There is perhaps no
manlier icon in Hollywood history than John Wayne. More than 40 years after his
last film, he remains the cinematic apotheosis of the rugged, principled, red-blooded,
tough-as-nails, frontier-conquering, patriotic American male. Not even Steve
McQueen or Clint Eastwood can measure up to The Duke. But was Wayne’s masculine
image a sham, and even worse, an ideal that no man could ever live up to?
The Atlantic’s Stephen Metcalf would
like you to think so. In his recent “How
John Wayne Became a Hollow Masculine Icon,”
Metcalf writes about Nancy Schoenberger’s book Wayne and Ford: The Films,
the Friendship, and the Forging of an American Hero, which explores the creative partnership of John Wayne and director
John Ford. The dynamic duo made 23 pictures together, including Stagecoach
(1939), The Searchers (1956), and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance
(1962), which Metcalf concedes are among the best and most important Hollywood
films ever made.
Schoenberger, an
English professor at William & Mary, wrote that “the two men succeeded in
defining an ideal of American masculinity that dominated for nearly half a
century.” She argues that that masculine ideal “is still salvageable, honorable
even,” writes Metcalf. “Stoic, humble, gallant, self-sufficient, loyal—put that
way, who could disagree?”
Stephen Metcalf,
that’s who. He claims that the oversensitive Ford, whom he implies was gay, “was
terrified of his own feminine side, so he foisted a longed-for masculinity” on a
supposedly reluctant Wayne, molding his hypermasculine image. Rather than be
inspired by that image, Metcalf dismisses it contemptuously: “[M]asculinity (like
the Western) is a by-product of nostalgia, a maudlin elegy for something that
never existed—or worse, a masquerade that allows no man, not even John Wayne,
to be comfortable in his own skin.”