One might say that Kevin Costner is an improved Nicholas Cage, a more palatable version that is squarely handsome and less unhinged. But they suffer the same chronic condition; they are stuck in beta male bodies, agonized by the deep-seated desire to become the ultimate alpha male (very relatable to the rest of their beta-male demographic). So once a man like Kevin Costner gets his soft, beta hands on a project in which he has full control, those masculine desires can finally percolate and boil over — hence, Dances with Wolves. In this epic, slow-moving film, Kevin Costner plays the born-again Lieutenant Dunbar, who leaves the bloody battlefields of the Civil War, dusting his hands off in preference of the supposedly pristine and purifying land of the frontier. There, he and a Sioux Native American tribe meet each other. Attracted to the simplicity of their lives — and ironically, the white woman who has been raised by the tribe, Dunbar leaves his life behind to join them, even receiving the honorary, Sioux name of “Dances with Wolves.” Dunbar’s short-lived bliss is interrupted when conflicts with bloodthirsty Pawnee Indians and unsympathetic Union soldiers begin.

Dances with Wolves, as an aspiring, revisionist film, attempts to make amends for the hundreds of racist and philosophically myopic Westerns that came before it by portraying Native Americans sympathetically; ultimately, however, it falls short of these noble objectives because it is an inflated vanity project for Kevin Costner’s cowboy heroism.

Sections:

1. Production
2. Shot Composition
3. Foil Characters
4. Refute and Conclusion

Production

This film was a beast to produce. It started out as a story written by Michael Blake, but discovered by Kevin Costner, who both reasoned that a book would generate more studio interest than a cold script. Still, nobody wanted to publish it. After over 30 rejections, Fawcett, a small publisher decided to take it; so then, naturally, it became a film nobody wanted to finance either. Desperate, Costner looked abroad for help, securing loans from a handful of foreign investors, and finally convincing Orion Studios to step in with $10 million. He did “put his reputation on the line,” adding $3 million of his own money to the waning budget of $15 million due to the struggles with film production: thirty locations, two temperamental wolves, and a scene requiring 3500 buffalo. Hollywood insiders smelled blood and dubbed it as “Costner’s Last Stand” — a risky bet likely to flop.

Originally, Costner sought out other prominent directors, but each wanted to cut parts he “considered crucial” as he said in an interview with Tim Ferriss. So inevitably, he took on the job himself — finally achieving his long-awaited auteur status. And because he was producer, director, and star, his personality and ego shamelessly reveals itself in this text. The

Shot Composition

Low-Angle Shot

Each time Costner’s character, Lieutenant Dunbar, rides in, a low-angle shot lifts him up to look powerful and authoritative. Costner’s constant use of this filmic device shows his perspective of self.

Example 1:

In the opening Civil War sequence, another soldier lies below Dunbar, explaining the severity of their situation — outnumbered by their opponents and no more reinforcements coming. The shot bounces back and forth between Dunbar’s point of view (looking down at the hysteric soldier lying beneath) and the soldier’s point of view (looking up at the towering Dunbar).

Example 2:

On his horse, Dunbar rides towards and passes by his guide’s wagon. Positioned behind the spoke of the wagon’s wheel, the camera seems as if it is cowering in his presence. Then as he nears, it slowly tilts higher and higher, careening its neck back to keep him in the shot. This, paired with the epic backdrops of the South Dakota countryside, depicts Costner’s Dunbar as a some mystical manifestation of manliness and authority.

Shallow Focus

Another filmic technique used in Dances with Wolves to display Dunbar’s dominance — and ultimately Costner’s self-interest — is the use of shallow and deep focus. No matter where he is in the shot, Dunbar must be in focus, even if it means blurring out other characters around him, emphasizing further — to the viewer — the inflated importance of Dunbar/Costner and his actions.

Example 1:

Timmons, Dunbar’s guide, warns him of the dangers ahead, chowing down a mouthful of potatoes. But puzzlingly, even though Timmons is the one talking for the majority of the scene, Costner uses shallow focus and only Dunbar’s face is in focus while the camera blurs that of Timmons’.

Foil Characters

Foil — a filmic term that comes from the practice of backing gems with a metal foil to make them shine brighter

Every white male Dunbar encounters in the film (besides his fellow soldiers) represents the ugly, unrealized side of old westerns — racist, often drunk, and quick-tempered, similar to John Wayne’s character in The Searchers. Dunbar, however, differs strikingly as he is calm and contemplative; a classic man who enjoys sketching, solidarity, and even stargazing. As he makes his way to the frontier, these boorish men die in his wake (either by killing themselves out of sheer shame or by being killed as a sort of comeuppance for their immorality), which might be Costner’s intention to effectively mark the death of the racist Westerns of the past.

Example 1: Major Fambrough

First, Dunbar comes across Major Fambrough, an inebriated kook, who burps at and insults Dunbar’s sincerity in his wishes to see the frontier “before it’s gone.” Fambrough, amused by this, assigns him to a far-removed fort for Dunbar alone; and as Dunbar turns to leave, Fambrough candidly adds the tawdry line, “I’ve just pissed in my pants, and nobody can do anything about it.” Disgusted and ready to go, Dunbar finally leaves. Fambrough toasts through the window to their respective journeys and kills himself — removing the last living military official to know Dunbar’s exact destination.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AUHQugyxqAc

Watch segments 2:10–3:30 and 4:40–4:51.

Example 2: Timmons

Second, and directly after, is Timmons. Along their journey, he remarks that Native Americans are “nothing but thieves and beggars;” Dunbar sighes. Timmons coughs, spits, and makes noise after noise while Dunbar sits there patiently writing in his journal. Then, an awkward, obviously non-diegetic flatulence later, we, the viewers, realize Costner surrounded himself with clowns.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gEy-3cc6OIU

Watch the whole clip

Refute

Admittedly, Kevin Costner’s Dances with Wolves hits home. It does its best to be revisionist and dispel the racist tropes of its genre. When it first released, audiences were absorbed by the details of the Sioux Indians, and it wound up a big box office success, garnering 424.2 million dollars, making it the highest-grossing Western of all time. Yet, nevertheless, Kevin Costner’s self-centered role as the Native Americans’ “white savior” and his glorified Western personality overshadows what is supposed to be a heartfelt homage/apology to the Native Americans. Instead and accidentally, it reinforces many of the poisonous ideals of the detached, nomadic American Adam, one who longs for the frontier far from the measly and minor tasks required of him in his suburban home.

Conclusion

In the end, Dances with Wolves succeeded to win the heart of the masses, but failed to impress the petty critic, as the filmic text is a thin veil covering Kevin Costner’s vanity. This is clear because of the following: him assuming the role of director and auteur over disagreements, with the candidate directors, in vision — of which seem to have almost been predetermined; the shot composition which Dunbar/Costner as superior to those around him; and, the contrast between him and the other blatantly racist and unseemly foil characters. According to the auteur theory, these methods of aggrandizing one’s character directly relates to Costner’s personality. Because he “is more to be considered the ‘author’ of the movie than is the writer of the screenplay,” all those that worked alongside Costner were swallowed up in his fame, as he gave himself every advantage and chance to venerate himself.

And though his character, Lieutenant Dunbar, has more dimensions than the average “John Wayne”, deep down, the same, subconscious appetite in all beta males to metamorphose into the alpha male reveals itself and bares its teeth — still frustrated by its eternal baby cheeks — in the character Dunbar/Costner. It takes true humility and self-awareness to combat these desires; it is almost as if they are reflexive. But if they are, these questions ought to be posed. If Dances with Wolves was another one’s own piece, and they are the auteur, would they avoid propping themself up on a pedestal? Or make themself the open-minded “white savior” the Native Americans as well? Would they give themself an attractive, white love interest and surround themselves with buffoonish bores too? Or would they worry less about movie conventions and focus on the intended message? With these questions all in mind, this may be the most important question to ask: would Dances with Wolves have succeeded — as well as it did — if it abandoned many of its cliche filmic tropes and if it were not for Kevin Costner’s vanity?