Foxfire (1955)
By Jeremy Breneman and Eric Grigs | April 18, 2021
NEGLECTED FILM REDEMPTION
a series of conversations about forgotten and under-the-radar cinema.
Privileged socialite Amanda (Jane Russell) meets and marries half-Apache Jonathan (Jeff Chandler), hoping to find gold in the mines of Arizona while navigating the culture clashes prevalent in a small mining town.
Jeremy: My first introduction to Jane Russell was not a film but the endless commercials she made for Playtex Cross Your Heart bras in the 70s and 80s. I had no idea who she was but I thought of her anytime I went to the bra section at JCPenney as a kid.
Eric: She first came across my radar in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Most people automatically think of Marilyn Monroe’s performance of “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” but Jane’s “Ain’t There Anyone Here for Love” number, of course, stuck with me more.
Jeremy: Once again, Jane Russell knew how to exploit her own assets on her own terms. She was an interesting figure in Hollywood history—discovered barely out of her teens by Howard Hughes who signed her to his production company and had a Svengaliesque control of her early career Her first film The Outlaw in 1941 pushed the censors out of their minds. Hughes knew Russell had sex appeal and he knew sex sold. He knew it so much he ended up buying RKO Pictures and signed her as a contract player. Hughes exploited the Russell image for every dime by constant loan outs to other studios. What I love about Russell is she didn’t suffer fools. She started her own production company as a free agent and lended her talents to various studios without Hughes’ control. Foxfire was among the films in that venture.
Eric: The Hollywood studio system was a powerful piece of machinery, wasn’t it? Foxfire is notable for other technical reasons, correct?
Jeremy: I think the first, and probably one of the most important, points about Foxfire has to do with its rather obscure place in American cinema history. Without getting too scholastic, this was the last American film released in three-strip Technicolor. By the mid-1950s, this process was becoming almost obsolete because of its sheer expense and unreliability. I won’t go into that too much but let me just say, the three-strip Technicolor process is truly what makes Jane Russell’s gorgeous couture really pop. By the 50s the studios were going with newer—and some would argue cheaper—color processes. I’m so grateful this was restored from its original three-strip negative, at least for the Blu-ray release. Speaking of color, tell me your thoughts on the visuals of this film. Boy, that opening shot really prepares you for something “big”—but the film still has an intimate feeling to it.
Eric: The opening titles sure do indicate we are in for something big. Also a crooning ballad sung (and lyrics written) by leading man Jeff Chandler!
I thought the color in certain places was gorgeous, particularly as you mention in showing off the glamour of Jane Russell (she is stunning throughout), but a lot of the rest of the color process seems wasted on a drab desert mining town. Lots of sand and beige. Where is the painted desert setting? Someone call Douglas Sirk!
What I did love: the characters living in the mining town. When Jane meets two catty wives of some of the miners, I was getting ready for some Real Housewives of Arizona Cactus County, and there were glimmers of it with the meddling opinions of stuffy busybody Mrs. Mablett and a few others—but I wish there were more.
Jeremy: The town biddies were not as prominent in this, that’s for sure, but they certainly had their hand in the drama! The rather isolated and desolate remains of the town seemed to inform the lack of a large social circle.
Eric: The setting definitely becomes woven throughout as an integral part to the social commentary of the film.
Jeremy: I love how the film starts with Jane Russell getting a flat tire and suddenly confronted with her own racist attitudes. She dismisses the first group of Apache reservation-residing rescuers when they don’t pick up on her “damsel in distress” signals. I think this is our first clue of the big theme in the picture. Jane’s character Amanda, the rich socialite with a ton of entitlement, soon faces herself when along comes Jonathan Dartland (Jeff Chandler), whose chiseled good looks and hulking chest somehow lure her into instant love...not knowing he’s actually half Apache. I think this is where the film quickly turns into a social message picture. Her vocal disdain for “the Indians” is met with some big side eye. About 15 minutes later she’s professing her love after realizing she’s a bigot. I think it’s an interesting commentary for the mid-century. What do you think?
Eric: Her quick change in attitude toward Native people, the rush of marriage to someone she just met, the abrupt uprooting of her privileged life for the shabby mining town—I’m used to old movie romances having plenty of shorthand and lots of head over heels plot devices, but this one seems specifically engineered for conveying a message. Just a few scenes later when Jeff’s character “Dart” tries to explain the prejudice he faces and the limitations on his life and career place on him by society for being biracial (here labeled a “half-breed,” oy!) she swats it away with “those things don’t matter anymore.” Which would be a good thing, if true, but the whole film shows that’s not the case at all—obviously the point we are meant to see, even if conveyed painfully at times.
So I think there’s a progressive movie in here somewhere about a clash of cultures coming together, of breaking through categories of elites versus working class people and systems of racism, but it’s unfortunately (and honestly, not surprisingly) undermined throughout by the time period it belongs to. It’s particularly apparent with the use of white actors playing Native Americans. (A practice that, along with other races’ insensitive depictions, continues to plague Hollywood—even though it feels like the media landscape is finally taking representation much more seriously now.) Also it shows up by reinforcing stereotypes of Dart’s hotheadedness due to his Indigenous culture and upbringing.
However, I realize the movie is attempting to preach tolerance and acceptance—and it does have some really interesting questions to pose about assimilation of cultures against maintaining identity, and how to foster mutual respect (shown both when we learn what’s hidden in Dart’s trunk from his upbringing on the reservation and Amanda’s reaction and entitlement to know about it, as well as the detached cultural tourism of the white people who visit the reservation on bus tours).
So it feels like it’s making steps forward and backward all at the same time. I think this is what makes it a valuable movie to watch: it’s a master class of sorts on unconscious bias. The writers, producers, actors all have good intentions to make a film about overcoming the challenges of racism but at the same time produce a work that is full of racist perspectives and stereotypes that seemed normal and unchallenged at the time it was made.
Does any of that resonate with you?
Jeremy: It does. There are moments in the film where you really feel a sincere attempt at understanding. I think of the scene where Janes decides to go visit her mother-in-law (who she coincidentally never met) to try to grasp some sort of understanding of why she is so detached from Dart. What does the audience find when they get there? Dart’s mother is essentially a tour guide for the gawking tourists of the reservation. You almost feel her humiliation as she describes the customs of her culture...to people who gaze at her as some sort of sideshow oddity.
As you mentioned before, a Native actress is not cast, rather Czech veteran actress Celia Lovsky. It unintentionally poses a question: If you’re highlighting the insensitivity of one culture to another, why are you completely destroying the representation of that culture by aping it in such an obvious way? I think this is where the film struggles to find its balance for 21st century viewers. Were there no competent Native American actresses in 1955 who might have provided more authenticity here? I realize that’s a loaded question as the film’s other prominent character, the “half breed” town tramp played by Mara Corday (a Universal contract player known for the classic Tarantula!). Was there some sort of perceived “safety” here? It was a complicated question for the time.
Eric: The movie is an adaptation, right?
Jeremy: It’s based on a novel by historical novelist Anya Seton, who was lucky in the Hollywood game. Several of her novels made their way onto the screen. Most notably before this was Vincent Price and Gene Tierney’s gothic romance Dragonwyck.
Eric: I keep meaning to watch Dragonwyck, but I’m worried I’m going to feel disappointed watching a Vincent Price movie that doesn’t contain actual dragons as the title seems to advertise.
Jeremy: The “forbidden love” is a common theme in Gothic literature and film. Like previously mentioned, there may have been a “forbidden” quality to the relationship in Foxfire, but it seems quickly forgotten. Part of me wonders if the screenwriters and producers didn’t want to spend much time commenting on it. I kind of feel Universal looked at two big stars and how they could primarily exploit the smoldering chemistry. What is it about Jeff Chandler that he got away with it? Was it his chiseled good looks? His perpetually gray hair? I find him a fascinating screen presence who left us way too soon. What are your thoughts?
Eric: Oh yes, I think the case could certainly be made that this movie’s title should actually be “Silver Fox Fire!”
Jeremy: I have to say I don’t think Jeff Chandler was ever paired with anyone who didn’t spark with him. The year before Universal cast him with Joan Crawford in Female on the Beach (same director) as her playboy lover. Granted the age difference between the two was about 14 years, it worked! In this film, he’s cast along with someone closer in age and there is fire.
Eric: Of course this was more the character he’s playing here, but I wasn’t reeled in by his charm, mostly just his leading man looks. I guess I’m more drawn to the zany Rock Hudson type or suave Cary Grants in old movies. Chandler wasn’t very approachable, but that’s clearly intentional. He was obviously meant to be the stoic masculine ideal who has difficulty expressing emotions—all the more room for the leading lady to work her charms and soften a heart of stone.
Also now that you mention it, isn’t it funny that all the movies we pick to discuss seem to be six degrees of Joan Crawford? (Ok, more like one or two degrees, really!) Can we ever escape her tall shadow? (Would we want to if we could!?)
Jeremy: Joseph Pevney, the director of Foxfire, had a short acting career before turning to directing. I think he had a way with veterans like Joan Crawford, who by the 1950s had very fragile egos as they aged into an industry historically brutal to older women. Pevney also worked with the likes of Loretta Young, Ann Sheridan, Evelyn Keyes, Virginia Mayo, Fay Wray and Rhonda Fleming during their respective career twilights, at least as viable box office leads heading into B-movie status. Interestingly enough, Pevney turned to TV and directed some of our favorite shows like Bewitched all the way to Trapper John, M.D. I’m fascinated by actors who turn to directing. There’s a sense they know the frailties of the acting profession and maybe that sensitivity helped Pevney squeeze out the best performances from female actors? The next decade would not be kind to Jane Russell’s career, so it’s easy to see why she might seek out these juicy, leading parts while she could!
Eric: Speaking of keeping up as we all grow older, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention at any point in this discussion the great line that came from her mother after Jane’s whirlwind romance and fast nuptials where she meets her son-in-law on the day of the wedding. I am making a point to remember it for all future occasions (work meetings, family visits, friend obligations, you name it): “I’m still reeling, but let’s just say I’m making an effort.” Is there any better attitude toward life than that, after the year we all went through? As things change all around us, sometimes we just need to put one foot in front of the other and march forward.
Jeremy: Amen!
The gods of pop history smiled upon Jeremy Breneman and Eric Grigs when they crossed paths online, and they have been obsessing together over obscure curiosities ever since. Past entries in this discussion series have included Lucky Lady, The Killing of Sister George, and Hilda Crane.