A six-gun salute to subtle cowboy star Glenn Ford
A Canadian-born Hollywood star unusually adept at portraying average Joes facing seemingly insurmountable circumstances, the perpetually under-appreciated Glenn Ford possessed an effortless grace and undeniable charisma.
Never nominated for an Academy Award, Ford did receive a Golden Globe for his work as a suspicious street savvy gangster in director Frank Capra’s 1961 swansong, Pocketful of Miracles. The World War II veteran once mused why fans kept coming back for more. “When I’m on camera, I have to do things pretty much the way I do things in everyday life,” said Ford. “It gives the audience someone real to identify with.”
Perhaps surprisingly, only 27, or somewhere in the neighborhood of one quarter, of the versatile actor’s 102 films were Westerns, not counting the short-lived modern day Western-police procedural Cade’s County [1971–1972]. Ford’s 1939 inauspicious film debut fittingly came in the quickie B-Western Heaven with a Barbed Wire Fence. Seven years later directorial master Charles Vidor’s stylish black and white film noir Gilda made stars of both Rita Hayworth and Ford.
He made occasional Western forays during the early stages of his career but did not fully capitalize on his affinity for the genre until 1955 with The Violent Men, an underrated range war excursion with Edward G. Robinson and the always resilient Barbara Stanwyck. Coincidentally, The Violent Men also instigated the actor’s proclivity for wearing tan. His working cowboy’s ensemble consisted of a corduroy jacket, long-sleeve shirt, pants, and weathered cowboy hat with sides extensively curled and brim pulled low.
Ford’s incendiary Western streak ran unabated from 1955 until 1958, producing Jubal, The Fastest Gun Alive, 3:10 to Yuma, Cowboy, and The Sheepman. Delmer Daves helmed three including the iconic 3:10 to Yuma, a suspenseful black and white psychological study of a brow-beaten, shotgun-toting farmer escorting the calculating mastermind of a vicious stagecoach-robbing gang to catch a train bound for prison. Glowing critical notices and enviable box office receipts were the name of the game. Incidentally, the title of The Fastest Gun Alive was not the result of an embellished publicity machine — the actor’s sudden draw was reportedly the best in Hollywood — as long as Audie Murphy was not in the vicinity.
As the subsequent decade flowered, Ford left the open range largely behind, content to develop his hilarious deadpan comedy delivery and romantic flair [e.g. The Courtship of Eddie’s Father with Ron Howard]. By 1966 the established Hollywood studio system was being eased out to pasture as a new breed of determined filmmakers were given license to document the turbulent societal upheaval with limited opposition from the antiquated Hays Code. Ford’s box office clout took a considerable hit.
The Experiment in Terror lead actor settled into Westerns for the remainder of his film career. Hands down, the downbeat, unusually brutal Day of the Evil Gun [1968] is his best late-period Western. Executives of the prestigious National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum in Oklahoma City rightly recognized Ford’s cowboy creed in 1978, electing him to the Hall of Great Western Performers just before his sympathetic turn as a bitter, doomed ramrod in the two-part NBC miniseries The Sacketts with Sam Elliott and Tom Selleck.
If you’re still dubious as to whether Ford’s work in the saddle possesses merit, browse through the featured vintage stills and video clips below. Or keep an eye on Encore Westerns or TCM’s upcoming schedules. Ford’s only child Peter Ford has also published the sole in-depth profile of his late father — the commendable Glenn Ford: A Life.
© Jeremy Roberts, 2014, 2018. All rights reserved. To touch base, email jeremylr@windstream.net and mention which story led you my way. I appreciate it sincerely.
