The 1950's are painted in conventional wisdom as a good, upright era, "the good-old days" some might refer to it. But under the surface there was much to be paranoid about. Such as Communists being in our midst (that is the US midst) and a constant threat of nuclear annihilation. So while Bad Day at Black Rock, John Sturges' brilliant peek under the curtain of 1950's upright-Americanism set in 1945, might appear to be just a tale of WW2-era Japanese racism and murder, it's really a piercing allegory into a mind-set. John J. MacCready comes into town as the first man in Black Rock in four years (seems unlikely, but it is, after all, a Western at heart), and is met with total suspicion and paranoia. Is it because of his one hand missing, or how inquisitive he is about going out to the Flatlands where a certain "someone" used to live. At best they're evasive or just a little too scared to help. At worst, they're ready to pull out a gun and shoot.
The mood evoked in this film is prejudice a fear, distrust and group-think to borrow from Orwell. Robert Ryan may have done a bad thing years before- he did it to a certain Japanese man following a drinking binge after Pearl Harbor and his rejection from the recruitment office- but that he gets the townspeople (all but two really, one a lame Sheriff and the other the lowly mortician) to back him up and rally around him with this stranger in town, is indicative of a lot of the country. It's as if MacCready has a big sign around his neck saying "not good, not good" to these people before he even says a word... or rather, when he does say words, and sounds reasonable but tough, they have more reason to be on the defensive - or offense as case turns out.
If the allegory was too thick, however, without good entertainment value the film might have suffered. Millard Kaufman's screenplay might be tarnished if, say, put in the hands of a Stanley Kramer. But in John Sturges' direction he's able to first find what makes the story and characters engrossing and unforgettable. Set-pieces such as the car chase as Borgnine trails after Tracy is terrifying since until now everything has been simmering to a boil and finally pops (although this isn't the only time). And obvious tension is quelled by fantastic dialog. This is the kind of script that with the right talent performing it works wonders. Just hearing how Robert Ryan talks with Spencer Tracy after MacCready's come back from the Japanese farm remains, and how he phrases "graveyard" is pitch perfect as a conversation with so much spoken and a good deal of subtext to Smith's confessions about his lack of service in wartime.
And other things stick out as just being pure enjoyment. Seeing Tracy do his judo chop against Borgnine had me clapping in my seat, but also watch as Lee Marvin acts as a real heavy here and makes a kind of stock character really menacing. When he's in John's room, and won't get up but accuses MacCready of not standing up for himself in a fight, it's damn good writing topped with tough, no-nonsense acting. That's how it goes for a lot of the picture, and Sturges and his cinematographer capture these folks in bright 1950's cinemascope colors that are vibrant and are a great counterpoint to the dark corners of the content in the story.
Lastly, the film's 'allegory' isn't just as a cautionary tale. It also says, perhaps subversively at a time when HUAC and racism was pervasive (not just in the wake of Japanese internment camps but with African-Americans everywhere), that a difference can be made if someone, without pretense or self-righteousness, can stand up to people. It's a fine message wrapped tight inside of a well-constructed and finely acted neo-western.
The mood evoked in this film is prejudice a fear, distrust and group-think to borrow from Orwell. Robert Ryan may have done a bad thing years before- he did it to a certain Japanese man following a drinking binge after Pearl Harbor and his rejection from the recruitment office- but that he gets the townspeople (all but two really, one a lame Sheriff and the other the lowly mortician) to back him up and rally around him with this stranger in town, is indicative of a lot of the country. It's as if MacCready has a big sign around his neck saying "not good, not good" to these people before he even says a word... or rather, when he does say words, and sounds reasonable but tough, they have more reason to be on the defensive - or offense as case turns out.
If the allegory was too thick, however, without good entertainment value the film might have suffered. Millard Kaufman's screenplay might be tarnished if, say, put in the hands of a Stanley Kramer. But in John Sturges' direction he's able to first find what makes the story and characters engrossing and unforgettable. Set-pieces such as the car chase as Borgnine trails after Tracy is terrifying since until now everything has been simmering to a boil and finally pops (although this isn't the only time). And obvious tension is quelled by fantastic dialog. This is the kind of script that with the right talent performing it works wonders. Just hearing how Robert Ryan talks with Spencer Tracy after MacCready's come back from the Japanese farm remains, and how he phrases "graveyard" is pitch perfect as a conversation with so much spoken and a good deal of subtext to Smith's confessions about his lack of service in wartime.
And other things stick out as just being pure enjoyment. Seeing Tracy do his judo chop against Borgnine had me clapping in my seat, but also watch as Lee Marvin acts as a real heavy here and makes a kind of stock character really menacing. When he's in John's room, and won't get up but accuses MacCready of not standing up for himself in a fight, it's damn good writing topped with tough, no-nonsense acting. That's how it goes for a lot of the picture, and Sturges and his cinematographer capture these folks in bright 1950's cinemascope colors that are vibrant and are a great counterpoint to the dark corners of the content in the story.
Lastly, the film's 'allegory' isn't just as a cautionary tale. It also says, perhaps subversively at a time when HUAC and racism was pervasive (not just in the wake of Japanese internment camps but with African-Americans everywhere), that a difference can be made if someone, without pretense or self-righteousness, can stand up to people. It's a fine message wrapped tight inside of a well-constructed and finely acted neo-western.