The Searchers is an action-heavy, imploring, perplexing, and beautifully displayed Western. Ex-Confederate-turned-cowboy Ethan Edwards (John Wayne) returns to his brother Aaron’s (Walter Coy) ranch after an eight-year absence in 1868 West Texas. After a knowledgeable reunion where Ethan reveals his riches obtained from both the Civil War and the Second Franco-Mexican War, he and a group of other swashbucklers around town get rallied by police captain Rev. Capt. Samuel Johnson Clayton (Ward Bond) to find cattle suspected to be stolen by the nearby Comanche tribe. They discover it was a ploy; Ethan finds his brother’s family ranch burned down, with three family members dead and two daughters, including the 10-year-old Debbie (Natalie Wood), abducted. Fierce about getting the girls back and seeking revenge––partially driven by a cold, racist core against Native Americans––Ethan reluctantly pairs up with the sisters’ adopted 1/8 Comanche brother, Martin Pawley (Jeffrey Hunter), to find them. The pair explore the rocky Texan wilderness and industrial beginnings, seeing nothing but guns, guts, and much human darkness birthed from the U.S.’s colonizing dominance over Indigenous populations.

First and foremost, The Searchers’ most obvious flaw: it’s a racist and sexist film for what seems to be an attempt at an anti-racist and grisly commentary on living conditions and social standards. The vengeance-blinded antagonist, Chief Cicatriz/Scar (Henry Brandon), is played by a red-faced white guy; Ethan scoffs at anything Comanche “infected,” including Martin’s 1/8 Indigenous heritage, with the payoff being a reinforcement of Ethan’s white savior-dom; white women are little more than love-obsessed damsels waiting for their lovers, with Indigenous women degraded further to primitive, ritualistic dummies. Searchers is a mid-’50s film, so dated portrayals and insulting representations are unsurprising. Nonetheless, for a Western commenting both on American-Indigenous relations and the rough white characters living in the Wild West, it’s overwhelmingly ignorant.

That said, The Searchers is still entertainingly layered, thanks to intentionally cataclysmic plotting. From the initial cattle theft, fights and fears run rabid. Though the breakneck pace mixed with near-dead-stop conversations and revelations sludges the film forward, it’s primarily high-stakes, sulfuric fun. Ethan is also a complex protagonist, as he is not exactly a hero. His Confederacy ties exert his racist tendencies but also his resilience; even though others have surrendered and taken the Union’s pledge, he denies it at the beginning of the film. Pairing him with the most progressive aspect of Searchers––a naively courageous non-white Martin Pawley––leads to a forced reckoning of different perspectives, even if he doesn’t give up the fight. When an older Debbie pleads that the pair leave her to the Comanche, who “are my people. Go. Go, Martin, please!” Ethan prepares to shoot her, only for Martin to stand between them. Ethan has no choice but to accept what Debbie wants and understand he’s not anyone’s authority figure––a first step in understanding other people and cultures. On top of a brown-filtered colorscape, bloody shootouts and themes of vengeance versus justice make The Searchers a compelling thrill ride.

Overall, this installment in John Ford and Wayne’s collaborations is an obtuse but heavy-fisted Western. Its representations of revenge, justice, human nature, and cultural difference emerge boldly in The Searchers‘ organically chaotic five-year timespan, even if it’s still racist, sexist, and a bit overstuffed. For Western enjoyers, The Searchers can be a classic. For others, it’s at least an intriguing exploration of savage impulsivity and historically driven cultural divides.

Screens in 70 mm Thursday, 9/19, 7:30 pm & Friday, 9/20, 4:00 and 7:30 pm @ Somerville Theatre