Clarence Brown Lends Power and Truth to William Faulkner’s Intruder in the Dust

 

Among the most honest and persuasive of the late 1940’s-early 1950’s “message pictures” that sought to delve into the subject of racism and the need for greater tolerance in society in regards to race relations (see also Home of the Brave, Lost Boundaries and Pinky), 1949’s Intruder in the Dust, based on the 1948 William Faulkner novel, offers a riveting murder mystery set in the deep South. Blessed with undertaking screenwriter Ben Maddow’s fine adaptation of one of Faulkner’s most assessable works, veteran MGM director Clarence Brown (who also produced the film), after a rewarding 1940s at the studio that included helming such revered classics as The Human Comedy, National Velvet and The Yearling, capped the decade with perhaps his finest directional achievement, bringing the proper grit and, filming on location in Faulkner’s vicinity of Oxford, Mississippi, evoking a strong rural aura, while cinematography Robert Surtees, aided by Robert Kern’s judicious editing, impactfully establishes the perfect mise en scène with each carefully composed shot of the small town and its citizens with “you are there” style. An excellent ensemble, led by Juano Hernández in a forceful, skillfully intuitive performance, artfully blend in with their surroundings, bringing much flavor and humanity to the provocative, absorbing production and give Brown the chance to once again prove his gift for bringing out the best from a talented cast.

                With precision and insight, Brown expertly unfolds the tale relating to Lucas Beauchamp, a proud, dignified, independent black man accused of murdering a local white man, then hoping to evade a lynch mob desired by all but a few brave townsfolk who seek to uncover the facts behind the crime in the dead of night. As he did with The Yearling, with on-location filming Brown is able to shake off the MGM gloss apparent in most of the studio’s output, however misplaced it sometimes may be, to realistically depict the injustices aimed at Lucas, and the dire consequences it seems he will inevitably face, while Lucas’ lawyer’s young nephew Chick is drawn into the plot, along with his friend Aleck and a kind-but-tough elderly lady, Miss Eunice Habersham. In depicting this trio’s after dark quest to discover evidence that may assist Lucas, Brown maintains an unsettling, ominous tone, clearly showing the dangers that await the team if they run into the wrong party, specifically the dead man’s family members. The director also allows most of the action to occur in a straightforward fashion, trusting the audience to assess the themes of the film without having the main points illustrated in a heavy-handed manner; this mature approach helps Intruder remain a fresh viewing experience over 70 years after its initial release. After this fine accomplishment, Brown would direct four more films, including 1951’s whimsical Angels in the Outfield and his final film the following year, Plymouth Adventure, before enjoying a lengthy retirement until his death in 1987 at age 97.

Possessing both a regal bearing and a humane, relatable presence, Juano Hernández commands the screen with one of the most multi-faceted characterizations of an African American yet seen in film.  Creatively utilizing his searching, soulful eyes, Hernandez adds rich shadings to Lucas with nary a word in many scenes, drawing viewers to his serene, mystifying presence, while also communicating the fear he holds concerning his environs and towards those intent on destroying him. His deep, resonant voice also indicates the wisdom and self-awareness that Lucas holds as he ponders his fate and relations to the few honorable people trying to help him. Born in 1896, Hernández had toiled in vaudeville, radio, the Broadway stage, and a few movies (including three by renown director Oscar Micheaux) before his mainstream cinematic breakthrough in Intruder. The strong critical reaction to his work led to Hernández building a solid film resume over the next twenty years, with first-rate work in such features as Young Man with a Horn, The Breaking Point, Kiss Me Deadly, The Pawnbroker and his final film, They Call Me Mr. Tibbs!, released just before his death in 1970.

Reuniting with Brown after being discovered for The Yearling, Claude Jarman Jr. comes through again for his mentor, adding shading to his portrayal of the adolescent Chick Mallison, who learns to come of age through his dealings with Lucas. Jarman clearly illustrates the awkwardness the biased Chick first displays towards the proud Lucas when they meet on the latter’s property, then the teen’s more reflective, open mindset as he develops a deeper understanding of the older man’s complex nature and works to aid Lucas when he faces the wrath of the community. Jarman does a fine job playing Chick with a straightforwardness and unforced innocence that renders the young man’s path to maturity and greater empathy towards others satisfying and believable. Jarman would be granted another good part in one of John Ford’s best Westerns, Rio Grande then, as with many young stars before and since his brief reign, find parts harder to come by, with his last feature 1956’s The Great Locomotive Chase and a television appearance in 1979’s epic miniseries Centennial, before in later years proudly appearing on the Oscar stage with his juvenile award for The Yearling alongside a fleet of other Oscar winners, before his passing in January 2025 at 90.

Given the lengthiest amounts of dialogue, David Brian has possibly his best screen role as John Stevens, the initially presumptuous lawyer who at first believes the charges against Lucas, then has a gradual shift in his opinions as he ponders the increasing evidence presented. Although the lawyer, serving as a touchpoint for Chick and the audience, is given speechifying that sometimes borders on the pedantic, Brian does a nice job showing the fair-minded change of heart that marks the upstanding Lawyer’s ethically sound mindset. A former song-and-dance man, Brian shifted gears and started strong out of the gate in 1949 as a new, edgy Warner Bros. leading man; in addition to fine work in Intruder the year brought him attention as the object of affection for leading Warner stars Joan Crawford and Bette Davis in two prime melodramas, Flamingo Road and the equally must-see Beyond the Forest. Following this high-profile start in films, Brian carried on for the next two decades in a lot of Westerns and some other genres, with titles such as Million Dollar Mermaid, The High and the Mighty, How the West was Won and The Rare Breed highlighting his cinematic oeuvre.

Veteran character actress Elizabeth Patterson, as the morally upright, no-nonsense, observant Miss Habersham, offers a highly individual portrayal of a senior citizen who is intent on taking action to aid Lucas, when most of the town is resigned to accept the probability that he is doomed. With grace and economical reserve, Patterson makes such every expression detailing the fine lady’s altruistic, noble countenance is exactly right, whether the character is showing bravery, reflectiveness or fear when the pensive heroine is made to take on Lucas’ key adversary, the murder victim’s vengeful brother, at the entrance to the prison wherein Lucas is held in one of the film’s most trenchant and impactful segments. Starting on Broadway on 1913, then moving to films in 1926, Patterson’s aptitude for playing spry aunts and old maids with distinction and (when appropriate) comic zest made her a beloved figure to moviegoers of the 1930s and 1940s, in works such as the peerless Love Me Tonight, Remember the Night and I Married a Witch. In a dramatic vein, Intruder may represent Patterson’s zenith. There is a sense of immediacy to her work that shows she is always clearly in-the-moment and genuine as the practical-minded, alert Miss Habersham attends to the weighty matters at hand, causing an audience to root for her and her partners in a risky nighttime excursion, and hope no harm comes her way then, or in broad daylight later in the aforementioned jailhouse confrontation. Patterson would lessen her onscreen output after this peak, featuring in only a few 1950’s films, but gaining a much bigger audience appearing in several episodes throughout the course of I Love Lucy’s phenomenal run, before making her last movie, Tall Story, in 1960, then passing in 1966 at age 91.

Among the rest of a superior cast, another stalwart character performer, Porter Hall, is memorable as Nub Gowrie, the patriarch grieving his murdered son, Vinston. Starting in films in 1931, Hall carved a niche for himself as a direct everyman and, as with Patterson, could add edge and/or comic sensibility to a part, resulting in rich, authentic work in classics such as His Girl Friday, Sullivan’s Travels, Going My Way and providing some welcome lighter moments as Walter Neff’s unwanted witness in Double Indemnity. As Nub, Hall brings a somber dignity and surprising compassion to role, making an audience strongly identify with this despondent father. Will Geer has just the right calm, unassuming demeanor as the sage Sheriff Hampton, confident that justice will be served, but willing to listen to reason as the mystery comes to the fore, bringing a backwoods charm to the role that would serve as a huge asset to his most famous, Emmy-winning part in the 1970’s as Grandma Walton. Charles Kemper, who had a brief run in feature films (after starting his career in shorts) from 1945 until his early death at 49 in 1950, also does spot-on work as Crawford Gowrie, aptly conveying the loathsomeness of the hateful man who is set on ensuring Lucas’ ruin, while conversely Elzie Emanuel brings some levity to the story as Aleck, Chick’s loyal friend who puts his qualms aside to assist Chick and Miss Habersham in trying to unlock the secret surrounding Vinston’s murder. Finally, Brown adds an abundance of regional flavor by including many locals as extras in the mob scenes, helping to instill a vivid sense of time and place with these extras’ inclusion in the scenario.

                With the film’s October 1949 release, Intruder was properly recognized as an insightful, mature drama addressing prevalent, controversial issues, alongside other films of the same ilk, such as Home of the Brave, Lost Boundaries and Pinky. Although the stark subject matter limited the movies commercial appeal, critics were quick to notice this cinematic benchmark’s achievements. The National Board of Review placed Intruder third on its list of the year’s best pictures, while The New York Times also included the film on its Ten Best list. The thought-provoking movie merited the United Nations Award from the British Academy, Maddow was nominated for two awards by the Screen Writers Guild of America, and both Brian (for Supporting Actor) and Hernández (for Best New Actor) were up for Golden Globes. The uncompromising, striking view of the evils involved in enforcing prejudice, including sometimes daring dialogue that still packs a wallop, has allowed the movie to resonant firmly with viewers throughout the decades. Credit for Intruder in the Dust maintaining its power to move and provide plenty of intellectual stimulation for audiences to the present day must go to the exemplary efforts of Brown and a talented cast and crew for bringing one of William Faulkner’s most candid and accessible tales to the screen with exceptional flavor, discernment and sincerity.