Elmer Bernstein’s Musical Representations of John Wayne
Elmer Bernstein (1922-2004) wrote music for a variety of Westerns and he is often cited as one of the finest composers of the genre. While those of a certain generation may associate Bernstein’s familiar score for The Magnificent Seven (1960) with the Marlboro Man, a younger audience is now hearing the same music accompanying Bruce Springsteen as he appears on stage.[1]
The concept of associating strong music with a heroic or larger-than-life persona is characteristic of classic Hollywood, and many leading men are indebted to composers who complemented and strengthened their acting with appropriate music. Errol Flynn often credited composer Erich Korngold (1897-1957) with enhancing his career, just as Max Steiner (1888-1971) is said to have promoted Bette Davis and others. Although limited to the last six of John Wayne’s 84 Westerns, Bernstein’s music provided a strong, daring accompaniment that matched and often enhanced Wayne’s personality.
This essay considers Bernstein’s musical themes for The Comancheros (1961), The Sons of Katie Elder (1965), True Grit (1969), Big Jake (1971), Cahill, U.S. Marshall (1973), and The Shootist (1976). While the earlier films portray the courageous Wayne through epic melodies and full orchestrations, we experience more nuanced accompaniments in the later films, particularly in The Shootist, where the music reflects an older Wayne whose character (like Wayne himself) is facing death. The lesser quality of the scripts for Big Jake and Cahill are reflected in weaker scores; yet overall, I will show that Bernstein’s musical depiction of Wayne helped to establish the actor’s impressive character.
The name John Wayne has become synonymous with Westerns. Indeed, his first major role was in Raoul Walsh’s The Big Trail in 1930.
After working in several B Westerns, Wayne eventually stood out in John Ford’s Stagecoach (1939). Thus, Wayne launched his career with two of the most important Western directors and then averaged more than one Western per year until his death. Wayne was a Western hero, always portraying the good guy, sometimes with faults, as in True Grit, but nevertheless a character to be contended with and admired for his courage and bravado.
It is paradoxical that Bernstein should have worked on Wayne’s films considering their polarized political stances. Bernstein was not quite a card-carrying Communist but his leftist leanings were well known and he was “grey-listed” (not quite blacklisted) in the 1950s. Wayne, on the other hand, was outspokenly conservative; some would even say he was a racist. Although they did not see eye-to-eye politically, Bernstein focused on the task at hand and composed memorable melodies that highlighted the stand-out characters in Wayne’s last six Westerns films, including his final one, The Shootist (1975).
Musical accompaniment for the Western has developed over the years, as revealed in Wayne’s early films. Initially sparse and confined to well-known tunes that reflect the time period and geographic location, as in The Big Trail, later scores were developed so that the music also delineated specific personalities, as in Stagecoach. In much later films, such as Angel and the Badman (James Edward Grant, 1947) and Three Godfathers (John Ford, 1948), the music (in both of these films composed by Richard Hageman) became more continuous, developing the characters and the plot while driving the action.
Throughout the 1960s Bernstein worked within the standard template of contemporary Western film scores. For instance, two of the films that he scored for Wayne, True Grit and Cahill, U.S. Marshall, feature main title songs, a commercialization ploy especially popular with Westerns that sought to profit from the film and the song, while using both to enhance publicity for the other. In these films the songs are about growing up, a narrative theme in both films, although perhaps not quite as connected to the overall plot. (Movies such as High Noon and Gunfight at the OK Corral featured title songs that previewed the movie’s storyline.). Bernstein’s other Wayne films feature music that is in many ways reminiscent of his dynamic symphonic score for The Magnificent Seven, including an initial fanfare; a short attention-grabbing bit of music prior to stating the main theme; then memorable tunes with an ascending melodic line and lots of syncopation; enhanced by full orchestration with heavy use of brass (particularly French horns); and a predictably ternary structure. However, Bernstein typically added his own unique musical style within the standard parameters and particularly tailored Wayne’s scores to magnify his character.
To simplify this essay I have grouped the six films according to narrative content and musical characteristics, with a final objective that focuses on how Bernstein scored The Shootist so very differently from Wayne’s earlier films. While in the first five films we see Wayne accompanied by heroic music, in his last film the music is much more sensitive and intended to evoke sympathy for the dying gunfighter.
The first three films, The Comancheros (Michael Curtiz, 1961), The Sons of Katie Elder (Henry Hathaway, 1965), and True Grit (Henry Hathaway, 1969), share similar plots where Wayne’s character works cooperatively with others — he is not a lone hero. Bernstein’s music for these films reminds us of what made the soundtrack for The Magnificent Seven (composed just one year before The Comancheros) so successful. The theme presented in the main title is vibrant, highly syncopated, and repetitive enough so that it is easily remembered.
This music is associated with Wayne throughout the film and is usually heard during those scenes where he is seen riding outdoors or doing something brave. Yet Bernstein varies his musical materials depending on what is happening in the narrative. For instance, Bernstein underscores the warming relationship between Cutter (John Wayne) and Regret (Stuart Whitman) in The Comancheros with a pastoral setting of the main theme, matching the exterior backdrop. Notice the accompaniment to the theme, which sounds like rippling water.
We hear it again later in the film when Cutter and Regret appear with Pilar (Ina Balin) to ask Esteban (Richard Devon) for his help. The theme is heard quietly and hesitant at the beginning, but then becomes more forthright as his agreement is implied.
In The Sons of Katie Elder Wayne (playing John Elder) shares the spotlight and the main theme, with his brothers. The family as a whole is characterized by the same heroic, action-packed theme, which is heard primarily as they ride. Thus, it is not so much Wayne’s character, but the entire family as one is portrayed as heroic.
In True Grit Glen Campbell, who plays the supporting role of La Boeuf (hilariously pronounced “La beef”), sings the main title song. Bernstein disliked working with title songs, but he was left with little choice in the matter.
Bernstein uses the melody of the title song throughout to support the character of Mattie Ross (played by Kim Darby). However, for Rooster Cogburn (Wayne’s character) the music is more heroic and syncopated. It is less lyrical, although Bernstein approximates the melody of the song, mainly in direction and overall shape, as well as harmonic motion.
Bernstein varies Wayne’s theme in particular places where his personality and actions require a slightly different take on his character, as in the scene on the trail when Cogburn is drinking. His theme changes as we experience him getting drunker until eventually the opening motive of the theme is presented in a dissonant (i.e. inebriated) arrangement, and the music mimics him falling off of his horse. (Notice the loping music in the middle of this scene — Bernstein will do something similar for the main title of The Shootist.)
[A short note about the original soundtrack album: To really appreciate Bernstein’s score, one needs to watch the film. There are some wonderful instrumental cues, often quite short, that develop the narrative in interesting ways. The soundtrack album contains arrangements of Bernstein’s melodies by others and often for non-orchestral instruments. It is horrific.]
In the next two films, Big Jake (George Sherman, 1971) and Cahill, U.S. Marshall (Andrew V. McLaglen, 1973) Wayne portrays a family patriarch who wrestles with bad guys along with family issues. Big Jake takes place in the modern West (1909) so the film contains motorized vehicles and starts with a newsreel that situates the narrative chronologically. The music changes throughout the newsreel, depending on the visual, yet the opening of Wayne’s theme is heard when his name appears in the credits and also at the film’s title. (Note: The newsreel-styled opening is much longer than this clip.)
As in previous films, Bernstein manipulates the music to fit with narrative changes. For instance, Jake competes with modern technology as the Marshall and his posse use cars instead of horses to seek the bad guys. Jake comes across the group after they are ambushed and left stranded.
The music that accompanies his entrance into this scene is quietly judgmental and disapproving. The plucked strings sound discordantly against the solo woodwind and then muted trumpet that play an altered version of Jake’s theme. As he comes close and stops, note the solo percussion and the low tones in the bass clarinet. The dark tone color and the thin instrumental texture communicate the somber atmosphere. Even before he asks the question (“And the boy?”), you know he’s not going to get a positive response.
The song in Cahill, “A Man Gets to Thinking,” sung by Charlie Rich, is not heard until the middle of the film. The song is meant to highlight Wayne’s character, Cahill, who has been an absentee father. Yet it is heard during a scene that features his sons, who are facing a moral dilemma. The song is rather slow and introspective, yet when we hear the melody associated with Wayne, it is faster and more heroic. By using the same melody for both characters (father and son), Bernstein suggests the lyrics of the song may be applicable to both, crossing the generations.
We first hear the melody of the song during the main title, however. The film starts with a short preview, establishing Wayne’s character in a confrontational situation (much like Big Jake). The theme is introduced by a short fanfare in the French horns accompanied by quick syncopated rhythms. A fully orchestrated version of the melody (at :20 in the clip) is heard next, with echoing accompaniment during the extended notes. When it is repeated, it is more relaxed, played by the horns alone, with shimmering woodwinds and strings for accompaniment.
Throughout these films Bernstein was tasked with presenting Wayne as a vibrant hero and character to be dealt with, but also as an aging actor (or gunslinger). These films were produced as Wayne was in his late 50s and 60s [he died at 72 in 1979], and in 1964 (after The Comancheros) he had his left lung removed. The aggressive music in these films evokes a persona that is more than perhaps what Wayne was actually feeling at the time. It recalls the youthful Wayne and audibly recreates that earlier image. Bernstein’s talent for musical characterization is particularly well exemplified in these six films, but especially so in the last one.
The Shootist, similar to Big Jake, starts with narration, but it features real clips from Wayne’s old Westerns that provide the backstory on his character. The differing manner of the opening of the film signals that this will be a different movie for Wayne, that his character, J. B. Books, will be different, and the music supports this distinction. The narrative takes Books, a retired gunfighter (classic Western fare), through his last days as he comes to terms with the end of his life. Books sees an old lover and they reminisce over their regrets, but mainly he passes along his wisdom to the young boy, Gillam (played by Ron Howard) and shares his final moments with Mrs. Rogers (Lauren Bacall).
The music in the main title, which sets the tone for the film and its characters, features a loping accompaniment with the horsey rhythm articulated by jingling percussion that emulates spurs. The main melody, like Bernstein’s previous Wayne themes, is characterized by an ascending interval, suggesting bravery. However, it is not a fully developed melody, nor is it as intense, suggesting a waning strength, such as that which comes with age and infirmity.
This music is only heard once more in the film, at the end where Books is just about to finish things off in a shootout he has coordinated. In between these two statements, the music is sparse and played subtly by small combinations of instruments. (Bernstein at his best.) There are also long stretches with no music at all (although this could have been a result of post-production editing).
What music there is reflects Bernstein’s sensitivity towards the dying gunfighter, J. B. Books, and possibly Wayne’s own imminent death. Most of the cues are quiet, intimate, and lovely. There is none of the heroic music associated with Wayne from previous films. Here his heroism is of an internal, “innig” kind, not the kind that needs broadcasting through loud, brave music. He only shares it with Mrs. Rogers and Gillam. The music lacks the punch and in your face quality of the previous Wayne films, indicating that this film is a “character” piece and not a classic shoot-em-up.
Most of the music that accompanies Books features a piano or other keyboard instrument, rather than a full orchestra with lots of brass, as was evident in the earlier films.
The first instance of this different music is heard when Books tells Mrs. Rogers that he is dying and will pay her extra so he can stay in her boarding house. This is a very short cue and is surrounded by silence, making the scene particularly poignant. The instrumentation and melody of this cue are extraordinarily similar to the main title from Bernstein’s favorite and most sensitively crafted score, To Kill a Mockingbird (1962). Similar music is heard at other emotional moments, such as when Books is with the doctor (played by James Stewart) and near the end when he tells Mrs. Rogers goodbye.
Whereas in the earlier films Wayne acted daring and there are action scenes, in The Shootist there are few, thus offering scarce opportunities for heroic music.
The Shootist was quite different from Wayne’s previous films. He was old and not as handsome, his character was in pain and facing death. The film did not do well at the box office. In retrospect the film is a memorial or tribute to Wayne, especially considering the clips from his earlier movies that open the film (Red River [1948], Hondo [1953], Rio Bravo [1959], and El Dorado [1966]) narrated with admiration and respect by Ron Howard. Two years after the release of The Shootist, Wayne died.
Scoring Wayne’s westerns represented a significant part of Bernstein’s legacy and had a great deal of influence on how we perceived Wayne in the films. Whether audiences liked or hated Wayne on a personal/political level, Bernstein was able to musically portray whatever was necessary to enhance Wayne’s characters and ultimately make him into the epitome of the American male Western hero.
[1] See for example video clips of recent concerts: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CACHYtEc2s4, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iHmMqbaT4rI.