Montgomery Clift was one of the greatest actors of all time, changed culture by beginning the sensitive portrayal of men from a deep emotional center—that was the birth in many ways, or greatest influence on icons such as Marlon Brando and James Dean, and the rebel beatnik- then hippie-then sensitive men—of generations to come. In all his roles he’s great, and he also is a great tragic hero, but in the beginning, he was just magnificent. This is a head shot from Red River, the amazing western starring John Wayne and directed by the canonical John Ford. Patriarch Wayne heads out to Texas to conquer some land and cattle, he picks up a lone kid whose folks got murdered by Indigenous people, and both the kid’s calf and the character that grows into Monty Clift join Wayne’s homosocial cowboy family.

But scion is much different than big dad, and his sensitive portrayal of the college- educated cowboy that comes back to help his father with the last big cattle migration to save the farm is an affable and smart guy, who enjoys comparing pistols with other cowboys, and chooses words over bullets, love over fighting. Like other queer actors I’ve painted, Clift was a hero to me as a young man, as he was gentlemanly and intelligent, a “good guy” who always tried his best as an actor and a person—but also in his roles was usually othered—sometimes as contemptuous villains hiding behind handsome masks, but most often as misunderstood good guys. I first knew his name from the Clash song “The Right Profile” and got to be friendly with his biographer Patricia Bosworth before she died.

Although his life was a tragedy, it wasn’t as bad it has been characterized, as the documentary made by his nephew testifies. He was largely misunderstood, and after his infamous car crash, he had to perform through a broken face (maybe intuited here), it was all in the eyes and the eyebrows, and the vocal inflections. Despite his excesses, Monty also lived a very un-secret gay life, and never seemed ashamed for who he was. He remained a great actor all his life, one of his last scenes as an actor in Judgment at Nuremberg sequence, although twelve minutes long, is devastating. In his role in Red River, he makes up with his surrogate father in the end, instead of fighting, they roll around together, laughing. It’s in this spirit, that of the elegant, proud, and peaceful queer that I wanted to capture him. I’m from Colorado, and far from being a cowboy, can two-step to the awesome jingle brought on by the spurs of his gay cowboy vibe.