Cimarron is a true Edna Ferber epic, no question. It has all the characteristics of her best-known, classic novels. Ferber also wrote Giant and Show Boat, and in all three cases, her stories follow a family’s romantic, social, and often political development over several decades. They have strong female characters at the core, and each saga presents racial injustice as a major theme and motivator. In Show Boat, it’s the relationship and treatment of African Americans by Whites. In Giant, it’s Mexican Americans and Whites, and in Cimarron, it’s Native Americans and Whites. All three deal with interracial romances and mixed races as well.
Cimarron is headlined by Richard Dix, himself a silent-era cowboy star who successfully transitioned to Talkies but also kept most of his outdated acting habits intact, at least judging from this film. Dix was honored with an Oscar nomination for Best Actor, and at first I was scratching my head as to why and how it happened. But as the film went on, I realized he is well suited for his role. Yancey Cravat (no, I’m not making up that name) is a larger-than-life, boot-stomping, square-jawed, cowboy hero of his day—but his “day” is quickly passing him by.
As the years pile on, he and his young bride Sabra (Irene Dunne) drift apart in outlook, opinion, and sentiment. Yancey is a real throwback to another often glamorized, folkloric era, just as Dix is a throwback to the silent-movie Western star. I must confess, by the end of the film, I couldn’t picture anyone else in the role—at least not as effectively. Watching him over-emote with his heavy eyeliner, stilted speaking voice, and grand, silent-movie gestures, he seems just as out-of-place in the budding era of sound as Yancey does watching his new frontier and old ideals fade into the sunset. It doesn’t help that he’s playing opposite newcomer Irene Dunne, fresh from her role as Magnolia in the national tour of the smash Broadway musical Show Boat. By contrast, Dunne is very much at ease in sound films, giving the first of her five career-spanning, Oscar-nominated performances for Best Actress.
One of the ironies of this 1931 film is that we watch Yancey and Sabra’s son fall in love and marry outside of his own race. While presenting a narrative plea for equality, or at least mutual respect as far as the White Man’s relationship with indigenous Americans goes, we also get a cringe-worthy, stereotypical Black boy (yes, a cartoonish “pickaninny”) for comic relief. Eugene Jackson, former member of the silent Our Gang comedy shorts known as Pineapple, plays Isaiah. I suppose the only saving grace here is that he dies early on, and we are meant to feel sorrow for his sacrifice or perhaps pity for his loyalty to the family. The laughter at his expense stops. The clown is dead. Regardless, over 80 years later, it comes off as clumsy and hypocritical and a definite mixed message as far as the plot’s moral compass goes. This film is clearly a product of its time, which reminds me all too well of the complexity of equality and the ongoing struggle (to this day) to achieve it and even depict it in a pure sense.
Still, the real star here is the story, and it’s a strong, often imitated one. It might even be compared to other classics like A Star Is Born, where an established leading male character meets his romantic “diamond in the rough,” and as the plot progresses, they switch places. The demure but ambitious female is on the rise, coming into her own success and independent voice, while the male “hero” struggles and loses ground, searching for his old ways and former glories. It makes for compelling drama, and long after the film ends, I’m pondering the characters and their complex motivations. Cimarron is a worthy Best Picture choice, for that reason alone. I’m not surprised it received near-universal critical praise when it was released.
A bevy of supporting performances help make this film memorable, starting off with one of my all-time favorites, Edna May Oliver, as Mrs. Wyatt. Just like Irene Dunne, Oliver has prior Show Boat and Edna Ferber connections, having created the role of Parthy in the original Broadway production. Estelle Taylor, George E. Stone, William Collier, Jr., and Stanley Fields add greatly whenever they are on screen and deserve mention as well.
Cimarron
Director | Wesley Ruggles |
Primary Cast | Richard Dix, Irene Dunne, Edna May Oliver, Estelle Taylor, George E. Stone, William Collier, Jr., Stanley Fields, Eugene Jackson |
Familiar Faces | none (no repeat performers from the previous winning films) |
Firsts | First Western to win Best Picture, first of only two movies in history to receive a nomination in every eligible category |
Total Wins | 3 (Picture, Writing: Adaptation, Art Direction) |
Total Nominations | 7 (Picture, Director, Actor: Richard Dix, Actress: Irene Dunne, Writing: Adaptation, Art Direction, Cinematography) |
Viewing Format | DVD |