A sprawling epic if there ever was one, Giant is about two generations of a family of cattle ranchers in Texas, led by patriarch Jordan Benedict (Rock Hudson). Benedict travels to Maryland to buy a horse and winds up with Leslie Lynnton (Elizabeth Taylor), whom he takes home to raise a family with.

Back at the ranch, tension sets in between Benedict’s sister Luz (Mercedes McCambridge) and Leslie; the former feels threatened by the sudden new female presence in the home. Headstrong and full of vigor, Luz is the polar opposite of Leslie. (One neighbor remarks that Luz would rather herd cattle than make love; hmm, an early reference to lesbianism? Maybe, and her name might have been a clumsy clue as well…)

There’s other tension, too, as Leslie doesn’t quite comprehend why certain people (read: Mexican-Americans) are treated so shabbily by the Texans. The issue even threatens to drive a wedge between her and Benedict, and she even returns home (with their three kids, by this point), but Benedict’s able to get her to return. This turns into one of the central themes of Giant, the idea that the manly men of Texas are the only real men out there, and that everyone else – especially anyone from a different country or of a different ethnic background – is well below them in the pecking order.

James Dean, in his final film (he died late during filming), plays a ranch hand turned millionaire with the unlikely name of Jett Rink. Benedict openly dislikes Jett from the git-go and REALLY loathes him when the latter strikes oil on his tiny plot of land and strikes it rich, his wealth soon rivaling (or surpassing) that of Benedicts. Yes, it’s another penis-swinging movie, wherein the two leads try to show the other who is, indeed, The Man. Rink is unsteady, an outcast by nearly everyone else in the film, although it’s Leslie who befriends him shortly before he strikes oil.

Leslie is the one character for whom the audience can root, because she’s basically flawless. She’s the moral compass for the other characters in the film. She rarely raises her voice, but her views are strong. Heck, they’re strong right from the moment she meets Benedict in Maryland, as she somewhat unconsciously derides his prideful state. Leslie is a rarity among Texas women, because she’s an independent thinker (or so the movie instructs us), so naturally her stiff upper lip runs counter to what’s expected of ladies in Texas society.

But all of those tensions are only about half of the story, as the kids of Benedict and Leslie grow and mature and have spouses and kids of their own, and rarely do those choices follow what their father intended. Jordy Benedict, played by a fresh-faced Dennis Hopper, decides not to take over the family ranch and to instead become a doctor; he also marries a Mexican girl, leading to even more tension. And Luz Benedict, named after Jordan Benedict’s sister, falls in love with her dad’s chief rival, Rink. Late in the movie, the specter of racism rears its head, as Jordy’s wife is denied service on the grounds that she’s a “wetback.” Incensed, Jordy takes matters into his own hands, but his pop’s there to help him out.

The film itself is beautiful, with breathtaking shots of the Texas landscape that’ll leave the city folks in the audience pining for wide-open spaces. Without question, the movie should be seen on a big screen, but since it was made in 1956 it’s not terribly likely to show up at any theaters in the near future – watch for revivals or festivals and see it how it was intended.

On the littler screen, leaving aside the size issue entirely, the main problem I have with the film is that it’s a bit dated. Sure, I know there’s still a lot of racial inequality and tension in the world, but I don’t think you’ll hear the word “wetback” bandied about often, and even the way men and women view each other, in terms of respect (even in Texas, yee-ha!), has evolved quite a bit.

Even if one views the movie as a microcosm of 1950s Texas, it’s just not entertaining enough. There’s melodrama, there’s people acting rather predictably, and in the end everyone grows a little. It’s all a little too pat, these lessons of racism and sexism and so forth. Benedict’s such a horse’s ass at the beginning that you openly hope for his death or dismemberment just so he could get some sense knocked into him.

As for the cast, Taylor is magnificent – my GOODNESS, was she well cast! She looks ravishing, with gorgeous wide eyes and a stare that’ll freeze her kidlets from fifty yards. She’s commanding and beautiful. I haven’t seen much of La Liz in her early days, but she’s so fantastic here, I should make it a point to see some others. Hudson and Dean are both okay, although Dean’s Rink is relegated to mumbling and shuffling most of the time and Hudson’s Benedict is stuck with being either a mope or a tyrant. Neither character was particularly appealing, but I never really felt much sympathy toward either, especially for Benedict (although perhaps a little near the end).

In smaller, supporting roles, Hopper is delightful, as is Chill Wills as loyal Uncle Bawley and Carroll Baker (in the same year she did Baby Doll) as Luz Baker II, radiant and luscious and just as independent as her onscreen mom, Taylor.

In all, I found Giant to be a bit of a bore, sad to say, despite Taylor and some great camera work. Watching Giant, despite its length, is sort of like buying a fast-food hamburger; it looks pretty when you see it on the menu, but after you’ve eaten it you still feel kind of empty.

**1/2

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