The Last Frontier (Anthony Mann / U.S., 1955):

Anthony Mann's CinemaScope mastery is immediately seen: Tall grass on a slanting glade with a snow-capped mountain in the distance, Sioux warriors emerging from the landscape to surround the protagonists, the camera craning up as the crawling warriors rise to their feet. ("A vegetal beauty," says Godard for Cahiers du Cinéma, in contrast to "the mineral kingdom" of Man of the West.) Trappers during the Civil War, thus the boisterous forest spirit (Victor Mature) who enjoys his freedom and drink but longs for a uniform. The Cavalry fort provides a spot of geometry in the Oregon wilderness, scouts are needed in the conflict with Red Cloud, a soldier's life has its appeal to the mountain man. "Civilization is creeping up on us, lads," warns the Irish comrade (James Whitmore), "calamitous times." Opposite this impulsive animalism is the military rigidity of the Colonel (Robert Preston), whose warpath blunders earned him the title of "Butcher of Shiloh." The officer's wife (Anne Bancroft) is a complex figure, "I've been saved enough," her marital loyalty clashes with her attraction for the ursine misfit. (Their kiss in silhouetted profile cuts sharply to a stumbling guard with a tomahawk in his back.) Ford's Fort Apache is a mainstay in this vigorous rebuke of the Custer mythos, the triangular arrangement at the center is curiously anticipatory of Ray's Bitter Victory. Exceptional high-angled views, the lone horseman riding into an ambush and the cabin suddenly invaded by a vicious sergeant. "Someday I'm gonna take you to pieces." "Do you have anything to do right now?" Stop at the battleground aftermath (bloodied saber and fallen Stetson strewn across the widescreen) instead of the celebratory ending imposed by the studio, and you have Mann's Kagemusha. With Guy Madison, Russell Collins, Peter Whitney, and Pat Hogan.

--- Fernando F. Croce

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