Héctor Germán Oesterheld's Swipe File - Coda

From left to right: Philadelphia Thursday (Shirley Temple), Emily Colingwood (Anna Lee), Mary O'Rourke (Irene Rich) in Fort Apache (1948) by John Ford (director), Archie Stout and William H. Clothier (cinematography).

That, up there, is an image with a meaning. It proves that the often posed question, "is film a literary or a visual form?" makes no sense. Ditto for comics.

To contextualize: the men went to war leaving the women behind suffering in silence, and waiting... The minimalist set (clouds in the morning sky) and the low angle shot give the scene an epic, mythical tone. I'm tempted to say, as it was said of Ernst Lubitsch, that this, right here, is John Ford's poetic touch. 

"Poetic" is a literary term, so, am I being abusive applying it to an image? Maybe I am, but then, to avoid cathacresis, what word do you suggest to convey what I mean? Maybe there's none and that's why I'm using the above one, but then, didn't Horace say "ut pictura poesis"? Lessing denied it, but I'm a firm believer in the former's opinion, not the latter's...

And, that, in a nutshell, is why the question "is film a literary or a visual form?" (and what about sound?) makes no sense. Because, you see, we shouldn't judge an image by its surface alone. Technical skill is important, but it is far from being the most important part of an image's judgement.
What I'm saying is that I don't get comics exceptionalism or the annoying habit comics fans have to laud eye candy (if there's such a thing; every image has a content of some sort...) while considering that any idea behind a comic is a literary judgement. Are images just fun and superficial while words are serious and profound? Is the visual artist just a machine, showing instead of telling? Bête comme un peintre?...
I say no to all that, of course, as John Ford's imagery clearly proves. Images convey ideas and tell stories as much as words. There's nothing exclusively literary in stories. A literary comic doesn't necessarily mean a wordy one. Another problem may be that, in spite of being swamped by images of all sorts, most people remain mostly image illiterate. (And here I go again needing to borrow a word from another field.) Modern visual artists and  critics are to blame for this: in their relentless search for purity they denied any connection with narratives. Trees and stones, as Cézanne would put it, shouldn't tell any stories, but the fact is that they do, either we want them to or not...

In the foreground: Madgelana Martin (Claudette Colbert) in Drums Along the Mohawk (1939) by John Ford (director), Bert Glennon and Ray Rennahan (cinematography). 

In the foreground: Clementine Carter (Cathy Downs) in My Darling Clementine (1946) by John Ford (director), Joseph MacDonald (cinematography). In the background, Agathla's Needle: imposing mythical symbol or just another phallic symbol, or both?... Didn't I tell you that rocks tell stories?...