The Horse's Head

The Plot: Filmed in the border town of Corpus Christi, Texas, the Fuentes family home movies are…well, home movies. As portable cameras were starting to become more accessible, Antonio and Josefina Fuentes spent the 1920s and 1930s documenting various holidays and trips, almost all of them with their adorable kids running around being cute. At face value these home movies are no different than many other families of the time, but historically they showcase a Mexican-American community forming and growing on the border of the Lone Star state.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls this collection “a priceless snapshot of time and place” that are “among the earliest visual records of the Mexican-American community in Texas”.

But Does It Really?: I was definitely on the fence about this one. We have plenty of home movies on this list already (heck, there’s another home movie filmed in Texas on the list), do we need another one? But as usual, my research led me to the Center for Home Movies, which features an essay by TAMI founder Dr. Caroline Frick that makes a compelling argument for this collection’s inclusion. As with so many movies on this list, the Fuentes family home movies are on the NFR not for what they are, but what they represent: in this case a documentation of a Mexican-American community in a Texas border town in its early stages, presented in a positive light, free from the harmful stereotypes of mainstream media. A very slight pass for “Fuentes Family” on the NFR, but I think I’ll take a break from home movies for a while. 

Everybody Gets One: Once again, my thanks to the Frick essay which has the most thorough information about the Fuentes family I could find online. Born in Montemorelos, Nuevo León, Antonio Fuentes moved to Texas some time in the early 1900s, settling in Corpus Christi in the 1910s. While working as the town’s Mexican consulate, Antonio met Josefina Barrera, and the two married in 1918. They had five children: Ruben, Ophelia, Mercedes, Antonio Jr., and Carmen, all of whom show up in the home movies. At some point in the late 1920s, Antonio purchased a Pathe Baby 9.5mm camera, one of the first portable and affordable movie cameras, and started filming his family.

Why It Matters: The NFR praises the film’s “powerful, emotional story”, calling it “as relevant today as it was on its 1977 release, a testament to its enduring humanity.” There’s also a detailed essay by film professor Charles Ramírez Berg (actually it’s his essay from the film’s 2012 Criterion release, reprinted with permission).

But Does It Really?: One of my first notes reads “I’m hooked”. From the very beginning, “¡Alambrista!” grabbed me and never let go. This is the kind of movie I’m looking for in the NFR; the lesser-known pieces of art crafted by pure passion and a unique perspective. The best movies are eye-openers, and forgive me and my privileged White bubble, but “¡Alambrista!” opened my eyes to an illegal immigrant’s perspective that didn’t evoke fake sympathy or stand on a soapbox: it just said, “This is what it’s really like, and how you feel about it is up to you.” I’m delighted that “¡Alambrista!” is on the NFR and available for viewing (go Criterion Channel!), and I can’t recommend it enough.

Everybody Gets One: Not his only NFR appearance, but let’s highlight Robert M. Young for a minute. After studying chemical engineering at MIT and English literature at Harvard, Young turned his filmmaking hobby into a career, working on educational shorts in the ’50s and various pieces for the news show “NBC White Paper” in the ’60s. In 1973, Young directed the documentary short “Children of the Fields” about a family of migrant workers, and his experience (and subsequent research on illegal immigrants) inspired him to write “¡Alambrista!”. Young’s other NFR work includes as writer and cinematographer of the Civil Rights era drama “Nothing But a Man“, and as one of the writers of the IMAX movie “To Fly!“.

Wow, That’s Dated: Not a hell of a lot, sadly. Outside of the occasional payphone or aggressive sideburns, there’s very little in this movie to remind you it’s the ’70s and not the present.

Title Track: A few things about this title. 1) The on-screen translation is “The Illegal”, though Young’s original translation was “The Fence-Jumper”. 2) The film ends with a title song that gives a very detailed recap of the entire movie (specific characters and events are mentioned in the lyrics). And 3) This is the only movie on the list with an inverted exclamation mark, which I was excited to learn how to type on my keyboard. Turns out this old dog can still learn some new tricks.

Seriously, Oscars: No theatrical run for “¡Alambrista!”, and therefore no Oscars. The film did, however, pick up a few festival prizes, including the Cannes’ inaugural Caméra d’Or award for best first feature.

• One of Joe’s observations about Americans is “The gringos, they always cross their legs.” As God is my witness, I was sitting with my legs crossed at the exact moment he said that. What can I say, Joe’s got my number.
• And then Joe mentions that he and Roberto are traveling to Stockton for work, and my jaw practically hit the floor. This is the second movie on the 2023 list that is partially set in my hometown of Stockton, California, although I can’t find anything to confirm that “¡Alambrista!” actually filmed in Stockton. I am once again pleasantly surprised that another movie on this list has a Stockton connection.
• Among the many lessons NFR movies have taught me over the years: Never, ever, ever hitchhike. Only bad things will happen if you are hitchhiking or pick up a hitchhiker while driving (That being said, this movie and “It Happened One Night” are the exceptions that prove the rule).
• That is Edward James Olmos in an early film role as one of the drunks yelling at the immigrants lining up for migrant work. This is Olmos’ sixth film on the Registry, and his third entry in three consecutive years. I assume this is all part of an initiative to get every Edward James Olmos movie on the Registry. Side note: The other drunk in the scene is Julius Harris, who I remember as Ivan Dixon’s alcoholic father in “Nothing But a Man”.

• I like the scenes between Roberto and Sharon, in which they are both trying to connect despite the major language barrier between them, and eventually succeeding (at least on a physical level). I assume Sharon trying to teach Roberto how to say “apple pie” is a metaphor for American assimilation or something like that.
• Oh my god, this guy at the diner won’t stop talking! I think it’s meant to be comic relief, but really I just need this guy to shut up. Also, that actor is Jerry Hardin, longtime character actor and father of Melora Hardin, aka Jan from “The Office”.

• The scene where Sharon tries to help Roberto wire money to his wife is just great. It’s the scene where Sharon finally learns that Roberto is married, and both actors play it perfectly: Sharon concealing her pain in public, Roberto either coldly aware or blissfully unaware (Ambriz plays it a bit cryptically).
• Ah norteña music, we meet again.
• Oh right, Ned Beatty’s in this, appearing briefly in two scenes I imagine he knocked out in one day of shooting. I suspect Beatty’s work here was part of his “Never turn down work” mantra, hence why he shows up in every ’70s movie. Fun Fact: At the time “¡Alambrista!” was released, Beatty had just received an Oscar nomination for his supporting turn in “Network“, no doubt adding a bit of prestige to this film.
• [Spoilers] The last chunk of the movie throws a lot of curveballs at the last minute. First, we get the stuff with Roberto’s dad, a subplot I genuinely forgot about. Then Roberto finally snaps in the only bit of capital A acting that Domingo Ambriz is required to do. But most memorably for me, the final scene is Roberto witnessing a pregnant woman going into labor at the US/Mexico border, happy that her newborn is healthy and – more importantly – born in America. My analysis on the final scene: the American dream of an immigrant making a new life in this country is long gone. Only those born here have a chance to thrive. I admit it’s a downer interpretation, but then again, we live in real downer times. At least we have this peppy end credits music to play us out.

• Apart from Ned Beatty and Edward James Olmos, most of this cast never got another role as substantial as their work in “¡Alambrista!”, appearing in bit parts in movies and episodic television over the next few decades. Coincidentally, both Domingo Ambriz and Trinidad Silva appear in Steve Martin’s “The Jerk” in 1979, though I don’t recall them having any scenes together.

• Robert Young would continue directing for the next 35 years, bouncing back and forth between narrative films and documentaries. He even directed five episodes of “Battlestar Galactica” starring his frequent collaborator Edward James Olmos. We’ll meet up with Young (and Olmos) again when I cover “The Ballad of Gregorio Cortez“. Sadly, Young died just a few days before my viewing of “¡Alambrista!” at the age of 99.

• And finally, I’d be remiss not to mention that “Alambrista” was one of the 27 movies Representative Joaquin Castro submitted for NFR consideration in 2023, and the only one to make the list that December. Now if only I can convince him to lobby for “Original Cast Album: Company” or “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World”. They are not made by or about Latinos, but it couldn’t hurt to try and get these movies the Castro Bump.

The Plot: Jubilo (Will Rogers) is a hobo aimlessly wandering Oklahoma with an endless array of homespun witticisms. After witnessing a train robbery and not wanting to be noticed by either the robbers or the local sheriff, Jubilo lays low at the farm of Judge Jim Hardy and his daughter Rose (Charles K. French and Josie Sedgwick). Despite his aversion to actual labor, Jubilo agrees to work as a farmhand in exchange for food and shelter. While in town, Jubilo encounters Bert Rooker (Jim Mason), who he recognizes as the leader of the train robbers. When he learns of Bert’s plan to frame Judge Hardy for the robbery, Jubilo must learn to be unselfish and help his fellow man, as well as his fellow man’s cute daughter that he’s taken a liking to.

Why It Matters: The NFR really felt the need the justify this film’s inclusion, giving us a lengthy paragraph about Rogers’ stage and screen career, as well as the popularity of his films with critics, audiences, and even Erich von Stroheim! The NFR also highlights Rogers’ standing as “a multiracial member of the Cherokee nation” (both of his parents were of Cherokee descent), because for modern NFR picks, diversity is the name of the game (not a criticism, just an observation).

But Does It Really?: When I covered “State Fair” I questioned its NFR standing as representation of Will Rogers and vowed that “the second another one of his movies makes the list [‘State Fair’ is] getting a reevaluation.” Well here we are, five years after making that claim and 2 ½ years after “Jubilo” made the list (I’ve been busy, okay?). “Jubilo” is the star-vehicle for Will Rogers that “State Fair” isn’t, but I’m still not convinced it’s the right choice for this list. “Jubilo” is not Rogers’ most iconic film, being virtually forgotten until its NFR induction. On top of that, reading Rogers’ trademark one-liners via intertitles isn’t the same as getting to hear him deliver them as he did on stage, radio, or his later sound films (though to be fair, most of his audience in 1919 would have known him primarily from his various print columns). Still, “Jubilo” is a well-made movie and holds up reasonably well a century later. Maybe if “Jubilo” and “State Fair” held a joint spot in the NFR I’d be satisfied.

Wow, That’s Dated: The NFR’s extended write-up on the movie explains its most topical joke: When Hardy’s car breaks down, Jubilo quips, “No wonder he didn’t get into the Senate, with everyone owning one of these.” My instinct was correct: Jubilo is referring to Henry Ford, the automobile titan who unsuccessfully ran to represent Michigan in the U.S. Senate in November 1918.

Title Track: Worst. Title Song. Ever. Jubilo gets his name from the Civil War-era song “Kingdom Coming”, in which slaves celebrate their upcoming freedom as a day of jubilee (or “jubilo” in the song’s super-racist approximation of a Black dialect). If you want an idea of just how bad these lyrics are, the refrain is printed in the film’s poster at the top of this post. And trust me, it gets worse.

• Among the many other film adaptations of Ben Ames Williams’ work is another future NFR inductee: the 1945 noir classic “Leave Her to Heaven”.

• Clarence G. Badger would go on to direct two more NFR movies: “Hands Up!” with Raymond Griffith and “It” with Clara Bow. Badger and Rogers would work together on 12 more films over the next three years, with such amusing titles as “The Ropin’ Fool”, “Jes’ Call Me Jim”, and “Cupid the Cowpuncher”.
• But of course, this film’s main legacy is the beginning of Will Rogers’ brief but successful film career, abruptly ending with his tragic death in 1935. Among Rogers’ other movies are the aforementioned “State Fair”, as well as “A Connecticut Yankee”, which I still think would work better as his NFR pick.

Bonus Clip: I have somehow gone two Will Rogers posts without mentioning “The Will Rogers Follies”, which played Broadway in the early ’90s and waved the flag for American musicals amid the dominance of Britain’s mega-musical imports. Here’s the always great Keith Carradine as Rogers, a role he has reprised from time to time.

The Plot: At a small diner outside Reno, Nevada, Al Roberts (Tom Neal) sits despondently and narrates to us how he got there. We flashback to his life as a piano player in a New York nightclub with his girlfriend, the club’s lead singer Sue Harvey (Claudia Drake). When Sue breaks up with Al and moves to Hollywood, Al becomes depressed, but ultimately decides to head out West to reconcile. While hitchhiking across the country, Al is picked up by Charles Haskell Jr. (Edmund MacDonald), a bookie en route to LA with a briefcase full of cash. While serving as Haskell’s relief driver, Al discovers that Haskell has died of an apparent heart attack. Realizing that the police will assume he killed Haskell for his money, and determined to get to Sue in Hollywood, Al hides the body and keeps driving, but a mysterious hitchhiker named Vera (Ann Savage) complicates matters. “Detour” is prime film noir and a gem from one of Hollywood’s lesser-known Poverty Row studios.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls it “one of the most stylish B pictures ever produced”, praising the “bleak nightmare existence” Ulmer was able to create under budget constraints. An essay by film critic J. Hoberman is mostly a biography of Ulmer, though he amusingly compares the film’s art through adversity style to “a Rembrandt drawing wrapped around a wad of bubble gum”.

But Does It Really?: I figured out pretty early on why “Detour” got selected for the NFR. At a time when the NFR only had 100 movies on it, “Detour” is an excellent representation of the ’40s B movie. “Detour” feels like someone put every ’40s film noir in a blender, and the results are occasionally uneven, but always watchable. With great lead performances by Neal and Savage, and the artistic eye of Edgar Ulmer behind the camera, “Detour” stands out as one of the best of the Bs. I’m glad “Detour” made the NFR so early, and continues to get discovered by new generations of film lovers.

Everybody Gets One: Born in what was then Austria-Hungary, Edgar G. Ulmer started his film career as an art director, heading to Hollywood to help his mentor F.W. Murnau with “Sunrise“. His directing career got off to a promising start with the horror film “The Black Cat”, Universal’s biggest hit of 1934. Unfortunately, Ulmer’s affair with his script supervisor Shirley Beatrice Kassler (who was married at the time to the nephew of Universal head Carl Laemmle) got him blacklisted from working with the major studios. Ulmer eventually found work with Producers Releasing Corporation (PRC), one of the “Poverty Row” movie studios that cranked out cheap B pictures. Ulmer’s penchant for economically made yet artistically stimulating films earned him the moniker “The King of PRC”. Fun Fact: The G stands for Georg.

Wow, That’s Dated: This is one of many movies that would play very differently if smart phones and the internet existed. If nothing else, Al could contact Sue directly and find out how she’s doing, or just stalk her on social media. And almost everything in the film’s second half would fall apart if everyone was under modern surveillance. That all being said, there is something almost romantic about living life “off the grid”. There’s an anonymity we’ve lost in recent years that this movie reminds us of. But enough of my Andy Rooney rant, back to the movie…

Seriously, Oscars?: Unsurprising for a B movie, “Detour” received no Oscar love. In fact, as best I can tell the only film made by Producers Releasing Corporation in their seven year existence that got any Oscar nominations was 1944’s “Minstrel Man”, a sleeper hit with an unfortunate title.

• You can sense the film’s budget constraints pretty clearly. The nightclub Al and Sue perform at has maybe five people in the audience, and the street they walk on afterwards is the foggiest street in movie history.
• Tom Neal has one hell of a face. Sometimes he looks like Charlton Heston, other times Brian Williams. I gotta say though, he looks great staring off into nothing and sulking in his bleak existence.
• Also dated: The lost profession of switchboard operator. No early Hollywood movie is complete without a row of women moving phone plugs around and connecting people to their parties.
• I think the working title for “Detour” was “Rear Projection: The Motion Picture”. I get the sense that most of this movie’s production was the cast in a stationary car pretending to drive and/or sitting in silence as Al narrates.
• Speaking of driving, I noticed a few shots during the hitchhiking montage where the steering wheel is on the wrong side, and it looks like Al is hitchhiking across Europe. Turns out that in order to save money, some of the shots of Al hitchhiking back East from the film’s opening were flipped and used for his trip out West, hence why some of these shots look slightly off.
• In another alleged bit of B movie cost cutting, Haskell’s car – a 1941 Lincoln Continental convertible – was Edgar Ulmer’s actual car. Could he bill the mileage to PRC?
• Because movies like “Detour” tend to fly under the radar, I was completely unaware of the film’s twists and turns. Once Haskell becomes unresponsive I immediately started saying “Oh no oh shit oh no” over and over. It’s a delightful twist, the moment that starts the domino effect for the rest of the movie, and Haskell hitting his head on a rock as he falls out of the car is the cherry on top. From this point on, Al is royally screwed.

• What can I say about Ann Savage? She doesn’t show up until about halfway through the movie, but once she does she owns every frame of it. In a Hollywood filled with glamorized, uninteresting ingenues, Ann Savage lives up to her last name with a brassy, cutting performance. She’s somewhere between a young Bette Davis and a young Elaine Stritch, with a bit of Barbara Stanwyck thrown in for fun. Side note: As much as I wish Ann Savage was her real name, it’s actually Berniece Lyon.

• Also, it doesn’t help that Al makes several bad decisions after he discovers Haskell’s body, including PICKING UP ANOTHER HITCHHIKER. Did you learn nothing?
• I will once again advocate for black-and-white film as an aesthetic choice for certain movies, including this one. The film’s third act in Hollywood would have been too bright and flashy in color, especially compared to its New York beginning. Every spot in this movie is bleak, because Al and Vera make it bleak.
• “Detour” contains what I assume is the second most famous movie scene where someone on the run tries to quickly sell their car at a lot. Three if you count “The Muppet Movie“.
• I don’t want to spoil the ending, suffice it to say that there was a point where I had no idea where the movie was going, and it was great. It all culminates with Al’s final narration, in which he concludes that at any time “Fate or some mysterious force can put the finger on you or me for no good reason at all.” It’s this unrelenting pessimism towards life that makes “Detour” an irresistible antidote to its more upbeat big studio contemporaries.

• After PRC folded in 1946, most of their film library was sold off and started making the late night TV rounds in the 1950s. At some point in the early ’70s, “Detour” slipped into the public domain. Mixed with Ulmer fitting in neatly with the then-popular “auteur theory” of film, “Detour” found a second life with a new generation of film critics and became a prime example of a classic Hollywood B movie. 
• While Ann Savage lived long enough to see the film and her performance be re-evaluated and celebrated, Tom Neal…did not. In a bizarre bit of life imitating art, Neal was convicted of involuntary manslaughter when he accidentally shot and killed his wife Gale Bennett. He served six years before being released on parole, and died less than a year later.
• And finally, “Detour” got the remake treatment in 1992, using the original script with several deleted sequences intact. Al was played by Tom Neal’s son Tom Neal Jr. in his first and only on-screen performance.

The Plot: With the U.S. on the verge of entering World War I, producer Thomas Ince presents his unapologetic parable for peace. The kingdom of Nurma is sent to war by its King (Herschel Maydall), and his court inventor Count Ferdinand (Howard C. Hickman) takes his latest invention – a submarine – out to battle. While on a mission to sink civilian ship the ProPatria, Ferdinand is struck unconscious and ends up in Purgatory. There he meets Jesus (George Fisher), who urges him to repent and advocate for peace in His name. When Ferdinand returns, his newfound anti-war pleas fall on deaf ears, and the King has him put to death. As Ferdinand lies dying in his cell, Jesus intervenes and shows the King how his needless war has ravaged his kingdom. It’s an epic anti-war statement that unfortunately still holds up today.

Why It Matters: The NFR gives a rundown of the movie, and admits that Thomas Ince is best remembered today “for his infamously mysterious death in 1924” rather than for any artistic achievement. An essay by Ince expert Brian Taves contextualizes the hell out of this movie and its relation to the first World War.

But Does It Really?: Oh brother, this movie. “Civilization” is definitely on the historical side of things; an Important Movie of its time that has all but disappeared in the last century, and even at 83 minutes it is a slog to get through. I get why “Civilization” is on the list, and I’ll give it a pass for representing America’s trepidation to enter World War I, but I’m ready to check out of Inceville for a while.

Title Track: “Civilization” was originally titled “He Who Returned”, but was changed shortly before the film’s premiere when Thomas Ince decided it was “misleading and ambiguous”. “Civilization” was chosen for its straightforwardness, with the opening prologue stating there is no civilization until we have achieved peace. So…I guess we’re still waiting on that one.

• “Civilization” was Thomas Ince at his peak as a Hollywood producer. A few years later Ince sold his share of Triangle Studios back to Mack Sennett and D. W. Griffith (the other two “sides”) to focus on independent productions. In 1924, Ince was in the middle of negotiations to loan out his studios to William Randolph Hearst when he died aboard Hearst’s yacht. Cause of death: pre-existing heart conditions. End of story.