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The Well (Harry M. Popkin; United Artists) pulls a switch, in the Hollywood vernacular, on the Negro-problem movie. Its victim of mob hysteria in a small U.S. town is not a Negro, but a white man falsely suspected of abducting a small Negro girl. Then the picture pulls another switch: when they learn that the girl has fallen Into an abandoned well,* the townspeople of both races, who have been at each other's throats, shamefacedly join hands in an all-out effort to rescue her.
Both ideas are ripe with drama and pointed social comment, and compelling enough to survive the uneven treatment the film gives them. The arrest of the white man (Henry Morgan) sets off a chain reaction of street violence, finally pits the sheriff (well played by Richard Rober) and the undermanned police against an angry rabble of whites, armed and led by Morgan's influential, bigoted uncle (Barry Kelly).
The town's abrupt shift from hysteria to contrition seems too sudden to be convincing, but the rescue itself, carried on through the night under the massed glare of automobile headlights, makes a tense, stirring sequence. And though the movie stretches the scene a bit thin, it builds to the climax with a skillful blending of emotional tugs: the race against time, the frantic worry of parents for a child, the inspiration of unselfish teamwork, the affirmation of human dignity in a whole town's effort for the sake of a single life.
The Red Badge of Courage (M-G-M), scrupulously faithful to the classic Stephen Crane novel, is one of the best war films ever made. The real hero of the movie is an Ohio volunteer regiment, marching into its first Civil War battle in a panoply of wind-whipped flags, rolling drums, aligned muskets and parade-ground smartness. The film's great effectiveness lies in the contrast between this brave display and the frightened, dry-mouthed men who give it life.
Avoiding the customary Hollywood clichés of battle, Writer-Director John Huston tells his story as it appears to Audie Murphy (who won the Medal of Honor as a World War II infantryman). Cast as a farm boy who wants desperately to give a good account of himself, he is terrified that he won't. Uneasily silent while his comrades are boisterously telling each other what they'll do to the Johnny Rebs, Murphy's staring eyes and constant swallowing are eloquent of the raw recruit's eternal question: Why is this happening to me? A sharp contrast is drawn between Murphy's pleased astonishment at standing firm against the first Confederate attack and his unreasoning panic when the enemy re-forms and comes on again. This time, Murphy and many of his regiment run for the woods.
Both the camera and the spoken commentary (taken word for word from Crane's novel) are filled with human understanding as they follow Murphy's wanderings through the rear areas. He stumbles along with the walking wounded, stands helplessly by as a good friend dies, gets caught in the floodtide of another retreat and is clubbed by a fleeing soldier when he tries to find out what's going on. Rejoining his regiment, Murphy fights as well on the second day as he did poorly on the first. But he is brilliantly shown to be the same man: equally confused and irrational, whether as a hero or as a coward.