Rio Grande Page #3

Synopsis: Rio Grande takes place after the Civil War when the Union turned their attention towards the Apaches. Union officer Kirby Yorke is in charge of an outpost on the Rio Grande in which he is in charge of training of new recruits one of which is his son whom he hasn't seen in 15 years. He whips him into shape to take on the Apaches but not before his mother shows up to take him out of there.The decision to leave is left up to Trooper Yorke who decides to stay and fight. Through it all Kirby and Kathleen though separated for years fall back into love and decide that it's time to give it another try. But Yorke faces his toughest battle when his unorthodox plan to outwit the elusive Apaches leads to possible court- martial. Locked in a bloody Indian war, he must fight to redeem his honor and save the love and lives of his broken family
Genre: Romance, Western
Director(s): John Ford
Production: Artisan Entertainment
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
7.2
Rotten Tomatoes:
75%
NOT RATED
Year:
1950
105 min
793 Views


- Hang these up by the feet, Sandy.

- Yo.

- Good morning, Mrs York.

- Morning, Doctor.

- Busy woman.

- Yes, indeed.

- Can I help with your wash?

- I generally let one of the other ladies.

But I'm sure the sergeant here

would like to give you his trade.

As a doctor, I would diagnose those

as saddle-sores.

- Trooper Tyree?

- Here, sir.

I have a demand from the Deputy

United States Marshal to seize you.

"Under warrant issued by due

and legal process by the district court,

"Fernando X Hernandez, judge,

on charges of manslaughter."

The way that language sounds,

I must be arrested.

As the commanding officer is not

present, you will await his signature.

Got any place I can lock this soldier boy

up till I get them papers signed?

With a fella like this, sir, I mean,

a desperado, leave him at the hospital.

It's a good idea.

I can get my feet checked.

They been bothering me.

You wanna come along peaceful

or want me to use these cuffs on you?

I'm always peaceful,

and there ain't no use doing nothin' else.

Excuse me, ma'am.

Are you arresting that nice young man?

Not me, Mrs York.

The United States Deputy Marshal.

Manslaughter! Well,

what are you going to do about it?

A nice gentle soul who'd walk ten miles

out of his way before he'd step on an ant.

You get him some tobacco,

anything he wants.

And we'll also get him a lawyer.

- He's partial to molasses candy.

- Well, get some.

Yankee justice.

Arresting a nice young man like that

for manslaughter.

And promoting arsonists

to be sergeant majors!

Uncle Timmy!

Singers! Sing out.

Make you forget your thirst.

Doctor, I get spots in front of me eyes

and me heart is palpitating.

- And I'm...

- Sitting on it.

Thank you, Doctor.

- I feel better now.

- It'll kill you or cure you.

Doctor, with your fine education,

would you be telling me something?

- Yeah.

- What is an arsonist?

An arsonist is a person

that sets buildings on fire

for profit or perverse excitement.

Is that what it is?

Why?

It all started when we rode

down to Shenandoah Valley, Doctor.

Every trooper of General Sheridan's

command during the late war.

It was because he'd ordered to burn

the crops and the barns at Bridesdale.

With herself looking daggers at me.

And same as at the colonel.

He was a captain then.

Silent as death, she was,

with a baby in her arms, little Jeff.

Little Jeff.

Well, it was grim duty

for both you and the colonel.

- That was his wife's plantation?

- Aye.

It was owned by the same family

ever since that grand Irishman,

Sir Walter Raleigh, first smoked a pipe.

Seems like I've heard that story before.

And there's the black hand

that did the dirty deed.

I wish you'd knock it off with that stick.

Halt!

I make it out to be a Mexican officer

approaching to meet you, sir.

Cool off and water your horses.

Bugler. Honours, please.

Three flourishes.

- Welcome to Rio Bravo.

- Buenas tardes, el teniente.

And my respect, Senor Coronel York.

Wish I'd reached the Rio Grande sooner.

I wish the same. It would have saved me

three brave men killed and two wounded.

Have you medical aid for your wounded?

Unfortunately, no.

Tell the surgeon to bring the pack mule,

cross the Rio Grande...

- With your permission.

- Granted with gratitude.

...and attend our wounded comrades

on the Rio Bravo side.

- I would suggest...

- Yes, Senor Coronel?

...Naches and his band are a scourge

to both your country and mine.

We can catch them before

they reach their mountain stronghold.

I would gladly place myself and my men

under your command,

if you would invite us

to join you in pursuit.

Unfortunately, Senor Coronel,

my orders are firm.

I must above all protect the Rio Bravo.

With three men, sir? That's courage.

And my orders are firm also.

I must stay on the Rio Grande side.

My compliments

on your fidelity to duty, sir. Adis.

I am eternally in your debt,

Senor Coronel.

Bueno. Vmonos.

I'm sorry, Kathleen.

Your sense of duty again, Kirby.

I've seen things that make my sense

of duty important. I'll take you home.

I'm sorry your duty made you destroy

two beautiful things:

Bridesdale and us.

I was sorry, too, when it had to be done.

You know that.

But you rebuilt Bridesdale.

That was easy.

It required just physical effort.

The other would require more?

It would be a start if you'd let Jeff go.

And get you back?

If that were a condition.

I could say yes to you

very easily, Kathleen.

But I owe Jeff something.

He's a fine boy.

But he must learn

that a man's word to anything,

even his own destruction,

must be honoured.

Good evening, York.

How about a cup of coffee?

General.

To your very good health, sir.

To the President of the United States.

Perhaps Mrs York will favour us

with a sentiment.

To my only rival.

The United States Cavalry.

Sir, the traditional singers

would like to sing...

- The regimental singers.

- Just what I was going to say, sir.

The regimental singers would like to sing

a traditional song for himself.

Very good, Quincannon.

Carry on.

Donnelly, sing it.

Thank you, men. Allow them the privilege

of the sutler's store until midnight.

We thank the general.

Now, don't abuse the privilege. Men.

- Goodnight, General.

- Why, you're not...

May we walk with you to your quarters?

- Thank you.

- Goodnight, Mrs York.

Goodnight, sir.

If that marshal's here,

I'll sign those papers now.

Did you hear that music?

That sweet, lilting music.

You blasted policeman,

get to the colonel's office

and get your papers signed.

And take this poor boy with you.

No hard feelings, son.

Protect my interests, Doc.

- Yeah.

- Protect my interests!

Protect my... interests.

Hey, son, do you know

that man has a warrant

charging you with manslaughter?

A lot of people use that word

"manslaughter" pretty freely.

Boy, why don't you tell us about this?

Maybe we can help you.

Well, it could be that a fella had a run-in

with a Yankee down in Texas.

Somethin' about the fella's... sister.

It could be that the Yankee

drawed a gun and started shootin',

got himself killed.

Mrs York wants to get you a lawyer

to get you out of this.

Thank her kindly for me and tell her...

Look, fellas, my sister's gettin' married

to a man she grew up with.

A Texican. Fine fella.

They kinda plan on goin' to California

and startin' fresh.

And I don't think it's quite right to start

a lot of talk and scandal in open court

until their dust has settled behind them.

Well, that makes sense to me.

Of course, when I hear

they're in California,

I'll be wantin' that lawyer,

wantin' him bad.

Tell you the truth,

I kinda like this man's army.

Thank you for your kindness.

Let's get her done, Sergeant.

If that boy was one of my troopers,

I wouldn't be so eager to see him hung.

I'll just take a little sup for me cold.

And then I'll take it to the colonel's tent.

Unless you're a blackguard,

steal a horse, stay away for a few days.

Come in!

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James Kevin McGuinness

James Kevin McGuinness (December 20, 1893 – December 4, 1950) was an American screenwriter and film producer. He wrote for 36 films between 1927 and 1950. He wrote for The New Yorker magazine. He was born in Ireland and immigrated to New York in 1904. He arrived in Los Angeles in the 1920s at the dawn of the "talkies" era and thereafter worked in the film industry as a writer and later a producer. He died in New York in 1950 from a heart attack. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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