I was almost seven years old. My paternal Nana took me to see this movie in the Chicago Loop in 1952. White Mane was a short film accompanying the latest version of Heidi which she wanted me to see on account of my Gramps being of Switzerdietsch extraction and all. Aside from a vague recollection of poor Heidi stashing hard-rolls up in her closet, I don't remember the movie in any detail. I guess it was pretty, ya, mit edelweiss and everything. White Mane, on the other hand, left a lasting impression on me as a kid: self-sacrifice for love of another being. The realization that the consequences of some actions could result in DEATH. A new concept of DEATH for a seven-year-old. Greed can result in death...and so forth. In short, the ending of the movie (SPOILER COMING NOW) where the kid rides his beloved White Mane into the Mediterranean to avoid capture by his pursuers (c.f., Masada, etc.) freaked me out. But in a good way, and with a lesson. Sort of like Invaders from Mars taught me to distrust the military and by extension the government, and The Night of the Hunter taught me to be wary of anyone calling himself "Preacher," and Lolita taught me to distrust anyone with two last names! And Psycho taught me never to bathe....I guess I'll have to watch White Mane again to see if I remembered any of it right.
Review of White Mane
