The Alamo, a 2004 film starring Billy Bob Thornton, Dennis Quaid, Jason Patric, and Patrick Wilson, and directed by John Lee Hancock, billed itself as the first historically accurate retelling of the famous 1836 siege and battle of the Alamo. As a Texas Revolution history buff, I take contention with this claim. The film offers a capable depiction of its subject matter, and while it gets many details correct, it also indulges in questionable revisionist narratives.
Released by Disney's Touchstone Pictures, The Alamo had a troubled production history. Original director Ron Howard left the film after Disney refused to front the budget he wanted, and also required Howard to keep the rating PG-13. With Howard's exit also came the departures of actors Russell Crowe and Ethan Hawke from the project. Despite these setbacks, the film went into production under Director John Lee Hancock.
Produced in the midst of the Iraq War, the film's screenplay is openly critical of Anglo ambitions in 1830s Texas. To what degree the screenwriters were trying to make a parallel with contemporaneous events is unknown. But the film is anxious to provide a revisionist take on the Texas Revolution. The Anglo settlers in Texas are generally depicted as greedy land grabbers, frothing to fulfill the credo of Manifest Destiny. Early on in the film, Sam Houston (Dennis Quaid) attempts to lure then Congressman David Crockett (Billy Bob Thornton) to Texas with the promise of free land. The encounter never occurred in real life, but the filmmakers use it to cast the ambitions of American pioneers in a certain light. At one point in the film, a Tejano revolutionary remarks, "these lowlifes want the entire world!". While I personally feel the Iraq War was a travesty and a waste of life and resources, it is in no way comparable to the Texas Revolution.
The historical reality was a bit more nuanced. But like many revisionist narratives, The Alamo is eager to reduce its central conflict to greed and prejudice vs. multicultural harmony and goodwill. Historically, the Anglo settlers that came to Texas were motivated by a wide variety of factors, unique to each group and family. Mexico was eager to settle its vast territory of Coahuila y Tejas, and so established an open immigration policy. The promise of land, a new beginning, and freedom to live as one pleased was attractive to many. Settlement in Texas was contingent upon a conversion to Catholicism as well as an oath of loyalty sworn under the Mexican Constitution of 1824. General and president Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna would later shred the document, sparking the revolution.
The Alamo more or less depicts the Texian freedom fighters as a band of deplorable scoundrels. Aside from the characters of David Crockett, William Travis, and James Bowie, we barely get to know any of them before they are butchered in the pre-dawn attack of March 6.
The aforementioned "big three" or "the trinity of the Alamo" are depicted as seriously flawed men doing their best despite the circumstances. Thornton's Crockett is a world weary celebrity, trapped by his "King of the Wild Frontier" image, which he feels is a sham. Travis (Patrick Wilson) is a foppish young Calvary officer, eager to find his grit and prove himself. Bowie (Jason Patric) is a broken down wreck, mourning the loss of his young wife and undergoing an existential crisis.
While Thornton, Wilson, and Patric perform their roles well, their characters as written do not really reflect historical truth. But these depictions are central to the relativistic themes the screenwriters and director were trying to convey, namely that there are no heroes or villains in a story like this--only flawed humans who kill each other out of fear and greed. While perhaps a noble attempt at humanizing these famous historical figures, it is more an over-correction to past Anglo-centric idealizations of these men. Both are extremes and not indicative of historical reality.
Unfortunately, Hancock's historical advisers were not the best. The film did not utilize the latest in Alamo scholarship, but rather promulgated revisionist perspectives of the seventies and eighties. Chief among these is the notion that David Crockett did not die in the final chaotic battle, but surrendered and was executed under the direct order of Santa Anna. The primary historical source for this narrative comes from the post-war diary of a Mexican officer, imprisoned and quite bitter towards the now disgraced Mexican president. Knowing of Crockett's celebrity, the account was no doubt a politically motivated attempt on the part of its author to smear the reputation of Santa Anna. In all probability, Crockett was part of the large group of Alamo defenders who broke free from the compound that morning and were cut down by the Mexican Calvary. This pivotal event is not depicted in the film.
The filmmakers went to lengths to recreate the Alamo compound and the town of San Antonio as it was in 1836. They didn't quite succeed. The town and mission are too small and claustrophobic, and do not accurately reflect the lush environment of the San Antonio River basin. Also, designer Michael Corenblith made some bizarre decisions, such as altering the position of the Alamo church, which throws off the overall symmetry of the mission as it looked in 1836. John Wayne's efforts for his 1960 epic are much more evocative on screen. Corenblith utilized perishable materials to construct his set, while Wayne's designer used actual stone, and it shows.
Historicity aside, the film succeeds in its atmosphere and tone. Hancock does a commendable job at conveying the desperate nature of the thirteen day siege, particularly the harrowing experience of the Mexican army's continual cannon bombardment. The final nighttime battle is both quick and intense, as it was in reality. Though it is in this area that the film could have benefited from Ron Howard's desired R rating. The film's meditations on death and suffering are also poignant, with the scenes of a deathly ill James Bowie standing out.
Carter Burwell's score is both haunting and understated. He employs woodwinds and acoustic sounds to great effect. Of note are David Crockett's performances on violin.
The Alamo is well-worth the time. But the definitive film on this historical subject has yet to be made.
The historical reality was a bit more nuanced. But like many revisionist narratives, The Alamo is eager to reduce its central conflict to greed and prejudice vs. multicultural harmony and goodwill. Historically, the Anglo settlers that came to Texas were motivated by a wide variety of factors, unique to each group and family. Mexico was eager to settle its vast territory of Coahuila y Tejas, and so established an open immigration policy. The promise of land, a new beginning, and freedom to live as one pleased was attractive to many. Settlement in Texas was contingent upon a conversion to Catholicism as well as an oath of loyalty sworn under the Mexican Constitution of 1824. General and president Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna would later shred the document, sparking the revolution.
The Alamo more or less depicts the Texian freedom fighters as a band of deplorable scoundrels. Aside from the characters of David Crockett, William Travis, and James Bowie, we barely get to know any of them before they are butchered in the pre-dawn attack of March 6.
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| Travis, Crockett, and Bowie |
The aforementioned "big three" or "the trinity of the Alamo" are depicted as seriously flawed men doing their best despite the circumstances. Thornton's Crockett is a world weary celebrity, trapped by his "King of the Wild Frontier" image, which he feels is a sham. Travis (Patrick Wilson) is a foppish young Calvary officer, eager to find his grit and prove himself. Bowie (Jason Patric) is a broken down wreck, mourning the loss of his young wife and undergoing an existential crisis.
While Thornton, Wilson, and Patric perform their roles well, their characters as written do not really reflect historical truth. But these depictions are central to the relativistic themes the screenwriters and director were trying to convey, namely that there are no heroes or villains in a story like this--only flawed humans who kill each other out of fear and greed. While perhaps a noble attempt at humanizing these famous historical figures, it is more an over-correction to past Anglo-centric idealizations of these men. Both are extremes and not indicative of historical reality.
Unfortunately, Hancock's historical advisers were not the best. The film did not utilize the latest in Alamo scholarship, but rather promulgated revisionist perspectives of the seventies and eighties. Chief among these is the notion that David Crockett did not die in the final chaotic battle, but surrendered and was executed under the direct order of Santa Anna. The primary historical source for this narrative comes from the post-war diary of a Mexican officer, imprisoned and quite bitter towards the now disgraced Mexican president. Knowing of Crockett's celebrity, the account was no doubt a politically motivated attempt on the part of its author to smear the reputation of Santa Anna. In all probability, Crockett was part of the large group of Alamo defenders who broke free from the compound that morning and were cut down by the Mexican Calvary. This pivotal event is not depicted in the film.
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| The final battle of the siege on March 6, 1836. |
The filmmakers went to lengths to recreate the Alamo compound and the town of San Antonio as it was in 1836. They didn't quite succeed. The town and mission are too small and claustrophobic, and do not accurately reflect the lush environment of the San Antonio River basin. Also, designer Michael Corenblith made some bizarre decisions, such as altering the position of the Alamo church, which throws off the overall symmetry of the mission as it looked in 1836. John Wayne's efforts for his 1960 epic are much more evocative on screen. Corenblith utilized perishable materials to construct his set, while Wayne's designer used actual stone, and it shows.
Historicity aside, the film succeeds in its atmosphere and tone. Hancock does a commendable job at conveying the desperate nature of the thirteen day siege, particularly the harrowing experience of the Mexican army's continual cannon bombardment. The final nighttime battle is both quick and intense, as it was in reality. Though it is in this area that the film could have benefited from Ron Howard's desired R rating. The film's meditations on death and suffering are also poignant, with the scenes of a deathly ill James Bowie standing out.
Carter Burwell's score is both haunting and understated. He employs woodwinds and acoustic sounds to great effect. Of note are David Crockett's performances on violin.
The Alamo is well-worth the time. But the definitive film on this historical subject has yet to be made.



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