knowing that I needed to watch the movie eventually, but also not really feeling enthusiastic for a movie about the Oklahoma land grab. Sue me.

I’m pleased to say that I was wrong. Cimarron, it turns out, is…well, it’s kind of great.

You may have seen the opening sequence before: at the sound of a starting gun, thousands of people run, gallop, and drive their covered wagons into the Oklahoma territory to claim their free land. It’s chaos–the fastest riders take off, zigging and zagging; wagons collide and flip over; there’s even a man on an old-fashioned bicycle making his way through the grass. It’s a big scene–a long scene–even by today’s standards; in 1931, it must have been unspeakably expensive to film. It’s a testament to the director’s eye that seventy-six years later, his opening scene is still a little bit thrill-inducing.

The rest of the film is equally good. The secret to Cimarron is that it isn’t a western in the traditional sense: it takes place on the frontier, but it’s not really about posses and shootouts and riding the range in the West. It’s about family life–Yancey Cravat (Richard Dix) and his fearful, delicate wife Sabra (Irene Dunne) are among the founding settlers of Osage, Oklahoma, and build their public and private lives there over the course of forty years. It’s a good mix of engaging plot and epic family drama–there’s plenty going on, but Director Wesley Ruggles also makes it character-driven in a way that keeps it from being over-grand in the way that so many epics are. He keeps things moving with horses and saloons and the occasional gunfight, but those things serve the characters–Yancey’s good but restless heart and Sabra’s latent strength–over the long haul of the movie. Because so many Best Picture winners are mile-wide-inch-deep epics, it’s refreshing to see a big movie that takes the time to get to know its characters. The ending feels inevitable for Yancey and somehow surprising–but exciting–for Sabra. There’s been growth, but it’s growth that makes sense. Essentially, Ruggles ends up with a film that’s just the right size.

The upshot: A good place to start if you’re afraid of westerns. A delight from the very beginning.

Next up: Grand Hotel!