Indian Giver

By J. C.

THE RETURN OF A MAN CALLED HORSE

Directed by IRVIN KERSHNER

Screenplay by JACK DE WITT

When last glimpsed six years ago in A Man Called Horse, Sir John Morgan (Richard Harris) had become an honorary blood brother to a tribe of Sioux. The operative word here is blood. Morgan, an English lord on tour of the U.S. in the early 19th century, was captured by the Indians and treated as a slave. He proved his mettle and finally became one of the tribe by enduring all manner of tests and initiation rites, including a ceremony in which he was strung up by his pectorals. Manhood through pain and all that. The Sioux apparently set great store by such things.

Set Pieces. So does Sir John, for when first encountered in this skillful if silly sequel, he is languishing in his manor house back in Merrie Olde, yearning for the great plains and the ennobling wisdom of the red man. Also, presumably, his pectorals have not had a good workout since he returned home. So Morgan journeys back to America and goes out West, where he discovers his tribesmen in a sorry state, chased off their modest preserves by a bunch of scurvy trappers. Morgan sets about helping the Indians vanquish their oppressors.

The new movie, which is at least an improvement on the original, serves as a good example of what a talented director can do with intractable material. Irvin Kershner, who is known for such pocket dramas as The Hoodlum Priest and Loving, is working for the first time on a large scale. With the excellent assistance of Cameraman Owen Roizman (The Exorcist), he brings off some fine set pieces: a buffalo hunt, the sacking of a fort. The movie is too glib about Indian spirituality to be good, too self-conscious about being on the Indians' side to be wholly convincing. The Return of a Man Called Horse is no more deeply Indian than the old Boy Scout ceremony of the Order of the Arrow. Kershner, at least, endures his own trial and proves his mettle by keeping the movie from seeming entirely ridiculous.

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