Welcome To Thalia- The Early Work of Larry McMurtry

BOOK/DVD REVIEW

The Eyes of Texas

Hud, starring Paul Newman, Patricia Neal and Melvyn Douglas, directed by Martin Ritt, UA, 1963

The last time I have had a chance to mention the work of Larry McMurtry, whose novel this movie is adapted from, was a recent review of his The Last Picture Show trilogy (a must read, by the way) concerning the coming of age, mid-life crises and struggles with mortality of a cohort of small town Texas characters, especially one Duane Moore. As usual when I get ‘high’ on an author I like to run through most of his or her work to see where he or she is going with it. Thus, this review of a lesser work turned into an exceptional film is something of an introduction to themes that McMurtry likes to give a work out in his literary efforts. Apparently, when it comes to bring to life the Texas of the 1950’s and 1960’s either cinematically or in book form your first (and maybe last stop, although I would give Horton Foote some play) is at Mr. McMurtry’s doorstep.

Okay, so what is the big deal? Take one young, world weary, cynical handsome and well-built ne’r-do-well 1950’s cowboy Paul Newman, complete with Cadillac and cowboy hat (and an eye for the ladies, needless to say). Take one old-time rancher father of said Hud, Melvyn Douglas giving the performance of his life as a man out of step with the times as oil-rich Texas is passing him by. Take one sultry (yes, sultry in a country sort of way) substitute mother as the household cook and drudge. Add, for generational purposes, a young teenage grandson the prototype for later characters that we shall see again in other Texas scenarios by McMurtry. Put them all together with all kinds of family, personal and social tensions and a ranch crisis brought on by an epidemic of cattle hoof and mouth disease. Film it in black and white (a natural medium for 1950’s- 1960’s modern cowboy movies-think the Misfits) and place it in small town Texas with all its pride, prejudices and customs. Then take a couple of hours to see how a well-written novel and a well-thought out film can mesh as one. This is the Texas of Larry’s dreams and ours. Kudos.

Horseman, Pass By, Larry McMurtry, University of Texas Press, 1961

I will concede that I have been on something of tear concerning the works of Larry McMurtry lately. That is just the way I operate when I find that rare novelist that “speaks” to me. Gore Vidal, the great American historical novelist, is another whose works you will be seeing reviewed more in this space. That said, the particularly purpose here is to compare McMurtry’s Horseman, Pass By with Hud, the cinematic version of this novel, that starred the recently deceased Paul Newman as a misbegotten, angry modern cowboy, a very talented actor from my youth. I, frankly, like to make such comparisons to see how close the film comes to the novel.

Some films, as I recall from an article that Joan Didion wrote in the New York Review of Books concerning one of her books, move very far away from the author’s intent. That happened in her case and she had to abandon the screenwriting of the film version of one of her books in the interest of her own artistic integrity. Some cinematic presentations, even more egregiously, pay bare homage to their source. That occurred in Ernest Hemingway’s To Have and To Have Not. Here the situation is something of a happy mix between the need to highlight the 1960’s blue-eyed heart throb Newman’s role as the errand, self-centered cowboy “angel” Hud and the coming of age story of his teenage nephew Lonnie that McMurtry is trying to portray here.

Naturally, as McMurtry’s intent is to show not only the ruthless way that the modern cowboy, Hud, has to deal with the world in order to survive but the vagaries of his nephew Lonnie’s coming of age in rural West Texas in the 1950’s (in the mythical town of Thalia the scene of more than one of his efforts) the screenwriting must reflect director Martin Ritt’s concerns to keep the story moving. Thus the book, unlike the movie, concentrates not on the action of the various events in ranch (the problem with the cattle that have to be destroyed) and small town life (the booze, dances and Last Picture Show movie house) that drive the film but the sheer struggle against loneliness and meaningless that every teenager goes through but more so here. Those feelings, described so well here (and in The Last Picture Show) do not translate well onto the screen.

There are a number of other characters and events in the book that do not make it to the screen. The family relationship between Grandpa Homer Bannon and Hud is different (although the generational tensions are still present). Grandma Bannon is still alive (as Homer’s second wife and Hud’s mother) and the housekeeper is black not white like in the film. Needless to say Newman’s sexual assault of the housekeeper (played by Patricia Neal) in the early 1960’s era film subject to more taboos than today is much less graphic than in the book. But a good suggestion here is to watch the film for the performances of Newman, Neal and Melvyn Douglas (as Homer) AND read this novel. This is McMurtry’s first effort at being the “king” of Texas story tellers (New West version and Old West version, as well). The pair of efforts compliment each other. That is a rare feat.