A Landmark Film, A Pathbreaking Score
When Twentieth Century-Fox released BROKEN ARROW in late July 1950, the film had been completed for nearly a year. Darryl F. Zanuck, in charge of production at Fox, was waiting to see if James Stewart appealed to the public in his first Western, Universal’s WINCHESTER 73, which was made after BROKEN ARROW but released a little over one month ahead of the Fox film. He was also subjecting BROKEN ARROW to considerable editing revisions after director Delmer Daves had completed his work. (1) As it turned out, Stewart’s career shift from the likable boy next door to a psychologically complex cowboy protagonist was a success.
BROKEN ARROW made a notable contribution to issue-oriented films in the post-war years in that its subject matter was based on actual historical situations that occurred in northern Arizona during 1870-1872 between Indians and Whites. Untouched in films up to this time was the story of Cochise (1824?-74), the powerful chief of the Apache nation, and Tom Jeffords (1823-1914), a White Army scout and later Indian agent as peacemakers. Jeffords’ campaign for peaceful coexistence between the cultures was demonstrated by the eventual signing of a peace treaty between the Apache nation and the US government. That this episode was taken largely from recorded history (except Jeffords’ marriage to an Indian woman invented for the film), as novelized by Elliott Arnold in BLOOD BROTHER, made this motion picture even more important.
Albert Maltz, the then-blacklisted screenwriter (using fellow screenwriter Michael Blankfort to “front” the script for him), urged Zanuck to treat this remarkable subject matter in documentary fashion. In his foreword to the first version of the script, Maltz, whose credit was finally put on the film in 1991, advised Zanuck: “Although this is a story film and not a documentary, it would be regrettable if the film did not convey the quality of authenticity present in a documentary and the fascination always contained in the facts of history. Both the style of the narration and the selection of background detail have been directed to achieve these ends.” (2) Fortunately, BROKEN ARROW did not live up to Maltz’s hope as a documentary, but some scenes were bridged by Jeffords’ (Stewart’s) narration to give it an historical flavor. While the heroics of Tom Jeffords and the nobility of Cochise, played with restraint by Jeff Chandler, appear dated after 50 years, in its initial release, it was a benchmark film. Writing 30 years later, historian John Lenihan concluded that while BROKEN ARROW”… is not without precedent in its sympathetic treatment of the Indian, it remains significant for having forcefully stated an ideal of tolerance and racial equality that was to become more characteristic of Westerns… [The point of the film is, after all, that no real basis exists for treating one race as inherently different from, and hence inferior to, another.” (3)
For this compact disc release, musicologist William H. Rosar provides an informed and eloquent perspective on composer Hugo Friedhofer and the talents he brought to bear on the powerful score to this film. Rosar founded The Society for the Preservation of Film Music (now the Film Music Society) and is editor of the forthcoming Journal of Film Music of the International Film Music Society, of which he is founder. Rosar frequently met and corresponded with Friedhofer during the composer’s later years. His essay reflecting that association, contained in this booklet, will, it is hoped, go far to increase the appreciation of a composer too long neglected in the pantheon of Hollywood Him composers. The wide-open sound and the fine balance of the true stereophonic mix of approximately 80 percent of this recording are due to the talents of Rick Victor, whose engineering skill and well-trained ear for the “Fox sound” make the listening experience suggest that BROKEN ARROW, released in the standard film aperture and in monaural sound, might really have been a CinemaScope stereo spectacular.
We are particularly pleased that this is the first authorized release of a major Friedhofer score utilizing the original optical studio music tracks. Thanks go to Thomas G. Cavanaugh, Vice President of Fox Music, and to Nick Redman for making this possible. Birgham Young University is the home of the Hugo Friedhofer Papers (MSS 2021), established by his daughter Karyl Gilland-Tonge. They are available for scholarly research. BROKEN ARROW is the fifth in an ongoing series of original studio music track recordings presented by the Archives, dedicated to keeping alive great original film music recordings for generations to come.
James V. D’Arc: Curator, BYU Film Music Archives November 1999
(1) Zanuck wrote a frank memo to Delmer Daves about problems with BROKEN ARROW when the director was preparing to leave for South Pacific locations to film BIRD OF PARADISE (1951). The script to PARADISE was in many ways similar to BROKEN ARROW, with Polynesians in place of Indians. It also co-starred Jeff Chandler and Debra Paget. “I don’t believe that any picture on this lot in many years has benefited by editing as much as did BROKEN ARROW. I know that I sweated night after night and I also know that we had to sacrifice a certain number of very valuable and good moments in an effort to give the picture as a whole the benefit of tempo and movement.” See. Rudy Behlmer,. Memo From Darryl F. Zanuck (New York: Grove Press. 1993), p. 186.
(2) “Arrow” Screenplay by Michael Blankfort. Temporary Script, 11 April 1949. Foreword. Twentieth Century-Fox Collection, UCLA Arts Library, Los Angeles, California.
(3) John H. Lenihan. Showdown: Confronting Modem America in the Western Film (Urbane: University of Illinois Press, 1980), pp. 58. 61. In 1950, BROKEN ARROW had company in a sympathetic portrayal of Indians in DEVILS DOORWAY, directed by Anthony Mann for M-G-M. The film was miscast with Robert Taylor as an Indian who, following service in the Civil Var, returns to Wyoming and to mistreatment try Whites.
Hugo Friedhofer: The Composer and His Music
Hugo William Friedhofer was born May 3, 1901 in San Francisco to musical parents, his father a ‘cellist, his mother a singer. A precocious youth who was gifted in art, music and poetry, his first ambition was to be a painter. He studied painting at the Mark Hopkins Institute in San Francisco and worked as a commercial artist for a lithography firm. But following the lead of his parents he abandoned a career in art and instead pursued music. He studied ‘cello with his father and then with Wilhelm Dehe. Eventually he earned his living as a cellist playing in small orchestras in San Francisco while at the same time studying composition with Domenico Brescia.
Friedhofer’s film career began in the silent era when he played ‘cello in pit orchestras for movie theaters in San Francisco, and occasionally writing pieces for the films he accompanied. He married a pianist, Elizabeth Hamilton Barrett, who bore him two daughters, Karyl and Erica. George Lipschulz, a violinist friend of his, became a music director at William Fox Studios in 1929, and urged Friedhofer to come to Hollywood. From July 1929 to August 1934 Friedhofer worked for Fox as a composer, arranger and/or an orchestrator on dozens of films, among them some of the earliest talkies. In 1933 he joined the staff of the Warner Bros, music department where he worked as an orchestrator, principally for Erich Wolfgang Korngold and Max Steiner. Moonlighting from Warner Bros., he also began a professional association with Alfred Newman, then music director for United Artists. Orchestrating and occasionally ghost writing for Newman, their association lasted through Newman’s last film, AIRPORT (1970), on which Friedhofer worked. Through Newman, Friedhofer met German composer-pedagogue, Ernst Toch, with whom he studied music theory for a time. Ever seeking greater mastery of his art and craft by expanding his musical horizons, Friedhofer attended seminars by Schoenberg. In his more cynical moments, Friedhofer confessed having a very low regard for the movie business, but in spite of that always endeavored to maintain high standards when it came to his musical craft: “My long involvement with film music was brought on by economic necessity, – certainly not a matter of aesthetic choice or conviction. My musical life has been spent in the company of nothing but the best; anything less sends me running for the barf-bag (1). While I have a low opinion of the cinema, I do have a commitment to myself as a craftsman.” (2)
In later years he studied with Nadia Boulanger and Ernest Kanitz. Friedhofer’s colleague and close friend David Raksin observed, “I think Friedhofer has a better understanding of film music than any composer I know. He is the most learned of us all, the best schooled, and often the most subtle.” (3) Others perceived Friedhofer differently, though, Heinz Roemheld, for whom Friedhofer had orchestrated at Warner Bros, in the 1930s, remembered that Friedhofer was regarded by his colleagues there as being an affected intellectual when he first sported a goatee. Hoping to rid him of this affectation, the whole music department grew goatees, but Friedhofer kept his in spite of that. (4) In later years, Friedhofer eschewed any such pretensions; “Please to remember that apart from my craft, I’m at best a semi-literate slob, – without as much as a high school diploma to ray credit.” (5) Los Angeles music critic Vernon Steele, who met Friedhofer in the 1930s, remarked, “If he had not turned his creative talents toward music, he could easily have been one of our most gifted humorists. Witticisms and epigrams roll out of him like profanity out of a sailor’s parrot.” (6)
In 1938 Friedhofer composed his first full-length, original film score for THE ADVENTURES OF MARCO POLO (conducted by Alfred Newman). By the time he scored THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES in 1946, he had worked for every major studio in Hollywood. (7) Perhaps his best-known score. THE BEST YEARS received the 1946 Academy Award for Best Score. (Given a penchant for music-food similes, Friedhofer called the score a “casserole of lamb stew.” (8)) Subsequently he was nominated for an Oscar eight more times. Among his most memorable scores are ADVENTURES OF MARCO POLO. THE LODGER, SO DARK THE NIGHT, THE BANDIT OF SHERWOOD FOREST, THE BISHOP’S WIFE, JOAN OF ARC, ABOVE AND BEYOND, ISLAND IN THE SKY, VERA CRUZ, SOLDIER OF FORTUNE, SEVEN CITIES OF GOLD. THE RAINS OF RANCHIPUR, BOY ON A DOLPHIN, AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER, THE SUN ALSO RISES. THE YOUNG LIONS, THE BARBARIAN AND THE GEISHA, IN LOVE AND WAR, THIS EARTH IS MINE, and ONE-EYED JACKS.
In 1958 Friedhofer received the Hollywood Foreign Press “Golden Globe” Award for “Bettering the standard of motion picture music by consistently fine scores over the past twenty-five years.” Friedhofer’s response to receiving the award was “Big deal!”
Early in his career in Hollywood Friedhofer was quoted as saying, “My only prayer – if I have any – is that I be kept a little dissatisfied with my work. When I come to die, I want to have the feeling that I have just scratched the surface.” (9) Hugo Friedhofer died May 17,1981 in Los Angeles, having scored or contributed music to about 200 films and television shows.
In characterizing Friedhofer’s style, Christopher Palmer and Fred Steiner observed that Friedhofer’s writing “tends to eschew effects of conventional lushness and over ripeness in favor of a muscular athleticism, lyrical in spite of its verve, but rigorously disciplined.” (10) As Friedhofer explained, “[T]he ubiquitous Hollywood schmaltz tended to give me heartburn.” (11) “I still get more fun out of the bleak, the sparse and the stark, than out of the schmaltz and goo. No cholesterol please!” (12) Stark, bleak, sparse, angular, rugged, muscular – and economical – these were all words which, with a certain pride, Friedhofer felt applied to some of his best film music. He noted that adjectives such as stark and bleak were not found in the lexicon of music criticism until the 1920s, when music critic Paul Rosenfeld used them to describe the music of Sibelius. (13) Attempting to explain his musical preferences, Friedhofer quoted a famous phrase from Emile Zola’s novel about French impressionist painters, L’oeuvre (The Masterpiece), “All is temperament.” The musical expression of bleakness, sparseness, starkness – even grimness – were thus Friedhofer’s predilection because of his temperament. With reference to the Hollywood musical scene of the 1930s, he lamented the fact that “schmaltz was in,” and because of that, he and kindred spirit David Raksin were “out.” (14) Alfred Newman used to snidely refer to Friedhofer and Raksin as the avant-garde (15) or the “kooks.” During Newman’s tenure as head of the Fox music department (1940-1960) he at first used to assign Friedhofer and Raksin all the “kooky” films to score, something which they used to their own advantage to experiment with new musical styles and techniques. (16)
Friedhofer pointed out that his proclivity for the stark, the bleak, etc., as well as the influence of Sibelius on his writing, could be found early on in music he composed for a bank robbery sequence in Fritz Lang’s crime classic. YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE (1938), a sequence, which it happens, he ghost wrote for Alfred Newman. It was not until 1944, when Friedhofer scored THE LODGER, that he was afforded an opportunity to give full expression to this musical bent. The film was about Jack the Ripper, and dispensing with the horror clichés of the day, Friedhofer’s expressionistic music for the film was quintessentially stark and moody. (17)
In addition to certain Sibelian touches, it was the first time Friedhofer also wrote in an idiom consciously influenced by Hindemith, a composer whose works one of Friedhofer’s colleagues, Alex North, denounced as being “cold and inhuman.” Ironically, Friedhofer had just the opposite response to Hindemith’s music and initially found it appealing because of the antithesis of what North said: “It was the feeling of great warmth, without the schmaltz. It’s not that it’s lacking warmth or in emotion, but it’s just not spilling all over the deck.” (18) In THE LODGER, the influence of Hindemith is immediately evident in the main title. As Friedhofer recalled, “The main title tune in that is almost straight Hindemith,” (19) that he was “playing around with these vertical sonorities and the horizontal lines.” By that Friedhofer was alluding to Hindemith’s device of having a long unharmonized line with periodic interjections of chords (as in the LODGER theme), in contrast to the traditional more-or-less continuous harmonic accompaniment of a melody. (20)
Some have also spoken loosely of the influence of Copland on Friedhofer’s music, though in reality there is no one dominant stylistic influence apparent, but rather, a synthesis of influences. For example, though TV composer-musicologist Fred Steiner made the pronouncement that the influence of Copland could be found on “every page” of THE BEST YEARS, he later argued the opposite, that THE BEST YEARS wasn’t influenced by Copland at all, but instead, that the main theme reflected the influence of Samuel Barber’s Second Essay for Orchestra (though Friedhofer himself never mentioned anything to that effect). Of the influence of Copland on THE BEST YEARS, here is what Friedhofer had to say on the matter: “I got to know Aaron quite well, and was tremendously fond of him. I like his forthrightness, his honesty, and his musical integrity. Actually, the resemblance was largely in paring… the influence largely consisted in my weeding out the run-of-the-mill Hollywood schmaltz, and trying to do a very simple, straightforward, almost folk like score. I don’t think I actually looked over Aaron’s shoulder, but there was a certain use… perhaps a certain harmonic similarity at times. But that was it.” (21)
Friedhofer later recalled that while scoring THE BEST YEARS he had been studying the harmony in Copland’s Piano Sonata, as well as freely acknowledging the influence of Copland’s musical Americana, epitomized by Appalachian Spring, Billy the Kid and Rodeo. Ironically, Copland had actually been considered by Goldwyn to score THE BEST YEARS. As it turned out, Copland quite liked Friedhofer’s score. (22) In retrospect Friedhofer commented, “You know, after hearing the [The Best Years] score again, I have to say that it isn’t all that Coplandesque.” The fact of the matter is that most of the influences on the Americana style of THE BEST YEARS were ones Friedhofer had already assimilated. For the most part the style was something he had more-or-less already synthesized by the time he scored THE BEST YEARS.
Broken Arrow: The Score
In late 1949, when Friedhofer had just finished scoring Fox’s THREE CAME HOME, he was invited to score BROKEN ARROW. Though he had already composed music for over 120 films, in addition to orchestrating as many or more by other composers, it was the first time Friedhofer scored a Western. Nonetheless, he was not without experience writing music for this film genre. While a staff composer at Fox and Paramount in the 1930s he had worked from time to time on various Westerns, as well as occasionally contributing additional music to films in the genre scored by other composers. As a film, Friedhofer thought highly of BROKEN ARROW, “To me, Broken Arrow was a very interesting picture, in that it was the first one in which the Indians were treated entirely differently. They were not the villains. Nobody in the picture said, Ugh!” or “White Man speak with forked tongue.” It was a lovely picture. It was based on a factual novel, Blood Brother, about Tom Jeffords, who was the man responsible for cooling the whole situation between the Indian and the white settlers in Arizona, through his own association with Cochise, the famous Apache chieftain. It was a thoroughly well made film.” (23)
Much of the score for Broken Arrow could be construed as a further excursion by Friedhofer into the musically stark, bleak, and sparse. At the same time it evidences another parallel development in his style, and that is Friedhofer’s own unique brand of musical Americana. Ostensibly first discernible a few years earlier in his score for THE BEST YEARS, Friedhofer’s Americana style can subsequently be heard in his scores for WILD HARVEST (1947), THREE CAME HOME (1950) and a number of films he scored after BROKEN ARROW such as TWO FLAGS WEST (1950), ABOVE AND BEYOND (1952), ISLAND IN THE SKY (1953), IN LOVE AND WAR (1958), and ONE-EYED JACKS (1960).
In addition to the influence of Copland on BROKEN ARROW, and though assimilated, at times one can also discern the influence of Hindemith (as noted), Ernest Bloch, Debussy, Ravel, Gershwin, and even Max Steiner, all composers whose music had influenced Friedhofer at earlier stages of his musical development. Overall there is a certain spare, rugged quality to much of the music – the very musicodramatic qualities that appealed to Friedhofer. As Friedhofer said, “Personally I am influenced by that ugly little word known as “mood” – and by mood, I mean actually lighting, camera angles, the pace in which the picture moves, the overall feel of the picture.” (24)
Because BROKEN ARROW departed from the typical Hollywood “Cowboys and Indians” film with its sympathetic treatment of the Apaches, it called for a corresponding departure from the musical clichés and stereotypes of the genre, the typical “Cowboy and Indian” music which had been heard in Westerns since the days of silent films. And yet Friedhofer was not so much an iconoclast to reject outright Hollywood musical tradition but was more apt to use it in a new and fresh way. The musicodramatic reasons for utilizing such musical conventions were not just because composers lacked originality, and couldn’t think of anything else to write. Dimitri Tiomkin, himself having scored numerous westerns, wrote about the use of such musical conventions the year after BROKEN ARROW was released: “Audiences have been conditioned to associate certain musical styles with certain backgrounds and peoples, regardless of whether the music is actually authentic. For instance, all audiences think a certain steady beat of tom-tom or tympani drum, and a high, wailing wind instrument performing in a simple four or five-note scale, connotes one thing: Indians… In the past some composer freely adapted some possibly authentic Indian song, changed and altered it, and came up with the tom-tom effect we know. This “conditioned reflex” music, of course, is wholly arbitrary, but it is so effective that sometimes its use is compulsory.” (25)
Inasmuch as much of the drama focuses on the Indians, Friedhofer’s musical treatment of them had to be more variegated, and accordingly resulted in deviating considerably from the musical stereotypes associated with American Indians. Rather than a single Indian theme then, Friedhofer wrote four Indian themes, as well as several incidental pieces related to Indian ceremonies and rituals in the story. Each Indian theme has its own unique character and dramatic function in the score.
In the discussion which follows of the individual musical sequences which comprise the score (the “cues”), the titles are from Friedhofer’s musical manuscript (sketches), except for those marked with an asterisk, where the theme titles were used because the sketch for the sequences had no title. Theme titles given in parentheses refer to the description of the film action preceding them.
1. Twentieth Century Fox Trade Mark (0:12) (Alfred Newman)
2. Main Title (1:07) The main title begins with a big statement of the “Cochise” theme followed by “The Treaty.” In a sense, the main title musically represents the dramatic conflict; war and peace – war, represented by the Indian warrior “Cochise” theme, and peace represented by the “Treaty” theme. The exclamatory statement of “Cochise” is similar in design to the Hindemithian theme of THE LODGER: A linear (melodic) musical idea punctuated with chords, rather than accompanied by them. In terms of dramatic effect, it is an interesting coincidence that the theme for THE LODGER, which Friedhofer characterized as being “stark and strong” (26) was for a brutal serial killer, and is similar in design to his theme for the Apache warrior chief, who was also capable of being a brutal killer, though in the name of war against the White Man, Thus the similar musical design has a similar corresponding dramatic quaUty as well: strong and stark,
3. Narration and Opening (1:29) The opening narration, where Tom Jeffords tells his story, is accompanied by a lonely clarinet melody over a sparse string accompaniment, as we first see Jeffords alone, ambling on horseback across the Arizona desert (“Tom’s Narrative”). The music becomes agitated as he spies buzzards circling overhead (“Buzzards”), Jeffords soon discovers that the buzzards are following a badly wounded Apache boy. With a menacing statement of the “Cochise” theme (sonorities reminiscent of the airplane “graveyard” cue in THE BEST YEARS), the music underscores the presence of the Apache threat and Jeffords’ words, “His kind was more dangerous than a snake.” The boy collapses and Jeffords gives him water, but the Indian boy pulls his knife on him, and Jeffords has to subdue him.
4. Good Samaritan (2:14) Jeffords treats the Apache boy’s wounds by firelight. The boy soon recovers while Jeffords pans for gold. The boy explains to Jeffords that he is a novice, and that when Jeffords found him he was undergoing his initiation into manhood. He fears that his parents despair for his life and might think him dead. Because of this, Jeffords comes to realize that the Apaches are not wild animals after all, but human beings with loved ones, just like White people. (“Apache Theme No.1”) The Apache boy asks Jeffords, “Do you pray to killer of enemies?” (“The Treaty”). The use of “The Treaty” in this scene suggests that Friedhofer’s musical conception was that of a hymn, a prayer for peace between the Indians and the White Man.
5. Ambush (0:41) Other arrows hit the tree where Jeffords and the Apache boy stand frozen as a group of Apache scouts appear on their horses. The boy asks that they not harm Jeffords, for he has healed his wounds. The Apaches tell Jeffords that in return for his kindness to the hoy, they will spare his life this time, but not again (“Cochise”). As the Apaches take their leave, a party of miners on horseback appear and the Apaches swiftly bind and gag Jeffords, and then immediately descend on the miners, killing most of them with their bows and taking a few prisoner. Originally this cue was longer, containing the first statement of a theme called “Tucson.” From this context, the theme would really seem to have no connection with Tucson per se, but with the prospectors, inasmuch as Tucson has not yet been seen or even mentioned. In character the theme is typical of pentatonic Anglo-Irish cowboy songs heard in countless Westerns before and after BROKEN ARROW.
6. Torture and Return to Tucson (1:14) The prisoners are tortured by the Apaches and their horrific ordeal is reflected in the strident sonorities of the music more than it is shown on the screen. The Apaches admonish Jeffords, who is forced to watch the torture, that this is what will happen to White Men who encroach on Apache territory (“Cochise”). The cue ends as Jeffords rides into Tucson (“Tucson”).
7. Smoke Signal (1:28) Juan shows Jeffords how to send smoke signals, but warns him that he will likely be killed if he tries to enter Cochise’s camp to see him (“Cochise”).
8. Tucson and Cochise* (3:46) For unknown reasons the music accompanying Jeffords’ long perilous trek to Cochise’s camp was written by Alfred Newman, based on Friedhofer’s themes. Ironically, it is one of the best cues in the score, as if Newman sought to match the standards of excellence in the balance of the score. Beginning with the “Tucson” theme, the music segues from the previous cue (“Smoke Signal”) and culminates with a highly dramatic reprise of the beginning of the main title statement of “Cochise”.
9. White Painted Lady (2:17) For the first time Jeffords meets the Indian maiden Sonseeahray in a tent where as “White Painted Lady,” or “Mother of Life,” she is performing a healing ritual. She tells Jeffords that his old war wound will never hurt him again and foretells that his life will be a long and good one. From Cochise Jeffords learns that her name means “Morning Star.” Heard over an ostinato of muffled Indian drums, and based on “Apache Theme No.1,” the music has a meditative quality reflecting the ceremonial setting.
10. Accidental Meeting (2:04) Forbidden by Apache custom to meet, Jeffords arranges to encounter Sonseeahray while she is gathering berries, Jeffords confesses that he is drawn to her and will miss her when he leaves. The music begins with a simple pentatonic flute melody. In character it is really another Indian theme, though gentle in mood (“Arizona Pastoral”). It is followed by the “Sonseeahray” theme, which is also pentatonic, segueing into the meditative “Apache Theme No.1.” The tranquility of the mood is interrupted by a stark statement of “Cochise” who appears unexpectedly, having come to tell Jeffords that he has decided to let the mail riders pass through Apache territory. This is the first time Cochise is seen while his theme is heard. The cue concludes with some hymn-like harmonies similar in character to “The Treaty.”
11. Mail Montage (2:47) A man volunteers to ride with the mail from Tucson. He returns safely and unharmed, evidence that Cochise has made good on his word to let the mail go through. Based on the “Tucson” theme, the cue is marked allegro e vigoroso (fast and vigorous) and “Rugged!” on Friedhofer’s manuscript. This gives a pretty good idea of the sort of writing he associated with one of the words noted above as being indicative of his musical “temperament.” The mail delivery music recalls some of the syncopated jazzy rhythms in Friedhofer’s music for the memorable homecoming scene in THE BEST YEARS. The music is also a marked departure from the gallop rhythm traditionally used by film composers for scenes of horses riding in Westerns. An almost piercing (no pun intended) variation of the “Cochise” theme is heard as we see Cochise and his warriors lying in wait to attack the wagon train. A big, glowering minor chord is sounded in the brass as the Apaches shoot the first arrow. The chord is repeated several times, which renders the mood of the attack as tragic and grim as it is exciting, a vivid reminder that peace is not yet at hand. As it turns out, Colonel Bernal is one of the casualties of the battle, as is the Apache boy whose life Jeffords had saved (“The Attack”).
12. After Battle (1:21) Marked allegro barbaro (fast and barbaric), the first part of the music (omitted in the film) accompanied the last action of the attack on the wagon train. Here it begins as we see the aftermath, the ground strewn with the dead and wounded (“The Battlefield”). High-pitched string clusters above pulsating celli and woodwind chords impart a feeling of disorientation. The music is a mini tone painting of heat, dust, and desolation, imparting an almost grizzly quality otherwise lacking in this scene of devastation. Hauntingly we hear a reference to the “Cochise” theme, almost as a echo.
13. Tom Proposes (2:22) Jeffords returns to the Apache stronghold in hopes of persuading Cochise to meet with General Howard to discuss a peace treaty. Musically announcing that Jeffords is back in Apache country, we hear the “Cochise” theme. He receives a warm welcome by one of the Apache women. Sonseeahray’s theme is heard as she appears among the women. When Jeffords meets up with her by a pond there is a reprise of the same medley of themes first heard in “Accidental Meeting,” only here rather than being interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Cochise, it resolves with an idyllic ending as Jeffords and Sonseeahray embrace.
14. Warriors Return (1:31) The Apache women light camp fires as the war party returns from the attack on the wagon train. Some of the warriors boast of their victory and the spoils of war. The music begins with an ostinato rhythm over which a new, second “Apache theme” is stated; as we hear the words “Here they come and he [Cochise] rides before them” (“Apache Theme No.2”). The music is a slow processional, perhaps the Indian equivalent of a victory parade march (with touches of Ravel’s Bolero in the use of the ostinato and its harmonic texture).
15. In the Woods (0:34) A passionate statement of the “Sonseeahray” theme is heard when she and Jeffords embrace in the woods after participating in an Apache ceremonial dance. Cochise appears and admonishes them, telling Jeffords that Sonseeahray is already spoken for by Nahilzay. Jeffords tells Cochise that his intentions are honorable and that he wants Sonseeahray for his wife. Cochise does not approve, but agrees to speak to her parents in Jeffords’ behalf (“Sonseeahray”).
16. Tom and Cochise (1:42) We hear a variation of the theme now associated with Jeffords (“Tucson”) as he waits anxiously in his wickiup to learn if Sonseeahray’s parents will sanction their marriage. Cochise brings the good news that they will, and that the wedding will be at the next full moon. Cochise asks that Jeffords bring General Howard to the camp to discuss a treaty as we hear a statement of “The Treaty.”
17. Cochise and Nahilzay (1:44) The jealous Nahilzay attacks Jeffords while he sleeps, but Jeffords overcomes him. Cochise arrives and condemns Nahilzay for attacking someone who has been given safety by their people. Cochise assures Jeffords that this hostile act has no bearing on his commitment to peace (“Justice”). With uncompromising judgment Cochise escorts Nahilzay out and with one shot from his rifle, puts him to death for his crime (“Cochise”). The solemn music which accompanies this scene is another exercise in the stark and bleak, on Friedhofer’s part. In this instance the starkness of the music may derive from yet another source, the block-like sonorities of fourths and fifths over a rhythmically offset bass line heard in Debussy’s “Engulfed Cathedral.” Friedhofer’s statement of “Cochise” however, brings to mind Steiner’s KING KONG.
18. Return and Peace Conference (2:32) Jeffords returns to the camp with General Howard to talk peace (“The Treaty”). Sonseeahray tells Jeffords about wedding preparations (“Sonseeahray,” “Apache Theme No.1”). There follows a reprise of the “processional” music heard in “Warriors Return” (“Apache Theme No.2”).
19. Armistice (2:09) Cochise agrees to a three-month armistice to test the peace. A reprise of “Mail Montage” is heard as mail riders continue to ride through Apache territory in safety.
20. Primitive Ritual and The Lovers * (2:49) Jeffords and Sonseeahray take their Indian wedding vows. On white horses they go to their wedding wickiup, Lawrence Morton singled out this sequence for praise, as epitomizing Friedhofer’s art and craft: “[The] wedding music… is a three-part piece of the greatest simplicity. It begins with an English horn solo, in which the warmth of the tone color is somewhat attenuated by the austerity of the melody. The middle section is a duet for flutes, and here the coolness of the flute tone is complemented by a more florid melodic line. The horn solo is repeated. The accompaniment of the whole piece is nothing more than a widely spaced kettle-drum beat with a harp to reinforce the tonality and a bass drum to emphasize the percussiveness. The whole is rather archaic in style, perfectly descriptive of the scene it accompanies, and at the same time interpretive of the poetic and religious significance of the ritual.” (“Primitive Ritual”).” (27)
The wedding music segues into the first statement of the film’s love theme, based on the pentatonic scale (“The Lovers”). Although perhaps only a coincidence, utilizing as it does a five-note scale, the first five notes of the theme can be found in Debussy’s “Engulfed Cathedral,” a probable influence earlier in the score as noted. Loathing the perennial desire for “title songs” in Hollywood films, Friedhofer quipped: “I’ve always insisted that my score for BROKEN ARROW should have had a love theme with the lyrics, ‘You led me from the straight and narrow, but you brokemy heart when you broke my arrow’” (28)
21. Tucson & The Lovers * (1:44) Sonseeahray approaches Jeffords, who is resting by a stream (“Tucson”). They talk of a happy future together as we hear a lush statement of the love theme featuring a ‘cello solo by Fox orchestra ‘cellist, Kolya Levien (“The Lovers”).
22. Death of Sonseeahray (2:32) Jeffords tells Cochise and his men to flee as they are ambushed by some White Men. Jeffords is shot down and Sonseeahray is also shot defending him. Cochise and his men hunt down the Whites and kill most of them. Marked “slow – tragic” the music begins as we see Jeffords coming to and calling out Sonseeahray’s name, her limp body draped over him, Jeffords realizes in dazed disbelief that his wife is dead (“Death”). There is a harsh, strident statement of “Cochise” as the chief and his men return on their horses to Jeffords aid. What follows is music of great poignancy and depth of feeling: A hymn-like passage, marked solemn, is intoned as Cochise dismounts from his horse beside Jeffords who is clutching the lifeless Soneeahray in his arms. The music intensifies as Friedhofer interpolates into the hymn a tortured variation of “The Lovers” as Jeffords cries, “There are some things a man cannot bear!” Attempting to capture something of Jeffords’ pain and grief in the music was what Friedhofer referred to as “psychological Mickey Mousing.” He gave as an example asking himself the question, “What does it feel like to hang on the end of rope?” and then how to express that experience in music. (29) Hymn-like passages such as this one – a variety of religioso – are like a motif all throughout Friedhofer’s scores. The musical device can be found as early as in THE LODGER, and JOAN OF ARC and later, especially in his score for EDGE OF DOOM, composed only months after BROKEN ARROW. It is perhaps most familiar to listeners in the opening solenelle (solemn) in his score for THE SUN ALSO RISES. The heavy emotion of the hymn-like passage subsides as Cochise tells his friend Jeffords that he must bear the loss of his wife, and that it must not jeopardize the peace (“The Treaty”).
23. End Title – Revised * (0:49)
23. End Title (two takes) (1:34) General Howard tells Jeffords that the death of Sonseeahray has brought the Apaches and White People together in a will for peace, something equally, if not more, important than any treaty. Jeffords rides off towards the mountains knowing that his sacrifice would make for a lasting peace (“The Lovers,” “Cochise”). The end title music heard in the film is not what Friedhofer composed but is instead an arrangement by Powell which really constitutes a whole new setting of the two themes Friedhofer had used in his own end title, “The Lovers” and “Cochise.” Powell’s arrangement is much more romantic-sounding and uplifting than Friedhofer’s, which is in a decidedly more tragic vein, and provides a powerful but starker ending. Presumably the alternate end title was arranged because the “front office” at Fox wanted a more upbeat, happy-sounding ending.
In spite of his end title being replaced, and one cue being written by Alfred Newman, Friedhofer said, “I loved the film, and… it was a thoroughly enjoyable job.” (30) To get a better sense of the contribution to the drama made by Friedhofer’s score, the reader is invited to watch the scenes containing music without sound, and then again with his music. The difference is striking. Though the music for BROKEN ARROW is arguably one of Friedhofer’s finest achievements, his score for WHITE FEATHER (Fox, 1955) was his favorite “Indian” score, even though it reused the music from BROKEN ARROW. (31) Friedhofer remarked, “[I]t sounded entirely different on the wide screen.” (32) And it is interesting to note that the main theme of GERONIMO (1962) can be seen as development of the figure which concludes the end title of BROKEN ARROW, and that a long hymn-like prologue before the main title of GERONIMO harks back to the hymn-like passage marked “solemn” in “Death of Sonseeahray.”
William H. Rosar
1. Hugo Friedhofer, Letter to the author, October 12, 1976.
2. Hugo Friedhofer, Letter to the author. November 14, 1975.
3. Anthony Thomas, “Hugo Friedhofer,” Films in Review, Vol. 16, No. 8 (October 1965), p. 496.
4. Heinz Roemheld, Personal interview with the author, November 15,1968.
5. Hugo Friedhofer, Letter to the author, May 28, 1975.
6. Vernon Steele, “Hugo Friedhofer,” Pacific Coast Musician. May 1, 1937, p. 10.
7. Christopher Palmer and Fred Steiner, “Hugo (William) Friedhofer.”, The New Grove Dictionary of American Music. Edited by H. Wiley Hitchcock and Stanley Sadie. Vol. 2, p. 169f
8. Hugo Friedhofer. Letter to the author, April 3, 1975.
9. Vernon Steele, “Hugo Friedhofer,” Pacific Coast Musician. May 1, 1937, p. 10.
10. Christopher Palmer and Fred Steiner, loc. cit.
11. Hugo Friedhofer. Letter to the author, October 12, 1976.
12. Hugo Friedhofer, Letter to the author, November 28, 1976.
13. Hugo Friedhofer Telephone interview with the author, February 9,1978. Cf. Paul Rosenfeld. “Sibelius.” in (Musical Portraits: Interpretations of Twenty Modern Composers (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., Ltd., 1922).
14. Hugo Friedhofer, Telephone interview with the author January 2, 1978.
16. Hugo Friedhofer, Telephone interview with the author, June 4, 1977.
17. Hugo Friedhofer, Personal interview with the author, January 22, 1977.
18. Hugo Friedhofer, Personal interview with the author, July 8, 1975.
19. Hugo Friedhofer, Personal interview with the author, July 8, 1975.
21. Irene Kahn Atkins, An American Film Institute/Louis B. Mayer Foundation Oral History. Hugo Friedhofer, 1974, p. 158.
22. Hugo Friedhofer, Personal interview with the author, February 19, 1978.
23. Atkins, loc. Cit., pp. 288-289.
24. Earle Hagen, Scoring for Films, (New York: E. D. J. Music, 1971), p. 163
25. Dimitri Tiomkin, “Composing for Films.” Films in Review, Vol. 2, No. 9 (November, 1951), p. 21.
26. Hugo Friedhofer, Personal interview with the author, October 9, 1975.
27. Lawrence Morton, “Film Music Profile: Hugo Friedhofer,” Film Music Notes, Vol. 10, No. 1 (1950), p, 4f.
28. Gene Lees, “Hugo Friedhofer; Scores as Dean of Movie Composers,” Los Angeles Times, March 30, 1975, Calendar section, p.24.
29. Hugo Friedhofer. Telephone interview with the author, May 14, 1977.
30. Atkins, loc. cit., p. 289.
31. Hugo Friedhofer, Telephone interview with the author, October 24. 1977.
32. Atkins, loc. cit., p. 145.
33. Hugo Friedhofer, Telephone interview with the author, February 19, 1977.
34. Hugo Friedhofer, Letter to the author, November 16, 1976.
35. Hugo Friedhofer, Letter to the author, December 7, 1976.
Republished online with permission from BYU Film Music Archive © 1999
Special thanks to James V. D’Arc, Curator and William H. Rosar
Motion Picture artwork and photos © Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation