38 / CHRONICLESntechnical film jargon. The reader mustnrepeatedly endure sentences like these:n”The Gary and Marty scenes arenplayed on a high level of spontaneousningenuousness typical of Ford’s experimentalnrepresentationalism. . . .nNaturally this comedic style seemsnmore artificial than the grim, sculpturalnverismo.” (Would anyone care tondefine “representationalism,” let alonen”experimental representationalism”?nGallagher does not. As for “sculpturalnverismo”—I won’t even ask.)nSecond, Gallagher’s critical tastenoften seems as eccentric as his writing,nand some discussions are incrediblynself-indulgent: 18 pages spent on ThenSun Shines Bright (1953), an essentiallynminor remake oi Judge Priest (1934),nwhich has already received its ownndetailed analysis; 30 pages spent on anscene-by-scene recounting oiThe MannWho Shot Liberty Valence (1962).nThese movies — and others, likenthe obscure Pilgrimage (1933) —nGallagher considers the essenhal Ford:ndark, expressionistic stuff with barelyna real outdoors scene. Mogambon(1954) — Mogambo! — receives farnmore attention than either TheynWere Expendable (1945) or 3 Godfathersn(1948). As Gallagher is severalntimes forced to admit, his interpretationsnand his evaluations of Ford’snwork would not suggest themselves tonthe ordinary viewer.nBut if John Ford has continuingncultural importance—if, indeed, he isna central cultural figure of post-WorldnWar II America—it is because of hisnnaturalistic outdoor epics. These beginnwith the huge, silent The Iron Horsen(1924—barely mentioned by Gallagher),nand continued through Stagecoachn(1939) to the great populist masterpiecesnof the late 40’s: Fort Apachen(1948), She Wore a Yellow Ribbonn(1949), Rio Grande (1950). These latternmovies, eternally fresh and exhilaratingnto the viewer (I can personallynattest to their impact even on a cynicalnBerkeley audience), Gallagher dismissesnas crowd-pleasing minor worksnthat made money.nMoreover, insofar as Gallagher hasna good word to say about these movies,nit is because he sees them as subversive,nundermining and exploding thenmyth of the American military. Hisntreatment of Fort Apache is typical.nGallagher alleges that by showing Col­nonel Owen Thursday (Henry Fonda) asna virtually insane martinet whose famousncharge was in fact a massacre,nFord destroys the honor of the regiment,nwhich he shows John Wayne (asnThursday’s successor) upholding in thenlast scene in his lies to Eastern reporters.nGallagher has missed the point.nFord was a patriot, but no naive one.nHis own experiences in the SecondnWorld War had brought home to himnthe often suicidal stupidity of the militaryn(his documentary on Pearl Harbornhad been suppressed). Nevertheless,nfor Ford the good outweighs the (acknowledged)nevil, and so the institutionnmust be upheld. Herein lies thentheme of Fort Apache.nGallagher is able to recognize Ford’snsocial conservatism when portrayed, asnin the beautiful The Quiet Mann(1952), in a village in Ireland. Here,nInnisfree and all its social strata arendepicted in loving detail by Ford,nthough the narrow-minded, repressivenaspects of the village’s culture are notnignored, and the theme of the film isnin fact the socialization (that is, hisnacceptance of the village traditions) ofnthe returned American Sean Thorntonn(John Wayne). It is a process thatnleads, under Ford’s approving eye, to ancheerful ending. But in Fort Apache,nWayne is again socialized, this time tonthe ideal of duty as taught by ColonelnThursday, and in Yellow Ribbon andnRio Grande, Wayne (now portrayingnan older man) is sympathetically depictednas himself the transmitter ofn(military) tradition to youth. Gallagher’snfashionable antimilitarism preventsnhim from seeing that Ford’s Augustiniannview of Innisfree applies asnwell to the military and-its problems:nHe forgets that Ford, after all, was annadmiral.nThus Ford validates myth and showsnus the process by which the (oftennterrible) facts are transfigured into legendsncelebrating the community: annecessary thing, though sometimes ansad one. Ford was steeped in historicalnlearning about the 19th century, but itnis typical that before filming he wouldnplay Victorian songs over and over: Henwanted to recapture not the facts butnthe mood. Similarly, his movies arenconsciously based on Victorian paintingsn(especially those of Frederic Remington)nthat were highly mythologized.nThe actual links with historical real­nnnity are therefore not as important tonFord as the beauty of the image. ThenGunfight at the O.K. Corral, whichnclimaxes My Darling Clementinen(1946), provides a case in point. Fordnactually knew Wyatt Earp personally:nDuring the 20’s Earp, escaping fromnhis nagging wife in Pasadena, used toncome to drink and play cards at Ford’snhouse in Hollywood. Reviewers assumedn(and Ford never disabusednthem of the assumption) that the versionnof the O.K. Corral in Clementinenwas therefore pretty close to historicalnreality. It is not: Ford clearly filmed itnfor the sake of the dreamlike vision ofnHenry Fonda as Earp disappearing intonthe cloud of desert dust, to have it outnunseen with pistols against the Clantonsn(in reality, everybody carriednshotguns). Ford, from beginning tonend, was an Irish poet. That is hisnglory.nBut, it ought to be emphasized,nFord’s glory is not his alone: Moviemakingnis, above all, a collaborativenenterprise. Ford was a great photographernand a great commander of actors,nbut to his great frustration he was anfailure as a writer of screenplays (hensatirized himself about this in ThenWings of Eagles); and so he had tonwork from other people’s scripts. Innpublic. Ford could sometimes act cavalierlynwith scripts, even tearing themnup with glee before his actors. But thisnis mostiy (again) a constructed persona:nGallagher shows that Ford generallynfollowed scripts closely (the changesnwere matters of emphasis). Notnenough credit for Ford’s great work innthe late 40’s and 50’s has gone to thenscreenwriter on whom he constantlynrelied in this period: Frank S. Nugent.nStarting in 1948, Nugent producednfor Ford the screenplays of FortnApache, 3 Godfathers, She Wore anYellow Ribbon, Wagon Master, ThenQuiet Man, The Searchers, The Risingnof the Moon, The Last Hurrah, TwonRode Together, and Donovans Reef.nThis is simply an extraordinarynachievement; at the least, Nugent deservesnrecognition as coauthor of thenFordian mythology of America thatnemerged in these years. The point isnproven by comparing Ford’s work innhis great period with his work done innthe 30’s, when his constant screenwriternwas Dudley Nichols: These filmsnare visually more expressionistic (i.e..n