A truly unique western, "Westward The Women" follows the often grueling months-long trek of several dozen mail-order brides, led by Robert Taylor, from Chicago to California in 1851.
Lacking any musical score, except a title melody at the outset and some incidental music near the end, the film virtually plays like a documentary, utilizing unglamorous and extensive location shooting (despite a final MGM "Made In Hollywood" credit--little was actually shot inside a soundstage). Taylor, in an atypical role perhaps better suited to James Stewart, is a hard-driving, rough-hewn veteran cowboy who is at first highly suspicious of the women's chance of success, but eventually he is impressed, even overwhelmed, by their courage and fortitude amidst tremendous hardships encountered along the trail--hostile Indians, rough terrain, dust- and rain-storms, rationed water, and the unwanted advances from some of the dozen or so men accompanying them.
Director William Wellman's unpretentious approach to the theme of survival at any cost is enhanced by the stark black and white cinematography and deliberate avoidance of glossing over the harsher aspects of life on a wagon train in the nineteenth century; all the female characters are shot utilizing mostly flat, natural light sources, perhaps a daring choice by Wellman during the glamour-intensive fifties. The frankness with which he deals with the unbridled attraction many of the men and women exhibit toward each other is fascinating--in such a time and place formality is purely an afterthought when individuals are so alone in a land so untamed. Many of the men stare at the women like gold coins in a treasure chest; but the women are equally enthralled, each wondering if this is the match they've worked and waited for, for so long.
The women's eventual arrival in California, at tremendous cost both physically and personally (many of the original 100 or so women have died along the trail), is both touching and bittersweet. Though the outcome is to be expected, it is also tremendously satisfying, not for seemingly sentimental reasons but because the reward has been so hard won. Upon their arrival, the women refuse to meet their future husbands until they are allowed time to make themselves "presentable". What could easily be deemed an exercise in vanity is actually a demonstration of these women's will to fully finish what they've started; their desire to present themselves to the men in their best light is symbolic of their ultimate survival against overwhelming odds. They are, in essence, saying "we have won the battle, we are unscathed, and you must show us the respect we deserve".
One can not help but wonder if such a tale is not far from the truth, that thousands of women like those depicted in the movie braved the prairie for merely the hope of making a new life in the West. And it is that thought that ultimately makes "Westward The Women" resonate--that the West was tamed by both men AND women, and that their brave efforts and tremendous sacrifice should not be all but forgotten today.
Lacking any musical score, except a title melody at the outset and some incidental music near the end, the film virtually plays like a documentary, utilizing unglamorous and extensive location shooting (despite a final MGM "Made In Hollywood" credit--little was actually shot inside a soundstage). Taylor, in an atypical role perhaps better suited to James Stewart, is a hard-driving, rough-hewn veteran cowboy who is at first highly suspicious of the women's chance of success, but eventually he is impressed, even overwhelmed, by their courage and fortitude amidst tremendous hardships encountered along the trail--hostile Indians, rough terrain, dust- and rain-storms, rationed water, and the unwanted advances from some of the dozen or so men accompanying them.
Director William Wellman's unpretentious approach to the theme of survival at any cost is enhanced by the stark black and white cinematography and deliberate avoidance of glossing over the harsher aspects of life on a wagon train in the nineteenth century; all the female characters are shot utilizing mostly flat, natural light sources, perhaps a daring choice by Wellman during the glamour-intensive fifties. The frankness with which he deals with the unbridled attraction many of the men and women exhibit toward each other is fascinating--in such a time and place formality is purely an afterthought when individuals are so alone in a land so untamed. Many of the men stare at the women like gold coins in a treasure chest; but the women are equally enthralled, each wondering if this is the match they've worked and waited for, for so long.
The women's eventual arrival in California, at tremendous cost both physically and personally (many of the original 100 or so women have died along the trail), is both touching and bittersweet. Though the outcome is to be expected, it is also tremendously satisfying, not for seemingly sentimental reasons but because the reward has been so hard won. Upon their arrival, the women refuse to meet their future husbands until they are allowed time to make themselves "presentable". What could easily be deemed an exercise in vanity is actually a demonstration of these women's will to fully finish what they've started; their desire to present themselves to the men in their best light is symbolic of their ultimate survival against overwhelming odds. They are, in essence, saying "we have won the battle, we are unscathed, and you must show us the respect we deserve".
One can not help but wonder if such a tale is not far from the truth, that thousands of women like those depicted in the movie braved the prairie for merely the hope of making a new life in the West. And it is that thought that ultimately makes "Westward The Women" resonate--that the West was tamed by both men AND women, and that their brave efforts and tremendous sacrifice should not be all but forgotten today.