I had never been in a battle like this one. This had not been a fight for territory or riches or to make men free. This battle had no ego. It had been fought to preserve the food stores that would see us through winter, to protect the lives of women and children and loved ones only a few feet away. I felt a pride I had never felt before.
Why it’s a left-wing film
The quote above pretty much sums up the theme found in director Kevin Costner’s epic, Academy-Award winning Western. Whether it’s the Civil War, the men of the North who fought their own countrymen to end the abomination of African slavery, or the very idea of property ownership and commerce; our protagonist, Lt. John Dunbar (Costner), finds none of that, or even the promise of his young country, worthwhile after falling in with a tribe of benevolent and harmonious Sioux Indians.
And why wouldn’t Dunbar feel this way? The Sioux literally saved his life. Over the course of three majestic hours, Dunbar goes from suicidal loner to a happily married, emotionally fulfilled individual. The Sioux took him in, made him a respected part of their community, and showed him a way of life that is spiritually, emotionally, and morally superior to the one he came from.
Or is it?
If you’re looking for something resembling a defense of what happened to the American Indian in this country, you’re going to be disappointed. Reading any evenhanded history of the settling of the American West means having your heart broken for the people who paid the price. Yes, it was a different and more brutal era, but that excuse for the appalling only goes so far.
So my argument is not so much with the side Costner takes in that matter, it’s that even without any kind of American presence in North America, the quote above and the overall theme of the film is still factually incorrect. The battle Dunbar’s reflecting on in the quote is one between his friends the Sioux and the Pawnee (who, in real life, were also victims of brutal Sioux attacks) who are portrayed as no less murderous than the Americans. And yet, we’re still told this nonsense:
This had not been a fight for territory or riches or to make men free. This battle had no ego.
Long before the evil European set foot on this continent, Indian tribes warred over “territory” (hunting lands), “riches” (food stores, slaves), and to not become slaves should they lose the battle. And this was likely true of the long historical war between the Sioux and Pawnee that was also something of a blood feud, which seems even less noble than our war “to make men free.” Furthermore, Costner’s quote contradicts itself in the next sentence when he admits this was a fight to protect “food stores.” That doesn’t qualify as riches? And to say “no ego” was involved in a famously prideful people is borderline foolish. The Indians themselves would likely argue both points. Finally, some of our noble Indian friends were just as guilty of owning slaves and butchering women and children as any racist American, because…
People are people, and always have been.
For Costner to elevate the Indian and tear down the American is as unjust and dishonest as doing the complete opposite.
If you look historically deep enough into most any culture’s history, you’ll discover how similar almost all of us are in the departments of sin and virtue. (Today, America is exceptional in this regard, so exceptional we frequently go too far in singling ourselves out for past mistakes.) But that’s not a truth Costner is interested in telling, and he doesn’t have to because today’s political correctness inoculates The New Truth from ever facing scrutiny or criticism. With any luck, someday this 1984-ish era of ours will come to an end and these prejudicial attitudes towards America will be as frowned upon as prejudicial attitudes against any members of today’s protected class.
With only a couple of exceptions, the Americans in “Dances with Wolves” are all portrayed along a very narrow and unfair spectrum that ranges from crazy to relentlessly crude to outright racist psychopath. Only Dunbar is a good American and according to Costner, good Americans turn their back on their country after coming to understand that Western Civilization, and therefore America, are inferior in every way that matters to the noble Sioux way of life.
Think how much better America and the world would be today had we all just thrown off our clothes and joined the commune. The Nazis would certainly be happier.
While I disagree with the unfair perception today that Westerns produced during Hollywood’s Golden Age were mercilessly racist against Indians ( A-Westerns, especially, were much more nuanced than liberal critics want to give them credit for), “Dances with Wolves” is mercilessly — dare I say — prejudiced against Americans. In an otherwise perfect film, this grotesquely one-dimensional and stereotypical portrayal not only undermines the third act dramatically, it also simplifies and unfairly distorts what was a very complicated time in our history.
That, however, doesn’t change the fact that the film’s final words are tragically true. 13 years after the year in which the film is set, the last of the free Sioux were forced into a humiliating surrender and the several thousand year era of the Plains Indian ended forever. Nor does it change the fact that Costner’s masterpiece is not only one of the greatest Westerns ever made, but also one of the greatest films of all time.
Why it’s a great film
To be clear, I’m talking about the original 181-minute cut. Not the greatly inferior director’s cut.
Without fail, no matter how long it’s been between screenings, when “Dances with Wolves” ends — when the final fade comes, the credits roll, and the score rises — I can’t shut the film off until the credits come to a complete end and there simply is no more movie left to play. I just can’t let go of the story and the world and the people. And more often than not, I’m still trying to put myself back together after this:
“Dances With Wolves. I am Wind In His Hair. Do you see that I am your friend? Can you see that you will always be my friend?!”
In one of the most stunning directorial debuts in the history of the motion picture, the most important decision Costner made was making his Sioux characters human. 100% human. With the best of intentions, too many Westerns portray Indians as one-dimensional pillars of virtue or inaccessibly precious. Costner, thankfully, avoids all of these traps and others I’ve likely forgotten. Like I said above, people are people. The Sioux may look and dress and live and worship a little different than what we’re used to, but when it comes to the fundamentals of our shared humanity, Costner celebrates all that we have in common, not the differences that always evaporate once you get to know someone. By the time his story ends, Stands With a Fist, Ten Bears, Kicking Bird and Wind In His Hair, are as real and relatable as Dunbar himself. Maybe even more so.
Even better, Dunbar is not the patronizing white, liberal hero who saves the day and populates way too many of these PC revisionist films. Dunbar doesn’t save the Sioux, they save him.
And if this first-time director understood one thing, it’s that if you’re going to make a sweeping epic successful, the most important element to focus on is the characters and their relationships. The love story between Dunbar and Stands With a Fist, the friendships Dunbar develops with the Sioux, and Dunbar’s own character arc are perfectly calibrated and warmly and unforgettably acted with a winning sense of humor throughout. . There’s not a moment that doesn’t ring true and all you want is to see the whole bunch of them live happily ever after together.
I become so invested in these characters that even though I know how it all ends, every time Dunbar leaves the safety of his new family to return to his old life one last time in order to retrieve the journal, I still hope against hope that some form of movie magic will convince him not to go. And while the villainous America soldiers he runs into are portrayed ridiculously as over-the-top racists and brutes, by that time none of that matters. I want to kill them all myself and always cheer when the Sioux arrive and do just that. Sometimes I cheer out loud.
Great movies manipulate and this one owns me and has since the first time I saw it. John Barry’s score is one of the most perfectly beautiful, majestic, and heartrending pieces of film music ever composed, and the scope, framing and sumptuous look of every shot is absolutely perfect. This is a true epic, worthy of the word in every respect, and Costner’s Oscar-winning direction can stand beside the best of David Lean. And Costner did it all on a low-budget, with Hollywood eager to cheer his failure, and without the crutch of CGI.
Today, it’s become fashionable to ridicule “Dances with Wolves” and Costner. People on the right complain that the film is too PC, the left hates its old-fashioned earnestness, and most everyone resents “Goodfellas” losing Best Picture and Scorsese losing Best Director (to Costner). I’m second-to-none in my admiration for “Goodfellas,” but the right film and the right director took home the Oscar that year. When you talk about the great cinematic moments of 1990, not even a long tracking shot following a gangster through the kitchen of a nightclub can come close to that breathtaking moment when the camera cranes up from behind a hill and the buffalo hunt begins.
Countdown thus far.
COMMENTS
Please let us know if you're having issues with commenting.