One thing that can be said without fear of contradiction in this fictionalized but surprisingly balanced story of the Seminole Wars in Florida, is that Richard Carlson as the stern and punctilious Commander of Fort King has never given a more energetic performance.
He's hardly recognizable as the thoughtful amateur astronomer of "It Came From Outer Space." His voice seems to have soared to a new octave. He paces back and forth, spitting out his plosives, explaining to the newly arrived Lieutenant Rock Hudson that the Seminoles, previously peaceful, refuse to be relocated to Oklahoma like any reasonable tribe. Instead they've become a "renegade band" under the leadership of Anthony Quinn as Osceola, a real historical figure.
Hudson looks a little ridiculous in the Army uniform of 1835 -- that toy soldier hat, those fringe-dripping golden epaulets -- just as all the other soldiers do, just as our soldiers will look to the people of 2135. This is an early performance and it's earnest and artless.
Let me anticipate a post-script. First, the Seminole weren't the original inhabitants of the Everglades. They replaced a less sophisticated society called the Calusa, now represented only by buried artifacts and momentous mounds of sea shells. Second, the Seminole are still there and still live in huts called chickees. The Seminole didn't hold with slavery and they were joined by many runaways, which didn't endear the Seminoles to their white neighbors. Now they seem to survive through tourism and by keeping out of the way. When an Eastern Airlines passenger aircraft plowed into the Everglades about 20 years ago, no Seminole showed up in the rescue party. They can hardly be blamed. The Everglades are slowly being drained to provide water for communities elsewhere. It's changing the National Park from swamp to grassland, which seems like a bad idea, but that's just my opinion.
Out from behind the lectern and into the movie. It's a product of the 1950s. After a grueling three-day trudge through the swamp, the men remain closely shaved by the studio barber. A clip on the jaw suffices to render a man unconscious for as long as the script requires. The sound track employs cries of the kookaburra, an Australian kingfisher that first was used in "Tarzan and the Green Goddess" (1938), in which Tarzan of the Apes discovers an ancient recipe for salad dressing.
The female interest, Barbara Hale, is pretty, wears her hair in a modern style instead of the unsightly loaves of the period. She wears Max Factor and is never without precisely applied lipstick. And her role is a familiar one that has always worked -- she's torn between the uniformed Rock Hudson and their old friend, Anthony Quinn, who now leads his tribe in the swamp. Hudson is a tall, handsome white man. Quinn is a poor, proud, impassioned half-Indian. Guess who gets her.
If you've seen John Ford's "Fort Apache" (1948) you'll have a decent idea of the plot. Martinet (Henry Fonda) wants war; younger officer (John Wayne) tries to discourage him.
He's hardly recognizable as the thoughtful amateur astronomer of "It Came From Outer Space." His voice seems to have soared to a new octave. He paces back and forth, spitting out his plosives, explaining to the newly arrived Lieutenant Rock Hudson that the Seminoles, previously peaceful, refuse to be relocated to Oklahoma like any reasonable tribe. Instead they've become a "renegade band" under the leadership of Anthony Quinn as Osceola, a real historical figure.
Hudson looks a little ridiculous in the Army uniform of 1835 -- that toy soldier hat, those fringe-dripping golden epaulets -- just as all the other soldiers do, just as our soldiers will look to the people of 2135. This is an early performance and it's earnest and artless.
Let me anticipate a post-script. First, the Seminole weren't the original inhabitants of the Everglades. They replaced a less sophisticated society called the Calusa, now represented only by buried artifacts and momentous mounds of sea shells. Second, the Seminole are still there and still live in huts called chickees. The Seminole didn't hold with slavery and they were joined by many runaways, which didn't endear the Seminoles to their white neighbors. Now they seem to survive through tourism and by keeping out of the way. When an Eastern Airlines passenger aircraft plowed into the Everglades about 20 years ago, no Seminole showed up in the rescue party. They can hardly be blamed. The Everglades are slowly being drained to provide water for communities elsewhere. It's changing the National Park from swamp to grassland, which seems like a bad idea, but that's just my opinion.
Out from behind the lectern and into the movie. It's a product of the 1950s. After a grueling three-day trudge through the swamp, the men remain closely shaved by the studio barber. A clip on the jaw suffices to render a man unconscious for as long as the script requires. The sound track employs cries of the kookaburra, an Australian kingfisher that first was used in "Tarzan and the Green Goddess" (1938), in which Tarzan of the Apes discovers an ancient recipe for salad dressing.
The female interest, Barbara Hale, is pretty, wears her hair in a modern style instead of the unsightly loaves of the period. She wears Max Factor and is never without precisely applied lipstick. And her role is a familiar one that has always worked -- she's torn between the uniformed Rock Hudson and their old friend, Anthony Quinn, who now leads his tribe in the swamp. Hudson is a tall, handsome white man. Quinn is a poor, proud, impassioned half-Indian. Guess who gets her.
If you've seen John Ford's "Fort Apache" (1948) you'll have a decent idea of the plot. Martinet (Henry Fonda) wants war; younger officer (John Wayne) tries to discourage him.