Wichita’s opening credits feature a spoiler-ridden song sung by Tex Ritter, and anyone could be fooled by this in thinking that this is an average Western potboiler. It certainly has the makings of one, and when you break it down in pure plot points and give it only a cursory look, that’s what you’ll get....the story of how Wyatt Earp comes to Wichita, Kansas, cleans up some rough-housing cowboys, and leaves with a new wife. But somehow, the film is anything but an average western. One of the first scenes in the film shows Earp (who we’ll soon see is played by Joel McCrea) riding in deep long shot in the cinemascope frame, and its one of the eeriest long shots I’ve ever seen. He seems to be coming out of nowhere.
And once he gets up close, he’s no less strange. The color of his clothes, the way the light falls on him, his comparatively wooden behavior, the almost ethereal way in which he defeats his two opponents...its all so subtly played, and yet once you see it and absorb it, you can’t unsee it. Wyatt Earp heads into town; Wichita a veritable hustle-and-bustle as the locals prepare for the coming of the cowboys (with whom Earp briefly clashes in the first scene), and even in the genial scenes where he gets to know the townspeople, McCrea’s purposefully wooden performance sets him far apart. His Wyatt Earp is a stubborn gentleman, cleanly and plainly stating his business and getting things done, the idiosyncracies of his behavior apparently beyond the comprehension of the other people.
This is, if you haven’t realized it, a very strange film. There is hardly a scene in the film that feels anywhere near normal; even the ones without Earp seem haunted by the fact that he’s influenced them, and the social ramifications of the appearance of this angel of light begin to take form. Townspeople want him out, the businessmen try to kill him, a woman falls in love with him...and he seems more and more haunted; though he never falters, by his fate, which is inevitably to kill. Its almost like a metaphysical answer to the question of what happens when an umovable object meets an unstoppable force (or vice versa?), as he refuses to budge on his decisions, and the other mortals struggle to make sense of it. It also makes for an interesting comment on capitalism and guns; as Earp’s decision to disarm all the townspeople except lawmen naturally spoils their fun and makes the powers that be very upset.
And in the film’s rigid simplicity, it also brings up the question of the complex nature of law enforcement (Earp’s simple answers aren’t entirely satisfactory, and even their successful implementation brings tragedy), and of good and evil. One of the most unusual scenes in the film is when two gunmen, with bad attitudes, invade the privacy of the saloon, seemingly hired to take on Wyatt Earp...and its only at the last minute that we, and the people in the saloon, realize that these black-clad men are Earp’s brothers. Very unnerving. The way the film is lit and shot only further serves the effective eeriness...Tourneur makes magnificent use of the wide cinemascope frame, capturing very few close-ups, instead showing us a magnificently full image in which McCrea typically dominates, despite usually being such a small part of it, and the film’s lush backgrounds seem to illuminate each scene. Anyway, long before we’re able to make full sense of this film’s strangeness, we have a happy ending with McCrea riding off into the unset with his bride; and by this time, even this image (itself beautifully composed) reeks of some otherworld. Somehow, it seems fitting that this strange film should conclude with such a normal looking ending. Its unnerving in itself.
To be honest, this isn’t the first Tourneur film I’ve seen...Out of the Past, his Lewton films, and Curse/Night of the Demon I’ve also viewed, but alas, this was when I was too young and inexperienced with films; not thoughtful enough. But this feels like the first time a film of his clicked with me, though...and I plan to use this and see more of his films; and backtrack to old ones. And I really hope to see this one again some day, of course. For now, I think this film is a magnificent, weird, and wonderful work of art...a lot of people might disagree; they might not see anything in its weirdness except lazy film making and a bland performance by McCrea. I say bite me. I give this film a 92.
As with The Strawberry Blonde, Wichita is available on Warner’s Archive series, in an absolutely pristine print, and it would look amazing on a pressed DVD or - god willing - Blu-ray. Its a gorgeous film, and definitely deserves it. Unfortunately, the transfer is far less stable than Strawberry Blonde’s, and at times the fluctuations in the picture are very noticable.
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