GONE TO TEXAS (1986, TV, Directed by Peter Levin, starring Sam Elliot and Michael Beck) Available from most video outlets.

Originally titled HOUSTON: THE LEGEND OF TEXAS, which is a much more appropriate description, this definitive television biography of Sam Houston is Sam Elliott’s finest hour. Apparently Elliott was passionate about this project and not too happy with the way it turned out. Despite its deficiencies, it’s a very good rendering of the life of Texas’ first and greatest military leader.

Houston’s eagle of destiny (see TEXAS) is used to great effect as a symbol of divine guidance. Whenever Sam Houston stands at the crossroads of a momentous decision or defining moment, the eagle soars overhead, screeching a cry of freedom. This is a compelling image that, cinematically, dates back to NAPOLEON, Abel Gance’s visionary treatment of Napoleon’s rise to greatness. It is an even more powerful metaphor when one realizes that it emulates the moment of Jesus’ baptism in the river Jordan by John the Baptist. As Jesus rose out of the water, a dove appeared above and a voice from Heaven proclaimed ‘This is my beloved Son, with Whom I am well pleased.’ Houston as Saviour of Texas? You decide.

Elliott shows us an impressive range of emotion, colour and psychological depth that he rarely gets a chance to play. He proves himself a magnificent actor within the historical frontier genre.

Houston’s life from his soured marriage while serving as the Governor of Tennessee to his time living with the Cherokee Indians is examined in detail. His complex father/son relationship with President Andrew Jackson (colourfully played by ex-lawyer G. D. Spradlin) is formative and revealing. Houston’s eventual decision to journey to Texas as an unofficial envoy of expansionist-minded President Jackson shows him to be an opportunist, capable of enormous personal ambition. Elliott’s portrayal is anything but black and white. His Houston is not a cut and dried hero. He is a very real man who becomes a hero through the choices he makes. We see him depressed, ruthless, romantic, patient, raging, drunk, troubled, brave, shrewd and vulnerable.

The key conflicts of the Texas war for independence are shown, such as the battle for San Antonio, when the Texans defeated General Cos and his two hundred Mexican soldiers, requisitioning the cannons that would later figure so prominently in the defense of the Alamo. There is a thrilling charge down a main street to secure a make-shift Mexican barricade that is reminiscent of a similar charge in John Ford’s THE HORSE SOLDIERS.

Conversely, the battle of the Alamo is not shown. This is a wise choice in this context as its inclusion would’ve threatened to overwhelm the rest of the film. This is Houston’s story and he was not present at the Alamo. Rather, the prelude to the battle and its horrible aftermath is vividly depicted, including the identification of Travis, Crockett and Bowie’s corpses. This serves to reinforce the idea of the cost of the Alamo siege and helps us to understand the great strain of responsibility it placed on Houston.

Jim Bowie is very well played by Michael Beck, despite his tendency to never change facial expression. His appearance at the wasted Alamo, dead, covered with slain Mexican soldiers, then roughly dragged out of his room to be displayed to a gloating Santa Anna, is deeply moving and allows the viewer the unique privilege of imagining the horrible carnage that occurred in this desperate battle. Alamo Village is effectively used for the Alamo and San Antonio scenes.

The battle of San Jacinto, including its prelude (the frustrations of Houston’s men, his desperate measures to control desertions, address dissension and discern the right time to turn and fight) and its aftermath, is very well presented with period weapons and attack tactics used to stirring effect.

The capture of Santa Anna is nicely done, as are the political manoeuverings that went on behind Houston’s back as he was fighting the decisive battle of the war. His enemies tried to denigrate his achievements and claim glory for themselves. Houston, badly wounded by shrapnel, is last seen weakened and exhausted as his men defy authority to ensure his medical care.

This atypical ending to a heroic story is rounded out by Charles Aidman’s narration which explains that Houston made a full recovery, became President of the Republic of Texas, saw her become part of the United States in 1842 and continued to serve his country in high office until the outbreak of the Civil War, at which point Houston refused to swear allegiance to the Confederacy three times. This footnote reveals as much about the integrity of Sam Houston as any scene in the film.

The ultimate irony to this story is that at his death in 1862, in the midst of the war between the States, Sam Houston died believing his life had been a dismal failure. However he at least died assured of his eternal life, for Sam Houston became a Christian at the prompting of an evangelist whose descendant later became a President of the United States, Lyndon B. Johnson.

GONE TO TEXAS is a balanced portrayal of a complex man, one of the key figures in Texas history. The Alamo scenes, while not extensive, offer a wider perspective to the Alamo story and make GONE TO TEXAS a necessary addition to the Alamo film canon.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

THE ALAMO: THIRTEEN DAYS TO GLORY (1987, TV, Directed by Burt Kennedy, starring James Arness, Brian Keith and Alec Baldwin) Available from most video outlets.

Oh, what might have been! This film purportedly came to be as an honest attempt to present a more historically faithful version of the Alamo story while at the same time essentially re-making John Wayne’s epic film.

Shot at Alamo Village just outside of Brackettville, Texas, the set that the Duke built for his dream project, producer Stockton Briggle brought on board Batjac veteran Burt Kennedy whose association with John Wayne (and his company, Batjac) went back to the 1950s. In fact there is, in the John Wayne museum at Alamo Village, a picture of Burt Kennedy on his birthday being presented with a picture of John Wayne directing his own Alamo film. Kennedy, was directing Wayne’s son Ethan at the time of the presentation. (Alas, Ethan has inherited none of his father’s presence, acting ability—yes, it says here Duke could ACT—nor even a suitable leading man’s baritone voice).

Beginning in the 1950s, Burt Kennedy gave us some terrific Westerns as a writer and a director, working with some of the biggest stars of the genre. THE ALAMO: THIRTEEN DAYS TO GLORY was not Kennedy’s finest hour. Was he tired? Was the project too overwhelming?

I would suggest the casting was a major stumbling block to the success of this film. James Arness as Jim Bowie (who, historically, was 39 at the time of the Alamo siege) was simply far too old for the role. His strong identification with the role of Matt Dillon (which was shortly to be perpetuated with five GUNSMOKE TV movies) also clashed with his attempt to play Bowie. He’s not a bad actor, but unless he is precisely cast, his presence overwhelms to the point that when he is miscast he stands out to the detriment of the film. (This occurred one other time, when Arness assumed the John Wayne role in the abysmal TV remake of RED RIVER).

Another aspect of Bowie in this film—why did the filmmakers perpetuate the historical inaccuracy of showing Bowie injured (and then confined to his cot) rather than struck down by sickness (either pneumonia or typhoid fever, no one seems to know for sure)? Is it more masculine and heroic to be wounded rather than to become ill? Perhaps in a dramatic context it is. But then why would Bowie be so stupid as to stand directly behind the wheel of a cannon that is inadequately mounted on a parapet? This simply didn’t make sense. At least when the choice was made to show Bowie wounded rather than ill in THE LAST COMMAND and in John Wayne’s THE ALAMO, the manner in which Bowie was injured was more realistic and did not show him making a stupid mistake.

Brian Keith was a stellar actor and may have made a good Davy Crockett fifteen years earlier, but he was simply too old in this film. Perhaps the age factor was necessary in light of Arness’ age, but Crockett was only 49 at the time of the battle, not in his middle sixties. And where was his ‘coon-skin cap? On the head of Ethan Wayne, who wore his father’s Davy Crockett hat in numerous lingering shots that seemed to be saying at every appearance ‘That’s Ethan Wayne, John Wayne’s son and he’s wearing the hat his father wore when he played Davy Crockett.’ Keith gave us some of Crockett’s colourful personality, but he too, was badly miscast, if only because of his age.

Alec Baldwin, at that time an up-and-coming actor, was closer in age to the real William Barrett Travis, who was 26 when he died at the Alamo. Baldwin is all right in the part, but seems mismatched with Arness and Keith, as if he’s doing Method acting as opposed to the ‘just tell the truth and don’t bump into the furniture’ school. His death scene is ridiculous. He looks like a pirate, slashing away with his sabre in one hand and repeatedly firing his single shot pistol in the other (without opportunity to reload!). Historically, Travis used a double-barreled shotgun and was killed early on in the final assault by the Mexicans. He was shot in the head but recovered long enough to impale a Mexican general who was about to finish him off.

Of course, opposing acting styles can work. Witness the accomplished Shakespearean Laurence Harvey as Travis opposite the American stage/radio actor turned film star Richard Widmark and all-time best screen tough guy John Wayne. Those three played off one another beautifully in John Wayne’s film. In total contrast, Baldwin, Arness and Keith seem uncomfortable together, like one of them smells.

Many of the younger roles were played by contemporary-looking actors who had no sense or feel of a period film. One exception was Tony Becker, who around that time was co-starring in TOUR OF DUTY and brought a down-home genuineness to his role as one of the Alamo defenders. The fact that he looked like Billy Barty when standing next to James Arness is irrelevant.

Oh yes, speaking of casting older actors, let’s not forget the grandfatherly Lorne Greene as Sam Houston, giving a performance that can only best be described as catatonic. Unfortunately it was Greene’s last performance. He was over seventy at the time.

Much has been said of Raul Julia’s performance as Santa Anna in this film. He was a competent, stage-trained actor and it seems that a genuine attempt was made to develop Santa Anna and show his megalomania. But I thought Julia was entirely one-note and shouted far too often, usually at David Ogden Stiers, who played the historical Colonel Black, an Englishman serving in Santa Anna’s army. Stiers too was almost entirely one note, though he can hardly be blamed since most of his scenes consisted of his being yelled at by Santa Anna while starting to say ‘But your Excellency—‘. He made no attempt at an English accent, rather sticking to his stentorian Boston Charles Winchester tones, which makes me wonder too at this odd casting choice.

The best Santa Anna I’ve seen, by the way, was the previously mentioned J. Carroll Naish in THE LAST COMMAND.

Every Alamo fan longs for a really good depiction of the battle at the end of the film. THIRTEEN DAYS chose to insert footage of the attacking Mexican army from THE LAST COMMAND. The switch in film texture, lighting, style and rhythm was jarring, (and better than THIRTEEN DAYS) with the exception of one shot of mounted Mexican cavalry following a camera mounted on a truck which left obvious tire marks well within view of the camera!

There was also a sense that the producers didn’t want to harm any of the set so that explosions were rendered timid and harmless. One can imagine Happy Shahan (owner of Alamo Village until his death a few years ago) saying ‘You can use my Alamo, but if you break it you gotta’ fix it!’

The amateurish music score really hurt this film as well, particularly in the battle scene. And lastly, how many times can a shot of the same gun carriage and cavalry be used as an establishing shot for Santa Anna’s tent (and once for Jim Bowie’s house!)? Sloppy.

I remember the excitement I felt when this film was first announced. I counted the days up to the broadcast date. When it was over I felt tremendously disappointed and let down. Sadly, upon a repeated viewing today, this version of the Alamo story remains, in my opinion, a pedestrian, under-realized jumble of good intentions.

I wanted to love this film. Instead it had the same effect on me as being let down by a dear friend. By all means include THE ALAMO: THIRTEEN DAYS TO GLORY in your Alamo viewing, but be warned!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

ALAMO: THE PRICE OF FREEDOM (1988, IMAX, Directed by Kieth Merrill, starring Casey Biggs, Merrill Connally and Steve Sandor) Unavailable. Exclusively shown at the IMAX theatre, San Antonio.

No visit to San Antonio is complete without a trip to the local IMAX theatre to see ALAMO: THE PRICE OF FREEDOM, especially created to be played exclusively (and endlessly) in the Alamo’s home town.

Many residents of San Antonio will tell you to see the IMAX film before visiting the actual Alamo a few blocks away. This is good advice. For inasmuch as the IMAX version attempts to tell the story with historical accuracy, it does provide information that is helpful to know before entering through the Alamo’s hallowed doors.

For example, one scene shows Travis removing his cat’s eye ring and threading a piece of string through it to make a necklace which he then places around the neck of Mrs. Dickinson’s baby. A visit to the real Alamo confronts you with Travis’ actual ring. The poignancy of this quiet act of humanity is immediately brought home and stirs the imagination.

The IMAX film has attention to historical detail, technical brilliance and a stunning night battle (reminiscent of GLORY—apparently some of the same people were involved) going for it. Travis’ death by a musket ball to the head early in the battle is shown, along with his last gasp before dying when he managed to kill a Mexican general who was about to slash him over the head. The extra playing the doomed attacker seemed somewhat unmotivated but the depiction was interesting because of its reported authenticity.

Crockett’s death, after flailing away effectively with the stock of Old Betsy, was convincing. An attacker’s sword stuns him and as he falls, pinned to the front wall of the mission, he is pierced by numerous bayonet thrusts.

Bowie’s death, probably one of the most gruesome of the defenders, was likewise well represented, with the director having the good taste to show Bowie being lifted off his cot by a legion of bayonets in silhouette. Some reports say that he was then tossed back and forth on the bayonets of his crazed attackers.

There is, however, a fatal flaw to this film. The acting is utterly devoid of colour and conviction. Travis is bland, Crockett is about one tenth as exuberant as he needs to be and Bowie is virtually nondescript. The film runs 48 minutes and legend has it that it originally ran some 75 minutes but bad acting slowed it down so much it was distilled down to its present length.

While hardly interminable at under an hour, the film simply does not connect with our emotions. The familiar story itself is moving, but without being drawn to the principle characters as people we are left feeling cheated of the sense of loss we experience when we watch a film and a favourite character dies.

I suspect one reason for the sense of detachment from the actors is the notable absence of close-ups. Granted that on the gargantuan IMAX screen close-ups can overwhelm the viewer, but they are at the same time necessary in a dramatic context to allow the actor to fully register with an audience. Perhaps a combination of stronger acting and a more intimate shooting style (when appropriate) would have propelled this film to classic status, even within its limited venue.

Nonetheless, I recommend that Alamo fans see this film, if possible. Just don’t expect too much. The battle satisfies, the acting does not. How much you enjoy this film depends entirely on how much value you place on your emotional connection with the story.

ALAMO: THE PRICE OF FREEDOM is an Imax experience to be enjoyed. Too bad it is not one to be cherished.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

THE BATTLE OF THE ALAMO (1992, TV, The Real West series, Directed by Craig Haffner, narrated by Kenny Rogers) Available from most video outlets.

This is the first serious documentary about the battle of the Alamo that is available on video. Part of The Real West series on A&E, THE BATTLE OF THE ALAMO is an excellent hour-long over-view of the politics surrounding the battle and the conflict itself.

Drawing upon the informed commentary of a number of Alamo scholars, professors and historians, one is treated to a feast of details and insight into the battle, including some understanding of the key players. For example, Jim Bowie was apparently so sick that it is thought he would have been lucky to get off one shot before being killed.

The format of this film follows the precedent set by the Ken Burns' Civil War series, which created a new standard for documentary style. Quick dissolves between subjects, quoted letters and documents read by actors and ominous, ghostly shots of Alamo Village standing in for the real Alamo all serve to stimulate the viewer’s imagination and bring this compelling story to life.

This is a necessary addition to any Alamo collector’s library, if only because it sets the record straight on a number of points and provides some balance to the many dramatic depictions available.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

TEXAS (1995, TV, Directed by Richard Lang, starring Patrick Duffy, Stacy Keach, David Keith and John Schneider) Available from most video outlets.

This epic television production begins well with sweeping panoramic shots of the vast and varied landscape that comprises Texas. Charlton Heston’s beautiful, velvet-like deep voice narrates throughout this fine film, most impressively setting an appropriate tone of grandeur at the start of the story.

We are introduced to Stephen F. Austin who was the first prominent advocate in the story of Texas development and independence. Patrick Duffy portrays Austin quite convincingly with only his mannerisms as a seasoned TV actor getting in the way. If he were to work with a really first-class director who insisted on him exploring his range to the fullest, I think Duffy would be capable of giving a performance like nothing we’ve ever seen him do.

However he does get bogged down by a script that ultimately makes him look rather weak and something of a loser, unable to consummate his romance with the forward Chelsea Field because of his obsessive obedience to a higher, all-consuming cause—Texas. While this should serve to show him as a sacrificing, strong man of principle, it only half succeeds in this capacity. He comes across as a man incapable of embracing all that life has to offer.

More successfully, David Keith gives a virile, rounded performance as Jim Bowie. He is utterly believable as a ruthless knife fighter, a charming rogue and a man of honour.

Stacy Keach, a superb actor who on stage has assayed some of the most demanding roles in Shakespeare, portrays Sam Houston with assurance and strength. It is unfortunate that he is bogged down by a cliché in the script, that of showing Houston cognizant of his ‘eagle of destiny’ flying over his head at key moments. This symbol of almost divine leading was originated in Abel Gance’s magnificent and ground-breaking film NAPOLEON in the 1920s, and more recently, was utilized in the Sam Elliott TV film about Houston a few years prior to TEXAS. Elliott’s portrayal was brilliant and the eagle symbolism there worked beautifully. To repeat it so soon after here seems less like an acknowledgement than a blatant repetition. Keach plays Houston convincingly, but without the heroic quality he needs for us to believe he was the first great general in Texas’ history.

Rick Schroeder is very good in a solid performance as Otto MacNab, a secondary lead. His coming of age and maturation into a tough Texas Ranger in the latter part of the story is convincing and compelling. A gratuitous shot of his naked behind as he emerges from a bath in a creek seems to presage his later ‘cheeky’ role in NYPD BLUE.

But perhaps the best performance in TEXAS is given by Benjamin Bratt as Benito Garza. His character proves the most watchable as he goes from brash young Mexican horseman from a noble family to jilted lover, to successful suitor, to conflicted soldier in Santa Anna’s army, to ruthless bandido. He is sensitive, complex and plays his part with great originality and flair.

Travis is played by Grant Show and is entirely one note—the perpetual hothead. Davy Crockett is impersonated by a totally miscast John Schneider (who is a good actor) and is entirely wasted in the few throwaway scenes the script provides. He is very distracting with his long, flowing mane of yellow hair and is much too young for the role.

Where TEXAS succeeds most is in its depiction of the political climate leading up to the war for independence. Mexico could not sufficiently populate the vast territory of Texas and offered land to immigrants with only three conditions: sworn allegiance to Mexico, conversion to Catholicism and renunciation of slavery—this being most ironic in light of the indignation shown by the American immigrants who resent the rule of a tyrant!

The rot began to set in when Santa Anna, Mexico’s elected President, turned himself into a dictator, eventually making it impossible for the citizens of Texas to live as free men and women. Austin tried everything in his power to reason with Santa Anna, despite the growing discord. The Texicans’ dissatisfaction with their chosen country’s leader and their eventual quest for liberty is presented logically, accurately and sympathetically.

Where TEXAS fails is by packing its dense multiple storylines into too narrow a canvas. The last third seems rushed and some characters remain undeveloped. Occasional insert shots on video rather than film not only jar visually, but give an impression of sloppiness, as if budget restraints suddenly made cutting corners necessary.

James A. Michener (the author of the book TEXAS) is not known for skimming over details and while TEXAS the film starts out very promisingly, telling its epic story leisurely and with a controlled pace, it deteriorates into a straight-to-video mindset as the plot wears on.

There is definitely a strange dichotomy between such artistic elements as a stirring, lushly orchestrated musical score and gratuitous moments of awkward nudity—flopping breasts as startled Mexican women run from their haciendas during a surprise raid. It’s as if they were trying to save money on costumes. Similarly, the battles are relatively bloodless but later individual killings have numerous messy, unnecessary exploding blood bags. One could surmise the film had two directors.

One of the most annoying cop-outs occurs during the battle of San Jacinto. It is mostly shot in slow motion. The effect is ponderous, meaningless and really only serves to make the battle seem boring.

Oh yes, the Alamo battle at least begins in darkness but then segues into the stock footage utilized from THE LAST COMMAND and undermines the integrity of the whole production. Coming less than ten years after THE ALAMO: THIRTEEN DAYS TO GLORY, which used the same borrowed footage, one has to ask: do producers really think we don’t notice such things?

TEXAS is hit and miss and ultimately leaves the impression that it could have been much, much better. Nonetheless its overview of Texas history is well presented and so far, unparalleled in dramatic presentation.

Jon Ted Wynne