Saturday May 7th | 2 Movies
Two grand Gary Cooper adventures, The Lives of a Bengal Lancer (1935) and Beau Geste (1939), paired by TCM for a rousing double-feature, are literally a world removed from the American westerns in which Cooper essayed the archetype of the strong, silent hero.
Kevin Pollack has an ingenious bit called One-Word Impressions, in which he is limited to one word to sell an entire impersonation. A one-word Gary Cooper impression would be a gimme: “Yup.” It evokes the most popular characterization of Cooper as the stoic man of few words, as quintessentially personified in The Virginian (1929), in which Cooper responded to a profane insult with, “If you wanna call me that…smile.”
On a 1959 episode of To Tell the Truth, blindfolded panelist Bennett Cerf quickly guessed mystery guest Cooper’s identity by asking, “Do you kick pebbles a lot and say ‘Yup’?” In the Doris Day musical, It’s a Great Feeling (1949), Cooper spoofed himself in a self-deprecating cameo opposite singer Dennis Morgan by responding with his signature “Yup” to every Morgan statement. “You’ve been a big help,” Morgan thanks Cooper. “I have?” Cooper asks. “Yup,” Morgan replies.
Accepting Cooper’s Best Actor Oscar for his iconic role as Marshal Will Kane at the 1953 Academy Awards ceremony, John Wayne said, “I’m glad to see that they’re giving this to a man who is not only most deserving, but has conducted himself throughout his years in our business in a manner we can all be proud of.” (Insert your own 2022 Oscars comment here.)
Cooper is most associated with portraying heroes (Ernest Hemingway had Cooper in mind when he wrote the character of Robert Jordan in A Farewell to Arms, a role which Cooper did play in the screen adaptation). The Lives of a Bengal Lancer and Beau Geste spotlight Cooper’s more lively and dashing side.
Directed by Henry Hathaway and sharing the title of Francis Yeats-Brown’s 1930 autobiography, Bengal Lancer finds Cooper as Scottish-Canadian Lieutenant Alan McGregor, mentor to two new recruits to the 41st Bengal Lancers, who are charged with patrolling the northwest frontier of India and the protection of 300 million people during the British Raj. One is the garrulous cavalryman Lieutenant Forsythe (Franchot Tone), the other, the “unseasoned” Donald Stone (Richard Cromwell), son of the 41st’s commander Col. Tom Stone (Guy Standing).
Cooper’s McGregor has a penchant for going rogue and disobeying direct orders when his unit is under attack. “There’s no room for sentimentality in the army,” the elder Stone tells him. That extends to Stone’s own son, who he has not seen since he was a boy and of whom he is determined to not give deferential treatment.
McGregor, whom Forsythe pegs as “the rough soldier with a heart of gold,” has a lot to learn about the military, and he gets that. “How can I tell you what it’s all about when I don’t know myself?” he tells the younger Stone. But when the lad is kidnapped by evil chieftain Mohammed Khan (Douglass Dumbrille) to goad his father and the brigade into a trap, McGregor refuses to sit by. “Enough thinking and talking,” he declares. “I’m fed up with this cat and mouse business.”
The New York Times hailed The Lives of a Bengal Lancer as “a superb adventure story and easily the liveliest film in town.” It was nominated for seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Adapted Screenplay. The film elevated Cooper’s profile and paved the way for lead roles that explored new shadings on his hero image.
Beau Geste, directed by William A. Wellman, is a seminal action film and one of Cooper’s best. It’s a ripping yarn about three close-knit brothers—Beau (Cooper and played as a youth by Donald O’Connor), Digby (Robert Preston) and John (Ray Milland). “The Gestes always stick together,” it is said, so when Beau is considered the prime suspect in the mysterious disappearance of the famed Blue Water sapphire from the home of their lifelong benefactor, his two siblings join him in the French Foreign Legion.
The title character is in Cooper’s wheelhouse (Hollywood Western accent notwithstanding), a solid and selfless hero whose name aptly translated to “the beautiful gesture.” But in his roughhousing scenes with his brothers, Cooper adds some of the playfulness he displayed in Ernst Lubitsch’s sophisticated comedy Design for Living (1933).
Cooper was nominated for five Academy Awards for Best Actor and won twice for High Noon (1952) and Sergeant York (1941). Seven of his films have been inducted into the Library of Congress’ National Film Registry as “historically, culturally or aesthetically significant,” a benchmark shared only with Sidney Poitier.
In 1961, he was presented with an honorary Academy Award (James Stewart accepted it on his behalf). Director William Wyler presented the statuette and read its inscription: “To Gary Cooper for his many memorable screen performances and the international recognition he, as an individual, has gained for the motion picture industry.”
“For a man who has never had much to say,” Wyler continued, “no one has ever said more to the credit of our industry and more than that to our country because Gary Cooper represents the type of American who is loved in the four corners of the earth.”
