No One Loves The Man Who He Fears: I Shot Jesse James (1949)

Where Howard Hawks would step in to completely perfect a genre, tapping into its varied tropes and ideas to extend them to their fullest possibilities, a filmmaker like Samuel Fuller would, instead; find the exact same tropes and undertake the task of twisting and stretching them to their greatest lengths only to watch them snap and disintegrate into maddening, fleeting moments of cinematic insanity.  One needs only to recall what is perhaps his most evocative work Shock Corridor to see this unfold, but it certainly holds true for his later works, even including White Dog, which may well hold the record for the most obvious metaphor in a film to date.  When compiling my list for the month of viewing I was elated to discover that the ever unusual Fuller had offered a film to the genre.  I Shot Jesse James, while an early work in the Samuel Fuller cannon, nonetheless, exudes all the intensity and fractured psychosis of the director's works, while also managing to create sympathetic and highly likable characters.  Wherein Andrew Dominik's evocative 2007 film The Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward Robert Ford would paint and dark and dismal picture of the famous outlaw's killer, this much earlier work manages to humanize "Bob" Ford, while also reminding viewers that he was clearly far from being sane or put together, and Fuller paints this picture with such exuberance and zeal that it is hard not to fall into the noticeably melodramatic trappings of this film and stay there well after its closing.  With its excellent visual opening credits and a performance by John Ireland, who was recently mentioned in my review of Red River, and some wonderful cinematography, I Shot Jesse James, much like the legend of the outlaw himself seems to take on mythological, almost implausible, proportions.  Indeed, the film was assumed impossible to find for quite some time and the few copies available proved quite desired, so when Criterion released a print it has moments where the film deteriorates and is covered with black spots.  In most any other film this would just be a sign of its age, yet in the world of this film and Fuller's continual concern with the slippage from sanity, these imperfections in the film almost seem preordained and nicely parallel the character of Bob Ford as he deals with his own internal fracturing.

For a film that is called I Shot Jesse James, the film is considerably preoccupied with not concerning the experiences of Jesse James, however, this is indeed where the film begins by focusing on a recent unsuccessful robbery attempt on the part of Jesse James (Reed Hadley) and his notorious gang of outlaws.  The heist is a failure in part because after being shot Bob Ford (John Ireland) drops the money in their escape.  Bob is quite apologetic about the failure, yet, Jesse is more than understanding knowing that it was purely and accident and a result of the wound.  In fact, Jesse is a rather simple man, who lives under an alias in a small Kansas town with his wife, only hoping to cash in a comfortable sum of money in order to rest, it is his gang who have far more complex problems, particularly Bob who desperately desires the adoration of Cynthy (Barbara Britton) a local saloon girl who is also being pursued by the wealthy silver miner John Kelley (Preston Foster).  Bob is fully aware that his financial failings will deter him from success with Cynthy and seeks an alternative means to make money.  When word spreads that any man who kills Jesse James will be afforded a governor's pardon and fame, Bob takes it upon himself to murder the outlaw, an act he does by shooting him in the back, much to the disdain of his gang members and every respectable man in the midwest.  Nonetheless, his pardon allows him to move freely and continue to pursue Cynthy, even attempting to make fame on his infamy.  Of course, this does little for Bob's financial success and he ends up seeking friendship with John, who also desires Cynthy.  When a chance opportunity affords Bob a great reward in silver mining he takes it upon himself to learn the trade and make money, again with the hope of winning the heart of his love.  Cynthy, at this point, is falling for John and is only amiable to Bob out of fear, and when Bob is informed of this information, he takes it upon himself to fight for the girl he loves, drawing guns against John in the street, claiming that he is the only one willing to kill out of love, a fact that is refuted when John guns him down first.  In these dying moments, Bob admits to a crippling guilt for what he had done to Jesse, suggesting a degree of misguided love in that action as well.

I Shot Jesse James adds such layers of complexity to the trope of the outlaw in the western that it is rather amazing that Fuller was not skyrocketed to the same status as Leone or Hawks in regards to making westerns specifically.  I would contest that there is really no other director who manages to subvert the methods of melodrama to heighten the moods of characters with whom the viewers are really not supposed to sympathize.  One could almost read I Shot Jesse James as a film noir work set within the confines of the wild west, although I plan to include an Anthony Mann film this month so it might be best to hold off that analysis until I get to that work.  Melodramatic elements are certainly present within the western, although one would not initially sense them, for example, the use of music to evoke a mood is much credited and even contemporarily parodied within film and is certainly used within I Shot Jesse James, think of the ways in which Aaron Copeland stylistic music is used in something like Red River and then compare that to the violins and swelling of traditional music within I Shot Jesse James, while it involves folk ballads they are a far cry from what exists within the traditional western, again, Fuller is merely using the setting of the western and its tropes to tell a story, he clearly has no concern with it properly fitting the genre format, indeed any other filmmaker would likely have given Jesse James a larger role, but it is not his film, it is about the emotional state of Bob Ford, therefore, Jesse's death some twenty minutes into the film is appropriate and absolutely underplayed.  What is heightened is Bob's reactions and preparation for the assassination, think of the bathtub scene and his intense gaze at the exposed back of Jesse.  This scene involves again heavy use of music, as well as a heightened camera movement that provides close-ups of Bob's face, whereas Leone would use these closeups in an extreme manner, Fuller only goes close enough to Bob to capture his curling desirous grins and beady eyes a clear trope of melodrama that is being subverted and reappropriated to the western genre, to subsequently subvert its elements.  Elements like these are no surprise considering that they came from Fuller he was a man who somehow managed to work within the studio system while rejecting everything it stood for in the process.  I Shot Jesse James is definitively a western while also managing to be anything but a genre piece.

Key Scene:  The bath scene is a master class in scene composition and allows viewers to truly understand the insanity latent in Bob's mind.

This is part of a wonderful box set released by Fuller that includes two of his other early works, I would strongly encourage getting a copy for this film specifically, the other inclusions are jut extra benefits.

Their Sickness Is Bound To Rub Off On You: Shock Corridor (1963)

To blatantly call a work by Samuel Fuller specific to any genre is to severely undersell its brilliance, this is certainly the case with any of his war movies, as well as his more unusual works such as White Dog. Considering this adding Fuller's Shock Corridor to my horror movie viewing list could be read as a bit misguided considering that it is a psychological thriller more than anything else, however, I would make an argument that the psychological thriller, at least as Fuller creates it, exists a work that also infuses horror elements, particularly when you consider that Shock Corridor makes it absolutely clear that in terms of frightening things, nothing is nearly as scary as human beings controlling the thoughts, believes and actions of others, something that saturates Fuller's narrative.  Of course, one cannot expect a melodramatic drama in good taste when talking about this often contested director, particularly considering that he has a way of being a bit on the nose with his social commentary.  Yet, Fuller's commitment to the absolutely exploitative and the dialogue that results from such avenues makes for one hell of a film that is both cinematically rewarding and socially condemning.  It rides happily on the coattails of everything that went wrong ethically in the late 1950's and early 1960's ranging from nuclear warfare, to red scare paranoia as well as a both brilliant and problematic reflection on race relations in America at the time.  Combined into an explosive and literal strike of lightening, Shock Corridor exists in its own world as a piece of cinema so otherworldly that you could only expect it from one Mr. Fuller.

Shock Corridor considers the experience of one Johnny Barrett (Peter Breck) as he, along with the help of some intellectual friends at his newspaper, plans to have himself admitted to a mental hospital with the intention of discovering who murdered one of the patients six months earlier.  In order to succeed at his task, something he believes will earn him a Pulitzer Prize, Johnny recruits the help of his girlfriend Cathy (Constance Towers) to pass as his sister, claiming that Johnny attempted to engage in incest with her on more than one occasion.  Using this socially condemned act as a means for access Johnny is admitted and plays the part of an insane person while he tries to navigate through the insane to discover who murdered a man named Sloan.  This navigation includes talking to individuals like Pagliacci (Larry Tucker) a obese ex-hitman who identifies as a opera singer, one Dr. Menkin (Paul Dubov) who has regressed to childhood after the burdens of being a nuclear physicist became too overwhelming and even a man whose war experiences left him in such shambles that he believes himself to be a Civil War general.  Along the way Johnny must also face a ward of nymphomaniacs, electrotherapy and the judging eye of the warden.  Cathy begins to worry as it become clear that Johnny's interactions with her are becoming more problematic as his mask of sanity is slowly slipping away.  Despite demanding that he leave and asking for help from Johnny's superiors, no luck is had and Johnny remains in the ward.  While he does discover who the killer was and manages to make him confess, by the time he is released from the hospital he is too far gone and is left simply an emotionless body, much to the dismay of a loving Cathy.

The social commentary in this film is a bit on the nose, considering that Fuller suggests that each individuals mental state is fractured as a result of their problematic interactions with other societal forces, whether it be condemning parents, corrupt mobsters or racist Southerners, all the patients clearly find themselves able to regain sanity when they reflect on the events that led them to the mental hospital.  These reflections are always in color, some abstractions, that nonetheless, suggest that their reality is a grounded place and the grey world of the mental ward has been projected upon each of them by societal condemnations.  It makes Johnny's experience quite interesting in that it is he who makes himself crazy, in his situation it is his desire to obtain a prize, something he finds far more valuable than having a loving girlfriend who is willing to bare skin to keep them financially afloat, a fact which haunts him through much of the film.  Interestingly, Fuller appears to consciously keep every physical interaction in the world of black and white, perhaps a suggestion that even the sanest appearing characters throughout the film also suffers from some degree of insanity, particularly the employees of the ward as well as Johnny's boss who clearly does not have his best interests at heart.  In the end, Fuller makes it clear that anybody is susceptible to insanity and that is its far more important to consider why somebody may have gone off the deep end, as opposed to simply condemning them for their lack of social conformity.

Key Scene:  The two scenes involving electricity are quite well edited and the montages are intense

This viewing is thanks to Criterion having an expansive Hulu page with most everyone of their films, yet, I had not realized that this would be such a beautifully shot film and plan to get the bluray in the upcoming months and so should you.