Samuel Fuller: 3 Films, 1 Sound (TFR Article)

By Meseret Haddis

I recently watched Samuel Fuller’s first three films, I Shot Jesse James, The Baron of Arizona and The Steel Helmet. Like Rossellini and Hitchcock, Fuller’s early films show a director in control of the frame, with a remarkable vision capable of capturing an audience through images. However, it was Fuller’s control of sound and music that I responded the strongest to.

A great example would be from The Baron of Arizona. In the film, James Reavis (Vincent Price) is on a mission to make an orphan girl, Sophia (Ellen Drew), the inheritor of Arizona. His quest takes him to a monastery in Spain where he has to forge the land rights that the King of Spain gave to the fictitious Baron of Arizona in an ancient book guarded by the monks of the monastery. James has spent years in the monastery until he is finally able to gain access into the library, where he can forge the claim. But before he is able to do that, another monk informs James that there is another copy of the King’s land rights at an official’s house in Madrid. By itself, the information doesn’t seem that devastating, but Fuller is able to build the importance and gravity of the James’s reaction with sound. At that moment of realization, James’ look is accompanied by a crash of noise that devolves into music.

Fuller through these three films is able to marry sound and image to create profound moments of sympathy, realization and anger. In I Shot Jesse James, music and sound are used to underscore a certain mood. The first time we see Bob Ford’s chance to kill Jesse is underscored with a spark of music. Here, the camera assumes Bob’ point of view, looking at the back of Jesse, suggesting his vulnerability as a character. But it isn’t until the sudden appearance of music that we fully realize the threat to Jesse’s life. The shot’s composition and angle alone couldn’t have conveyed this feeling; the music assists us.

The Steel Helmet provides another example. The film concerns Sgt. Zack (Gene Evans), a soldier fighting in the Korean War and the sole survivor of his company. In the first sequence, we see Sgt. Zack with his arms tied behind his back, crawling through the grass with the dead bodies of his company strewn about. The music coveys the physical struggle Zack is going through, contributing to a sense of anxiety within the audience. As he continues to struggle, we see a low angle shot of a gun pointed to the ground. Zack stops struggling and plays dead until caught by a Korean soldier. As the shots cut together between the soldier and Zack, the music and tension build. Similarly, when Zach is finally unbound, our anxiety lessens alongside the music.

In these three films, sound and image are often used in a way to build tension only to a point, so that only silence can alleviate or elevate a conflict. Take this clip from I Shot Jesse James, where a singer joins Bob Ford inside a bar and eventually plays a popular tune (which turns out to be a song about Jesse James). At a certain point, the singer remarks that Robert Ford is a dirty little coward, although Ford forces him to finish the song. At this point, Bob is grappling with what he has done to his friend, Jesse. Fuller adds no music to soften the blow of the look or the mood in the bar.

Fuller’s control of sound shows how effective it can be to convey a certain look or feeling with a soft tune or a loud noise. In these three films, Fuller understands the implication of what certain music or sounds have when married or juxtaposed to an image. He places such an importance on the music and sound in the beginning of these films that you can’t help but pay attention and notice when the sound is saying something that the images can’t express. Fuller understands that emotions can be told through looks, but that a look can have such a greater impact, if it’s accompanied by the right sound.