During the 1940's director Anthony Mann cut his teeth on gritty low budget film noirs (Raw Deal, Border Incident, Side Street), before venturing into tough westerns, often starring James Stewart. 'The Furies' finds him in crossover mode on that rare as hen's teeth phenomenon, the noir western.
With starkly striking black and white photography and a pervading darkly sombre tone, feisty, rebellious Barbara Stanwyck becomes increasingly alienated from her bombastic, despotic father (Walter Huston). Tensions ignite when widowed Huston brings refined, but cold and condescending (especially to Stanwyck) Judith Anderson, home to roost. The friction between them soon escalates into something far more volatile than handbags at five paces. Throw into the mix, deeply despised gambling machine, Wendell Corey and a Mexican family with an axe to grind over land loss and it all adds up to a pretty potent pot of simmering savagery. Even Huston's sporadic bursts of raucous laughter bear an ominously hollow ring.
Unfortunately, amidst all the feuding, bickering and bitter animosity, the narrative loses momentum and fails to generate any real suspense, veering into the realms of talky soap opera. Consequently,the movie draws towards its conclusion stumbling, rather than galloping into the sunset.
With a cast that reads like a 'Who's Who' of ever dependable Hollywood 'A' and 'B' listers, 'The Furies' leaves a peculiar after taste - the sense of an opportunity to create something genuinely memorable, in part, sadly squandered.
NB. For a truly essential noir western, check out 'Pursued' (1946)
With starkly striking black and white photography and a pervading darkly sombre tone, feisty, rebellious Barbara Stanwyck becomes increasingly alienated from her bombastic, despotic father (Walter Huston). Tensions ignite when widowed Huston brings refined, but cold and condescending (especially to Stanwyck) Judith Anderson, home to roost. The friction between them soon escalates into something far more volatile than handbags at five paces. Throw into the mix, deeply despised gambling machine, Wendell Corey and a Mexican family with an axe to grind over land loss and it all adds up to a pretty potent pot of simmering savagery. Even Huston's sporadic bursts of raucous laughter bear an ominously hollow ring.
Unfortunately, amidst all the feuding, bickering and bitter animosity, the narrative loses momentum and fails to generate any real suspense, veering into the realms of talky soap opera. Consequently,the movie draws towards its conclusion stumbling, rather than galloping into the sunset.
With a cast that reads like a 'Who's Who' of ever dependable Hollywood 'A' and 'B' listers, 'The Furies' leaves a peculiar after taste - the sense of an opportunity to create something genuinely memorable, in part, sadly squandered.
NB. For a truly essential noir western, check out 'Pursued' (1946)