Drums Along the Mohawk

John Ford, 1939

Drums Along the Mohawk is the story of Gilbert Martin (Henry Fonda), a frontier man, and his new aristocratic wife, Lana (Claudette Colbert) trying to make their way as frontier settlers in the context of the Revolutionary War. Gil’s struggle is to make something of his own in the “West” whereas Lana struggles to overcome her high society roots and fulfill her promise to be a supportive frontier wife. Just as things seem to be going their way (meaning exactly 28 minutes into the movie), the Martin homestead is attacked by an army of Tories, British, and Native Americans, forcing Gil and Lana to abandon their fledgling home. Soon Gil and Lana find themselves as live-in employees of the independent widow Mrs. McKlennar. Life on the frontier begins to settle into a somewhat prosperous rhythm until (at 75 minutes in) Mrs. McKlennar and the Martins are again attacked by British-allied Native Americans. The destruction of their new life forces the settlers to flee to nearby Fort Dayton. Surrounded, out-manned, and short on ammunition, the settlers’ fate looks grave. From here, it is up to our hero, Gilbert Martin, to perform his variation of frontier heroics and save the settlers.

One of the most notable things in the opening moments of Drums Along the Mohawk (besides its Technicolor) is the name of John Ford appearing alone on the screen as the last impression of the opening credits. For those auteurist cinephiles, this name does not fail to produce. John Ford lives up to everything that John Ford has come to represent: a male protagonist struggling to make his way in a natural world, beautiful long shots of the American West (which, here, is central New York), and Turnerian frontier ideology. Thematically, the film is a picture of pure Americanism––the self-reliant individual carving his (yes, this is Henry Fonda’s story) way through the American West and all the obstacles that West presents. Unfortunately, this pervasive Fordian and Turnerian ideology asks us to support the white people who are defending their home and neatly ignore the fact that the red people are merely doing the same.

Putting aside its ideological flaws, Drums Along the Mohawk is a fine piece of craft. The Technicolor (Ford’s first) is perfect. It seems less flushed than films like Gone with the Wind or The Wizard of Oz, which gives it a rugged atmosphere quite appropriate for its setting. Also, Edna May Oliver plays Mrs. McKlennar and may be the runaway star of the film. She is perhaps the strongest female character 1930s cinema has known. She is self-reliant, independent, and fearless––and she doesn’t give these qualities up for a man. What’s more: she’s hilarious. Nominated for Best Supporting Actress, she most certainly should have won. Whether for auteurist love of Ford, fondness of confusing frontier ideology, or admiration of strong female characters, this film is well worth the time.

Charlie Diehl