Acclaimed as one of the greatest westerns ever, maybe THE greatest, and what I see is a pretty good western with a standard story, nice photography, and some OK acting. The plot's very familiar: stranger comes in from nowhere and tries to stay out of the virtuous homesteaders fighting the greedy, evil ranchers, but he gets pushed into it. That's Alan Ladd, effectively underplaying, but with his marcelled hairdo and 5'6" frame, it's hard to buy him as a burly fighter and ace shootist. He befriends homesteader Van Heflin, who's excellent, and Jean Arthur, whom we always love, but here she mostly spouts concerned-mom dialogue and hasn't a lot to do. Their son, Brandon de Wilde, was terrific in other things. But here, director George Stevens forces his line readings and lingers too long on the kid's reactions. It's prettily shot, and some appealing supporting players turn up: Elisha Cook Jr., Ellen Corby, Edgar Buchanan, even Nancy Kulp in a couple of bits. But the central conflict, who gets to own the land and further the American dream, is conveyed in dozens of other movies just as effectively, and the man's-gotta-do-what-a-man's-gotta-do dialogue gets tiresome, and de Wilde's worshipfulness of Shane becomes just a bit creepy.
