Três Padrinhos

This was a complete surprise after seeing the John Wayne version first. First of all it is one of the toughest westerns I've seen from the 1930's. Chester Morris is remarkable in his role. The subtlety and naturalism in his acting is really unusual for a film from this era. He says things that would be delivered with a theatrical snarl in lesser westerns but here it comes off believable. Lewis Stone gives depth and Walter Brennan goes from annoying to sympathetic by the end of the film. The baby does a good job as well.

Most westerns from the thirties (especially the serials) are about as unbelievable as you can get and acted unnaturally as well. This film has a gritty realism that wouldn't be seen until the late 50's and the 60's. The script is intellectually well above many other films of the time as well. How many films have ever talked (even briefly) about Schopenhauer? The photography is very good and mostly out of the studio. The only problem the film has is that the actors never really look like they are in desperate health, especially the baby. Other than that I recommend this highly.

Not as well known as the 1948 John Ford version, this one does not spoon feed the issues to the viewer. Harsh, uncompromising and utterly devoid of false bonhomie, Boleslawski made this at almost the same time as the screwball classic, THEODORA GOES WILD.

A trio of desperadoes, fleeing from a violent Christmastime bank robbery, become THREE GODFATHERS after rescuing a dead mother's baby in the desert.

Here is a very fine little film, (largely forgotten due to its color remake years later starring John Wayne) which rewards the fortunate viewer with very good acting, excellent production values, some taut drama and a fair amount of humor.

Lewis Stone dominates the film as the thief with a conscience. Quietly intellectual & patrician, his tenderness for the infant is immediate and absolute. Stone's acting cannot be faulted; watching him painfully choose which of his beloved books to leave behind in the burning desert is to see a true artist at work.

Chester Morris does a dandy job of making the viewer both like and despise his character. Quick-tempered & revengeful, his attack upon the New Jerusalem bank is his opportunity to wreck havoc on both the town which rejected him and the decent young banker in love with his former sweetheart. Morris wants nothing to slow down his escape--not poisoned water holes or dead horses, and especially not a helpless baby.

Walter Brennan practically steals the entire movie with his portrayal of an old, illiterate outlaw whose childlike innocence and decency compels him to protect the infant. He also has some droll comedy sequences, especially at the Church Social, where he has a memorable encounter with a plate of asparagus. His scenes in the desert, with desperate thirst stalking his footsteps, show the consummate skill he would exhibit the rest of his life as one of America's favorite character actors.

In smaller roles, Sidney Toler is wonderfully droll as an itinerate dentist with a deadly aim; bucktoothed Victor Potel is his unfortunate customer. Rotund Roger Imhof plays the friendly sheriff of New Jerusalem; Dorothy Tree is the saloon hostess with a hankering for Morris. Pretty Irene Hervey does well as Morris' former love; her fiancé is nicely played by Robert Livingston, who finds the padding in his Santa suit to be most fortuitous.

In 1929 actor Chester Morris was nominated for an Oscar for his strong performance as an ex-con in Alibi; he spent a good deal of his life playing tough-guy roles, too often typecast in second-tier "B" roles; here, some six years later, he gives a dynamic, believable turn as the bad boy of the town, the man in black who revels in his nastiness, unredeemed by the love of a good woman or anyone else. He and two others pal up together to rob a bank during a church social, and run for the hills, there discovering a dying woman with a child; this could be a really silly melodramatic set-up, but director Richard Boleslawski knows what he is doing, knows how much melodrama to inject into a situation, is able to focus two of the best scene stealers in the business, Walter Brennan and Lewis Stone into producing distinctively compelling characters. This film is a remake of several silent versions, the most notable starring Charles Bickford in the Chester Morris role (and later, more sentimentally, by John Wayne in a color version from John Ford), but the sense of authenticity in the town scenes and the visually arresting desert scenery give the actors a canvas which they do not fail to brilliantly fill in. How often does a character in a Western film recite Macbeth's "Tomorrow" soliloquy from memory, or discuss the intricacies of Schopenhauer with a friendly but uncomprehending cowpoke? Lewis Stone manages a nice turn in his interchanges with Walter Brennan, himself putting the brakes on his usual cornball rustic. The transformation for Chester Morris from unregenerate bum to something admirable is powerfully done, and the intrusion of some 1930's sentiment not entirely unwelcome. In 1936, the Best Oscar nominees were Paul Muni, Spencer Tracy, Gary Cooper, William Powell and Walter Huston; with a better agent, Chester Morris might have been among them.

Though Chester Morris and Lewis Stone aren't exactly names identified with westerns, together with Walter Brennan they do a very nice job in bringing this earlier and harsher version of the story of Three Godfathers, outlaws who give an infant a chance at life.

Rather than the Three Godfathers from John Ford's later and more famous version, a trio of happy go lucky outlaws who rob a bank and get a posse after them, these are a much tougher group who drift into New Jerusalem one at a time. Morris is from there and hasn't got pleasant memories of the place. He's the one who wants to rob the bank and give a little payback to the town, especially to bank manager Robert Livingston who's going to marry Irene Hervey, Morris's former sweetheart.

Of course out on the desert the trio finds a dying woman with an infant and Brennan and Stone want to help, but Morris very reluctantly goes along. Let's just say that they meet a much meaner end than John Ford gave them in his version.

I do love the chemistry between Stone and Brennan, the college graduate who carries Shakespeare and Schopenhauer in his saddlebags and the illiterate nabob. Stone does not however demean Brennan at all and my favorite scene is him singing Boola Boola in the desert which Morris identifies for Brennan as Stone's old school song.

Richard Boleslavski does not give us the sweeping desert vistas of John Ford's Monument Valley, but this Three Godfathers has a class and dignity all its own. I wish it was broadcast more often.