If you can forgive the obvious--the white actors playing natives and the "Me want cookies" delivery of lines by the Indians--you've got a movie so good that you may find yourself doing what I did as Robert Wagner (about as handsome a young man as a gal could ever hope for) tries to control his emotions as he tries to care for the lifeless body of Jeffrey Hunter. It's as loving a moment in a western as you may ever see, and as tragic--nearly as painful to watch as John Wayne getting the door closed on him at the end of The Searchers. I watched this scene and let out an audible "awwww." My daughter heard me and thought I was talking to myself.Wagner, who starts the movie as a lightweight actor in over his head, gains stature in a quiet and unobtrusive manner. You grow to like him, not through heroics but from calm intelligence. Wagner underplays his Josh Tanner; you respect his grit and compassion, even as you wonder how a guy could be that boyish. I was just looking for a good, old-fashioned western when I taped White Feather off Fox Movies a few months ago. What I got was a heart- felt, eye-brimmingly sad, and astonishingly beautiful (to look at) film about the last days of the Plains Indians as a group of free peoples. Made in 1954, White Feather was clearly designed to compete with the mind-suck of television by offering a very wide screen image. Director Robert Webb and his cinematographer take time to make you suck in air from the exotic Durango, Mexico locations (standing in for Wyoming). As the many nations head toward their shared misery of their reservation ghettos, they pass by the viewer, so close you can see the agonized stoicism of the womens' faces. The wide angle captures the bigness of the diaspora in reverse. The cinematography adds to the near-epic story by making us witness a tragedy writ large. White Feather is sparingly violent, literate, and superbly acted film, and I strongly recommend it to anyone who wants something more than a Saturday Matinée shootemup.

This is one of a number of 1950s Westerns which attempted to redress the balance by painting a fairly sympathetic view of the American Indian; even so, to spice up proceedings, we get a couple of rebels (second lead Jeffrey Hunter among them) opposing the impending peace treaty offered by the white man. Incidentally, though inspired by a factual incident, the film's plot line basically mingles elements from two contemporary examples of the genre – BROKEN ARROW (1950; whose director, Delmer Daves, contributed to the script of this one) and ARROWHEAD (1953). With this in mind, the film doesn't really bring anything new to the table – but, made with consummate Hollywood professionalism, the result is undeniably entertaining nonetheless.Casting is adequate, too: apart from the afore-mentioned Hunter (though not exactly convincing as a redskin), we get Robert Wagner as an all-too-young Government agent hero who mediates between the two parties, Debra Paget (in a virtual reprise of her BROKEN ARROW role and who eventually defies her people by eloping with Wagner), John Lund as the experienced Cavalry officer in charge, Eduard Franz as Hunter's dignified chieftain father, Hugh O'Brian (as with Peter Graves in the same director's BENEATH THE 12-MILE REEF [1953], a viewing of which preceded this one, he's the heroine's brash but unloved intended), Virginia Leith as a more mature secondary love interest for Wagner, and Emile Meyer as her racist storekeeper father. By the way, I've just taped the first cinematic adaptation of Ira Levin's thrller A KISS BEFORE DYING (1956) off Cable TV – which I noticed shares a remarkable number of cast and crew members with the title under review (not least its hunky stars)! Being a largely outdoor film and in order to supply the appropriate grandeur, Lucien Ballard's widescreen photography is rather frustratingly limited to long or medium shots – which, when screened on a normal-sized TV set, unfortunately leads to a certain detachment on the viewer's part; by the way, in the accompanying poster gallery on the DVD, the fact that patrons would be watching a "Cinemascope" production was deemed a bigger draw than even the stars involved! The film culminates with an unusual sort of showdown as Hunter and O'Brian face an entire cavalry unit (apparently an Indian battle custom which explains the film's title) – however, the duo's come-uppance sees the personal intervention of Franz, who's not pleased with their 'brave' gesture; this is then followed by a lengthy (and, I'd even say, unwarranted) scene in which Wagner meticulously prepares Hunter for burial.The Fox DVD includes quite a nice assortment of extras: these include a reproduction of the original pressbook (filled with amusingly irrelevant ballyhoo), a reasonably comprehensive photo gallery, and a number of trailers for the studio's other catalog entries in the genre (among them the desirable Victor Mature vehicle FURY AT FURNACE CREEK [1948] – surprisingly narrated and carrying the personal endorsement of none other than Gregory Peck! – and latterday black-and-white potboiler CONVICT STAGE [1965], which I'd never heard of myself and can't fathom why it was even deemed worthy of a DVD release).

This is a truly epic Western - epic in the moral sense: It operates as a great ceremony, a funeral ode for a great people, and the Homeric nobility of their doomed warrior heroes. The whole film sweeps majestically along with the native Americans to the bitter end of their doomed civilisation, and all the distracting side-plots are merely adumbrated at the margins of the action. The U.S. Cavalry, too, is given its due meed of admiration for the honest professionalism of its best soldiers, and the finest representatives of its military tradition. In this, Webb's film is reminiscent of a John Ford Cavalry Western. But it has something else: The awareness of a 'great game' - almost in the sense this term was applied by the English to their Imperial adventure – being played out with mutual honour and respect, even admiration and fondness, between the great rivals for possession of an entire Continent.This is a truly great film, unblemished by the jittery special pleading of Hollywood that bespeaks the unacknowledged guilt of the American White Man. This is a sincere film - not a film of gestures: It is, as I began by saying, a grand Ceremony. And in the Ceremony is the aching sense of the loss of a Great Game which conferred greatness upon all who were brave enough to participate on equal terms.

From the era of wide screen CinemaScope comes this fine western about dealing with the Cheyenne Indians in Wyoming in 1870.The film benefits from having a good script that keeps things tense, good acting, and excellent cinematography (which was far superior 50 years ago compared to today's movies).There's no sense retelling the plot, but female viewers ought to love Robert Wagner in this role, as well as Jeffrey Hunter (showing lots of tan skin) in his Indian makeup. Speaking of skin, the lovely and usually clothed neck to toe Debra Paget gets to show some neck, shoulders and back -- however briefly.But the main thing is the tense story. Without much gunfire the film provides almost no opportunity for a snack bar break. Please take the other low ratings with a grain of salt. Liberals and their intrusive and annoying PC mantra will no doubt be annoyed by the frequent use of the word "Indian" as well as having whites cast as Indians. Oh the shame! This despite the positive view of Indians reflected in the film; herein they even have a healthy sense of humor. Humor, that's just not liberal. At least nobody smokes a cigarette.