High Noon did not became a classic Western flick because it exemplifies the conventions of Western movies. Indeed, the constant action, horse chases, stage coach heists, bar room brawls and expansive scenery expected in a Western film are conspicuously absent from the tightly reigned action in this movie. The suspense, however, is all the greater for building below the surface.
The opening scenes beautifully introduce the tone of the entire film. We see three men meet up in the country side. Initially, it is reasonable assumption that these are the “good guys.” (This is a Western, after all, and though it breaks other conventions, there are still “good guys” and “bad guys.”) As this extended sequence progresses, without one line of dialog, we notice various elements of their characters which call into question what side these men are on. Their clothes are torn and dirty, they are not groomed well, and their manners are somewhat coarse. By the time we see them riding together, it is clear they have some definite purpose, and we suspect that it is a sinister one.
Throughout this scene, a lyrical ballad is played in the background. While the words of the ballad summarize the plot of the film (1), the driving percussion under the gentle melody line perfectly introduces and reinforces the suppressed tension below the surface of the film. As the movie progresses, and the tension builds, this percussion becomes more and more pronounced.
The story line is very simple: Marshal Kane arrested Frank Miller some years ago for murder. Miller was convicted and sentenced to life in prison, but has been released on parole. At the time of his conviction, Miller swore to return and get revenge on Kane. Miller is returning and the three characters seen at the beginning of the film are his possey.
Miller is coming on the noon train. Kane has roughly two hours to round up a group of decent men who will defend their town against the outlaw that once terrorized them (during a time when “a decent woman couldn’t walk down the street.”) During this lengthy second act, numerous visual motifs accentuate the drama.
The first of these motifs is a clock, obviously symbolizing time. As the movie progresses and Kane’s time is running out, clocks become more and more prominent in various scenes, until they finally take up entire scenes themselves. Sometimes, dramatic shots of a pendulum swings towards and away from the camera fill the screen.
The second is a still shot of the railroad tracks down which the noon train will be coming. It is a simple shot, but devastatingly effective. We see the rails merge in the distance and know that from that inscrutable horizon, a menace will soon approach. The stillness of the shot acts like a calm before a storm. It is not a peaceful stillness, but one full of tension, like a tightly wound string waiting to be plucked – or snapped – by the arrival of the train.
In contrast to the still shot of the tracks, the third motif is Marshal Kane pacing the streets of the town. He is always alone, and as noon draws near, he looks more and more desperate.
A fourth image that isn’t quite as pervasive as the other three but is still quite apparent is the witness chair from the courtroom. It is the very chair in which Frank Miller sat as he swore revenge on Marshal Kane. The repetition of a still shot of the chair serves both as a reminder of the threat faced by Kane, and also with its association of Miller’s oath, it adds to the sense of inevitability or fate.
As noon arrives, all of these motifs converge. The hands of the clock unite at 12, the train appears at the horizon on the tracks, and Kane is seen still alone in the town. Now the train is moving and it is Kane who is still, waiting for the inevitable confrontation. As the sound of the train whistle reverberates through the town, we see flashes, one by one, of all the people who Kane has asked for help. They are at home, in the bar, in church, in the hotel, everywhere and anywhere but with Kane.
As we see each of these characters, we are almost invited to ask ourselves which character we would be. The jealous, ambitious deputy who tries to blackmail Kane? The politician who urges Kane to flee, and thus lead Miller away from the town rather than fight him? The preacher who refuses to take a side, one way or the other? The woman who urges the men to fight? The woman who urges them not to? The man who initially agrees, but backs away when he learns that there is no one else? Or would we be in Kane’s shoes?
This scene drives home the sense that the entire film plays out like a parable. It presents a crisis in stark simplicity. That the film is shot in black and white reinforces its simple morality. Having laid out the situation, it then examines and personifies all the various ways that we might back away and avoid the challenge. So on the one hand, it is a classic movie about a man driven by honor and duty. On the other, it is an uncomfortable examination of just how rare those virtues are.
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1 The lyrics of the ballad are below. For a very interesting essay on this ballad, see http://www.sensesofcinema.com/contents/03/28/ballad_of_high_noon.html
Do not forsake me O my darlin’
On this our wedding day.
Do not forsake me O my darlin’
Wait, wait along.
The noonday train will bring Frank Miller.
If I’m a man I must be brave
And I must face that deadly killer
Or lie a coward, a craven coward,
Or lie a coward in my grave.
O to be torn ‘twixt love and duty!
S’posin’ I lose my fair-haired beauty!
Look at that big hand move along
Nearin’ high noon.
He made a vow while in State’s Prison,
Vow’d it would be my life or his and
I’m not afraid of death, but O,
What will I do if you leave me?
Do not forsake me O my darlin’
You made that promise when we wed.
Do not forsake me O my darlin’
Although you’re grievin’, I can’t be leavin’
Until I shoot Frank Miller dead.
Wait along, wait along
Wait along
Wait along