Sergeant Rutledge

One of two late career atonement projects, the other being "Cheyenne Autumn", from John Ford to make up for racism toward African and Native Americans in his earlier films. Of the two this is clearly the superior. It is crisply paced, as opposed to the too rambling and drawn out "Autumn", and darker as well since it introduces, on top of racial prejudice, the evil of sexual perversion, definitely uncharted territory for a film maker whose attitude toward women was protective and gallant to a fault. So it's interesting to see how Ford deals with this uncomfortable material which he does, in my opinion, fairly forthrightly, and without too much histrionics.

My criticism of this film is, like its pace, crisp: Too little Woody Strode, too much Jeffrey Hunter, and WAY too much Billie Burke (as in "go back to that Victor Fleming movie you wandered in from"). Give it a B.