The 10 "Best" Anti-Heroes, part 5

Whew. I mean, has it been some kind of hard week or what?! I don't like to go much into personal details here on the ol' HH, but here's a rundown.

1. Flew to Jamaica, where I was accosted on the beach by a group of thugs and had to fight them off with coconuts.

2. Went to jury duty, where I was dismissed because it was a drug related case and I showed up in costume as Dr. Gonzo from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

3. Was stuck in a waiting room with some guy on the phone having the "yeah, I've got AIDS" conversation... which quickly devolved into a plan to go his ex-boyfriend's house, throw a brick through his front window, and murder him.

4. Wished my life was as interesting as those things, because I made them all up.

Except the AIDS thing. That actually did happen to me once. Just not this week.

But we're not here to discuss whether there's enough Weird in my life, we're here to discuss anti-heroes. Specifically, the 2nd best anti-hero of them all, according to the crack team of scientists, scholars and dope fiends who came up with this list.

Anti-Hero #2: Ethan Edwards, from The Searchers

Most movies that rise to legendary status are like those rare jewels that never come from behind glass. They are pure... nearly divine, flawless in every move, every motive, every line. They seem to have arisen perfectly formed from the consciousness of a genius and then been miracled to the screen without interruption.

John Ford's The Searchers is not like that. It's premise -- a gunfighter and a young half-breed go on a five year search for a young girl kidnapped by Comanches -- is rudely interrupted by a series of pointless diversions dealing with the half-breed's girlfriend, played by Vera Miles, who's pissed he's been away for so long.

Intended as comic relief, these scenes only serve to annoy us, as we wait impatiently for the return of the dark force that sustains the movie and lifts it beyond these missteps, one of the greatest characters ever put on the screen: Ethan Edwards, the gunfighter, played by John Wayne in undoubtedly his greatest performance.

ANTI: Did I say gunfighter? I meant a bitterly racist, extremely violent gunfighter. A Confederate soldier who never gave up his gun or his sword. It's hinted he's spent the three years since the war fighting as a mercenary for the French in Mexico, and as the movie opens he's come across the great Texas wasteland to his brother's home.

A great impromptu welcoming is made for Ethan, but he's uncomfortable with the attention. His greeting to his brother's wife implies a past relationship. Then an old friend up shows up and asks him to join the Texas Rangers, but Ethan says he took an oath to the Confederacy, and a man's only good for one oath at a time. Listening to him, we suspect the truth: Ethan's only true oath is to himself.

Shortly after Ethan's arrival, cattle belonging to his brother's neighbor are stolen, and a posse, including Ethan and his half-breed nephew Martin, is formed to go after who did it. They follow the trail, only to realize the theft of the cattle was a ploy by Comanches to lure them away from their homes. By the time they can rush back to the Edwards homestead, the Comanches have slaughtered everyone except two of Ethan's nieces, who've been abducted.

They quickly pursue the Comanches, catching up with them at a river where a small skirmish ensues. After the Comanches flee, they follow the trail and come upon the grave of a dead Comanche warrior. Ethan pulls out his gun and shoots his eyes, gunfire echoing in the valley.

Reverend Clayton: What good did that do ya?

Ethan: By what you preach, none. But what the Comanche believes, ain't got no eyes, he can't end the spirit land. Has to wander forever between the winds.

The posse pursues the Comanches a while longer, but eventually most of the men either peel off, get killed or return home, and it's down to Ethan and the half-breed Martin. Martin's sister and Ethan's niece Debbie is still with the Comanches, and the rest of the movie takes the form of their five year search for her.

It's hinted that Ethan's mother was also killed by Comanches years before, and with the assault on his brother's house and the capture of his niece Ethan's hatred becomes all consuming. He's cruel to Martin because he's a half breed, treating him like a child, refusing to let him drink, trying to ditch him. When one night Ethan suspects men will come up on their camp and kill them, he uses Martin as bait before shooting one of the men in the back.

Martin takes the abuse and refuses to leave Ethan's side. Not because he has any love for Ethan, but because of a terrible suspicion he keeps in his heart that grows with the years: Ethan no longer plans to rescue Debbie. He plans to kill her. "She's been living with a buck," Ethan says. And that's not being alive.

Link: things that are uncool.

HERO: After five years, and many close calls, Ethan and Martin finally catch up to the Comanches that captured Debbie. The chief has taken her as one of his wives, and when she runs out to tell them to leave, Ethan pulls out his gun.

"Stand aside," he says. Martin shields her with his body and pulls out his gun, but before anything can happen a Comanche comes over the hill and shoots Ethan with an arrow, and the two men escape.

When they return, it's with a Texas Rangers raiding party. The force attacks the Comanches. Martin kills the chief and scalps him. Debbie flees the battle, but before Martin can do anything, Ethan is after her on a horse. She runs down a hill and into a cave with Ethan close behind. She stumbles suddenly, and flops against the wall of the cave. Ethan comes up and dismounts, gun in hand, and approaches her.

She's been living with a buck.

He looks into her wide and terrified eyes. Her terror is almost childlike. This is the face he's been searching across five years for. First to find, if she was still young, and then to kill.

To kill. He's told himself over and over again. She's not Debbie anymore. She's a Comanche.

By this point, we know Ethan. His hatred is terrible. It consumes him, almost against his own will. But faced with this helpless sight of his own niece, something suddenly softens within him, and he scoops her up into his arms.

"Let's go home, Debbie," he says, and with the battle won they ride the long journey back to the Edwards homestead. They approach slowly, with Debbie on Ethan's horse, and then in his arms. Martin's girlfriend comes out to greet him. They'll soon be married. The sun is setting, a meal almost certainly awaits.

Ethan carries her all the way to porch, where she's greeted by relatives she's long forgotten. They lead her inside.

Standing on the porch, Ethan takes one longing step forward, wanting to join the family, but stops himself. He doesn't belong in there, in all that warmth and happiness. A song swoons with lyrics so perfect they almost seem to have inspired the movie, "his peace of mind, he knows he'll find. But where, oh Lord, Lord where? Ride away, ride away..."

Ethan gives one more mournful look, and turns, as he must, toward the wilderness. Even after all he's been through, he' still not a man at peace with the world or himself. But through his heroic act of mercy, he's managed to restore a sense of harmony to his family. And maybe that's enough.

Greatest closing scene in a movie ever? Perhaps.

The Miscast-ies -- A Tribute to Hilariously Bad Casting

Now and then you really realize how well a movie has been cast. I mean, is there anyone else but Tom Hanks who could have played Forrest Gump? Think about it. Then think about, say, Russell Crowe playing the part. 

"Mama always said life was like a can of whoop-ass."  

But then there are roles that are cast extremely poorly. And because, you know, that's a lot funnier, that's what I'm going to write about. My too-clever-by-half name for this? 

"The Miscast-ies." 

So, with no further delay, the first Miscast-ie goes to......

.........................................(drum roll).........................................

John Wayne... as Olson -- a Swedish (!) farmer -- in The Long Voyage Home (1940). 

Pictured: John Wayne on the set.  

So if you're trying to imagine just how bad Wayne would be at playing a Swedish guy, I've got news for you: he's worse. Truth be told, it's a miracle he doesn't ruin what's actually a pretty good movie. 

Actually, let me rephrase. The reason he doesn't ruin the movie is because director John Ford, not being a complete dumbass (only a big enough dumbass to cast John Wayne as a Swedish guy), cut out almost all of Wayne's dialogue, to the point where it took me like an hour and 20 minutes before I figured he was supposed to be Swedish and not Irish. By the end of the movie, though, he's jabbering on and on, in such a ridiculous sing-songy kind of Swedish mumbo jumbo it's amazing it wasn't declared a hate crime.  

Unfortunately, there aren't clips on YouTube to show you the massacre Wayne made of it, but imagine Wayne trying to play one of the Minnesottans from Fargo and you'll get pretty close to the cringing hilarity of it. As a video consolation prize, however, here's the video of another legendarily bad John Wayne performance -- as Genghis Khan in The Conqueror.

As you'll notice, this is the entire movie. Since it's considered one of the shittiest movies ever made, I wouldn't recommend watching it. But to get an idea of Wayne's total incompetence with accents, fast forward to about 3:50. 

So there you have it. It's a pretty simple equation, really. 

John Wayne doing accent = John Wayne giving crappy performance. 

Fortunately, after The Conqueror he learned his lesson and went back to shooting bad guys and using his regularly weird pausing-in-the-middle-of-sentences way of speaking. Unfortunately, due to the fact that The Conqueror was filmed near a nuclear test site, there's a pretty good chance that making the movie actually led to his cancer, and thus his death. 

The Long Voyage Home was much kinder to him, as the movie, these days, is mostly forgotten. This allowed Wayne to move on to far more important things, like making meatballs.