The 1950 movie that saved James Stewart from becoming obsolete: “I had trouble getting my career going”
As one of ‘Golden Age’ Hollywood’s definitive stars, it’s hard to imagine a world where James Stewart had faded into obscurity by the end of the 1940s.
He was concerned that it would happen, though, with his status as a decorated war hero meaning little in the grand scheme of things. Medals or not, to claw his way back to the top of the ladder, he needed the same thing as every other actor: a hit. Upon his return from World War II, he didn’t find it.
Stewart’s first film after the end of the conflict might have been his personal favourite out of everything he made, it might be the most beloved role of his career, and it might be an ironclad classic that gets dusted off and rewatched by millions of people around the world on an annual basis, but It’s a Wonderful Life was a flop. Not just any flop, but a flop so big it killed a studio.
It wasn’t the easiest way to reassimilate himself into movie stardom, and from there, he only grew more nervous. For the rest of the decade, he was working with some of the biggest directors in the business, including William Wellman, Henry Hathaway, King Vidor, and Alfred Hitchcock, but to no avail.
Magic Town, On Our Way, Rope, and You Gotta Stay Happy were all disappointments at the box office, and as the calendar ticked over to the 1950s, Stewart was concerned. “After I came back from the service in 1945, I had trouble getting my career going again,” he confessed. “I wasn’t under contract to any studio, and I made about seven pictures that just didn’t go.”
It was seven, so he couldn’t be faulted for his recollection, even if they were all unified by the inescapable fact that none of them hit big. Too many duds in a row is enough to place anyone’s career on the skids, whether they’re James Stewart or not, but luckily for him, salvation was right around the corner, in the form of Anthony Mann.
“Somebody introduced me to Mann, who wanted to make Winchester ’73 about 60 miles west of Tucson,” he reflected. “We hadn’t been filming for long before I knew this man had sort of brought things together for me.” In addition to turning a tidy profit and making Stewart a healthy windfall from his participation, the noir-tinged western was a huge turning point.
Suddenly, he’d found himself a new favourite collaborator. By the end of 1955, Stewart and Mann had made another seven pictures together, with Winchester ’73 and the darker, more complex character of Lin McAdam marking the next stage in the leading man’s evolution, where the ‘aw shucks’ that made him a household name in the first place were replaced by a harder edge.
In 1949, Stewart was feeling like yesterday’s man, and a fallen star who couldn’t buy a hit to save his life. By the following summer and Mann’s fortuitous intervention, he’d managed to rehabilitate himself in a single movie.
