Remaking a classic movie is often a risky proposition. More often than not, Hollywood filmmakers aim high but wind up shooting low. "O, Brother Where Art Thou?" co-writer and directors Ethan and Joel Coens' remake of director Henry Hathaway's "True Grit" (1969), with John Wayne in his only Oscar winning performance, qualifies as the exception to the rule. Not only do the Coens aim high, but they also hit the bull's-eye. Ostensibly, they have done a splendid job with their first horse opera, and Jeff Bridges has filled some mighty big boots without stumbling. Strictly speaking, the Coens' "True Grit" (***1/2 OUT OF ****) isn't the first remake. Few remember director Richard T. Heffron's TV remake of "True Grit" with character actor Warren Oates donning the eye patch as Marshal Rooster Cogburn. Heffron's 1978 television pilot for a proposed TV series went belly up. Meanwhile, the salient differences between Hathaway's version and the Coens' remake boils down to the differences in the respective performances between Wayne and Bridges. Mind you, Bridges doesn't impersonate Wayne so much as deliver his own interpretation of the cantankerous protagonist from author Charles Portis' western bestseller. Indeed, Bridges sports his eye patch over his right eye rather than the left as Wayne did. The Coens have gone back to the Charles Portis novel and shifted the emphasis from the pugnacious Cogburn to plucky teenage heroine Mattie Ross.
When family man Frank Ross is gunned down in cold blood in Fort Smith, Arkansas, his 14-year old daughter Mattie (newcomer Hailee Steinfeld) leaves her ranch in Yell County near Dardanelle to avenge his death. Hired hand Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin of "Jonah Hex") murdered the Ross patriarch, robbed him, stole his horse and then disappeared into the Indian Territory. The Indian Territory here is what eventually became the state of Oklahoma . Mattie arrives in Fort Smith by train determined to bring her father's killer to justice. She learns that the Fort Smith authorities have issued a warrant on Chaney. Unfortunately, they can't arrest Chaney since the Indian nation lies beyond their jurisdiction. Eventually, Mattie finds the right man to help her. U.S. Marshal Reuben J. Cogburn, better known thereabouts as 'Rooster,' is described to her by the sheriff as "a pitiless man, double-tough, and fear don't enter into his thinking." The sheriff adds that Rooster craves liquor. Mattie manages to recruit Rooster (Jeff Bridges of "The Big Lebowski") with an offer to pay him $100. About that time an upstart, cocksure Texas Ranger, LaBoeuf (Matt Damon of "The Departed"), shows up and derails Mattie's plans. LaBoeuf convinces Rooster to leave Mattie behind. Chaney, it seems, shot a Texas senator, and LaBeouf has been tracking him for the enormous reward that the family will pay. LaBoeuf promises to share the reward with Rooster.
Tenacious little Mattie refuses to be left behind. She pursues Rooster and LaBoeuf, swims her horse across a treacherous river, and demands that the marshal return her money. She threatens to prosecute Rooster for betraying her, and LaBoeuf gives her a spanking to silence her. The sight of LaBoeuf whipping the poor teen changes Rooster's mind, and he allows Mattie to ride along with them. A disgusted LaBoeuf parts company with them. Later, Rooster and Mattie sneak up on two grubby gunmen inside a remote cabin. Rooster shoots one of them after the other kills his criminal cohort. The two outlaws fell out with each other after the younger one informed Rooster that they were holding fresh horses for notorious outlaw Lucky Ned Pepper. When Ned (Barry Pepper of "Saving Private Ryan") and his gang show up at the cabin, they run into LaBoeuf. LaBoeuf finds himself caught up in the cross-fire between Rooster and Ned. Accidentally, Rooster wounds LaBoeuf in the melee, and Ned escapes. Inexplicably, this is the only scene that the Coens changed substantially that Portis did not have in his novel.
Mattie cannot believe they have lost their only lead to Tom Chaney. Earlier, the Fort Smith authorities said that Chaney had thrown in with Ned and helped rob a train. Everybody is set to ride their separate ways when Mattie stumbles onto Chaney. She has gone to the river to fetch water for Rooster when she encounters Chaney. Without a qualm, Mattie brandishes her father's black powder revolver and shoots Chaney. The villainous Chaney survives Mattie's shot and takes her prisoner. Ned rides up and warns Rooster that he will kill Mattie if Rooster doesn't ride off. Ned leaves Mattie with Chaney and warns the outlaw to refrain from harming her. Naturally, Chaney has other ideas. Anybody who has seen the original knows about the infamous snake pit scene when Mattie tumbles into the craggy rocks and gets snake bitten. The consequences are more realistic in this version.
You'll have to look long and hard to complain about the differences between the Coens' "True Grit" and the Hathaway original. Sure, some differences are obvious. Ultimately, however, those differences don't amount to much. The opening and the ending scenes differ. The original "True Grit" dramatized the exposition that opens the new "True Grit." Mattie appears as a fully grown woman in the ending. Bridges doesn't leap a four-rail fence with his horse, and co-star Matt Damon fares better than country music crooner Glen Campbell did in the Wayne version. Actually, Damon winds up in what constitutes a supporting role rather than a co-starring role. Josh Brolin is probably too luminous a star to be shoe-horned into his cameo as the villain that character actor Jeff Corey created. Barry Pepper has a difficult time banishing the memory of Robert Duvall who played the first Lucky Ned Pepper. As Mattie Ross, Hailee Steinfeld is closer in actual age to the heroine than 21-year old Kim Darby was in the first film. The audiences that may be most upset with the new "True Grit" will likely be those who have seen every Coen movie. "True Grit" doesn't bristle with their usual trademark helping of irony and eccentricity. Surprisingly, for a change, the Coens play things pretty much straight down the line. In other words, their remake of the Hathaway classic is reverential.
CINEMATIC REVELATIONS allows me the luxury of writing, editing and archiving my film and television reviews. Some reviews appeared initially in "The Commercial Dispatch" and "The Planet Weekly" and then later in the comment archives at the Internet Movie Database. IMDB.COM, however, imposes a limit on both the number of words and the number of times that an author may revise their comments. I hope that anybody who peruses these expanded reviews will find them useful.
Showing posts with label shoot'em up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shoot'em up. Show all posts
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Saturday, December 11, 2010
FILM REVIEW OF ''THE WARRIOR'S WAY'' (2010)
Freshman writer & director Sngmoo Lee pays tribute to all those East-meets-West horse opera/samurai adventure epics from the 1970s with “The Warrior’s Way.” This action-paced saga synthesizes elements of vintage Shaw Brother martial arts spectacles and violent revenge-themed Spaghetti westerns. A number of these culture-clash oaters appeared in the 1970s where coiffed swordsmen and kung fu masters teamed up with swift-shooting serape-clad gunslingers. Some of these memorable mash-ups with Asian warriors and frontier ruffians were Terence Young’s “Red Sun” (1971) co-starring Charles Bronson and Toshirô Mifune; Antonio Margheriti‘s “The Stranger and the Gunfighter” (1974) with Lee Van Cleef and Lieh Lo; Mario Caiano‘s "The Fighting Fists of Shanghai Joe" (1974) with Klaus Kinski and Chen Lee, and Sergio Corbucci‘s “Shoot First . . . Ask Questions Later” (1975) Eli Wallach and Tomas Milian. Contemporary audiences probably remember Jackie Chan and Owen Wilson in Tom Dey’s “Shanghai Noon” (2000) and perhaps Takashi Miike’s more recent “Sukiyaki Western Django” (2007) with Quentin Tarantino and Hideaki Itô. “The Warrior’s Way” (***½ out of ****) teems with gravity-defying ninjas that magically materialize out of thin-air and hordes of plug-ugly pistoleros who look like they are taking a siesta from the “Mad Max” franchise.
“The Warrior’s Way” opens with our hero, Yang (South Korean superstar Dong-gun Jang of “Tae Guk Gi: The Brotherhood of War”), wiping out an entire clan of swordsmen and ending a 500-year rivalry between the Sad Flutes army of assassins and an anonymous clan. Yang has emerged from his final battle without a scratch and needs only to slay a defenseless infant princess. Before he can carve up the adorable little girl, he feels the petal of a flower float down onto his cheek and he experiences a change of heart. Mind you, Yang has been taught from youth by his wise master, Saddest Flute (Lung Ti of “A Better Tomorrow”), to slash anything to ribbons for which he feels the slightest affection. Something about the infant princess, Baby April (Analin Rudd) alters our pugnacious warrior’s attitude. Yang embarks on a journey with the child in tow. Most critics compare these two to the “Lone Wolf and Cub” film franchise, but the Charlie Chaplin and Jackie Coogan silent classic “The Kid” (1921) where the Little Tramp befriends a cast off child seems far more appropriate.
Since Yang and Baby April aren’t safe in Asia, they climb aboard a sailing ship to America. Nevertheless, Yang is hounded every step of the way by Sad Flute assassins. Some of these killers are quite inconspicuous at first glance, but Yang can spot them just by the murderous vibes that they exude. One such incident occurs at a café as a hunched over woman with more wrinkles than a shar pei dog serves them food and tries to slip a knife out of a scabbard cleverly disguised as a plank in the table. Yang skewers her left eye with matched chopsticks, torches the café and continues on his way. Trouble is that our hero has left behind clues to his destination and the Sad Flutes follow. Yang knows that the Sad Flutes are committed to following him to the far corners of the earth, but he also realizes that the only thing that will give away his location is the sound of his sword unsheathed. He decides to look up an old friend Smiley who has taken up residence in a town smack in the middle of nowhere with a desert sealing it off from the outside world.
Running away from violence is easier said than done for our protagonist. He winds up in the inauspicious town of Lode. The citizens welcome Yang and April but Yang learns that his old friend has died. Lode ran a laundry and Yang decides that this might be the best thing to do to throw his enemy off his scent. Yang meets a cute sexy gal, Lynne (Kate Bosworth of “Blue Crush”), and she falls head-over-heels in love with our hero and little April. Unfortunately, like the remote frontier settlement in Don Siegel’s made-for-TV western “Stranger on the Run” with Henry Fonda, the town of Lode suffers from the depredations of an insanely evil man called the Colonel (Danny Huston of “Edge of Darkness”) rode into the town with his army of men to rape and pillage. He attacked Lynne when she was much younger, but she retaliated with a skillet of sizzling potatoes that permanently scarred his face and drove him out of town. Eventually, the Colonel returns looking like the Phantom of the Opera with another army of killers to finish what Lynne started.
No sooner has our hero arrived in Lode looking for anonymity than the Colonel and his army of sadistic killers threaten to destroy the town. A drunken gunslinger, Ron (Academy Award winning Geoffrey Rush of “Shine”), swears off his cactus juice long enough to wield a high-powered rifle to perforate the Colonel’s low-down minions as they storm the town. Ron’s strategy resembles the sharp-shooting protagonist in Tonino Valerii’s classic Spaghetti western “My Name Is Nobody” where Henry Fonda targeted saddle bags stuffed with dynamite on the backs of an army of horsemen. Every time that he put a bullet in the shining conchos of the saddle bags, a horseman vanished in a dusty explosion. Predictably, Ron eliminates his share of riders before Yang slices up the rest with his razor-sharp sword. In the middle of this mayhem, Saddest Flute shows up with his army of ninjas and all hell really breaks loose.
“The Warrior’s Way” features stoic Korean superstar Dong-gun Jang. This handsome, dark-haired individual exudes presence as he peers out from beneath his Veronica Lake hairstyle and wields a samurai saber with the finesse of a chef slashing up a meal. Oddly enough, this dust raiser of a western was lensed in location in Australia with the liberal use of computer-generated imagery so it has a contrived “Wizard of Oz” staginess that some critics have derided. Nevertheless, Lee displays enviable style as he orchestrates several ultra-violent showdowns between the heroes and villains. “Lies” cinematographer Woo-Hyung Kim provides visually compelling compositions galore that clinch your attention. Indeed, Lee and Kim have conjured up a very kinetic piece of blood and gore that should make “The Warrior’s Way” an eventual cult hit on video since audiences aren’t turning out in droves to see it. Basically, “The Warrior’s Way” is a glorified B-movie actioneer brimming with eccentric characters and wholesale bloodshed.
“The Warrior’s Way” opens with our hero, Yang (South Korean superstar Dong-gun Jang of “Tae Guk Gi: The Brotherhood of War”), wiping out an entire clan of swordsmen and ending a 500-year rivalry between the Sad Flutes army of assassins and an anonymous clan. Yang has emerged from his final battle without a scratch and needs only to slay a defenseless infant princess. Before he can carve up the adorable little girl, he feels the petal of a flower float down onto his cheek and he experiences a change of heart. Mind you, Yang has been taught from youth by his wise master, Saddest Flute (Lung Ti of “A Better Tomorrow”), to slash anything to ribbons for which he feels the slightest affection. Something about the infant princess, Baby April (Analin Rudd) alters our pugnacious warrior’s attitude. Yang embarks on a journey with the child in tow. Most critics compare these two to the “Lone Wolf and Cub” film franchise, but the Charlie Chaplin and Jackie Coogan silent classic “The Kid” (1921) where the Little Tramp befriends a cast off child seems far more appropriate.
Since Yang and Baby April aren’t safe in Asia, they climb aboard a sailing ship to America. Nevertheless, Yang is hounded every step of the way by Sad Flute assassins. Some of these killers are quite inconspicuous at first glance, but Yang can spot them just by the murderous vibes that they exude. One such incident occurs at a café as a hunched over woman with more wrinkles than a shar pei dog serves them food and tries to slip a knife out of a scabbard cleverly disguised as a plank in the table. Yang skewers her left eye with matched chopsticks, torches the café and continues on his way. Trouble is that our hero has left behind clues to his destination and the Sad Flutes follow. Yang knows that the Sad Flutes are committed to following him to the far corners of the earth, but he also realizes that the only thing that will give away his location is the sound of his sword unsheathed. He decides to look up an old friend Smiley who has taken up residence in a town smack in the middle of nowhere with a desert sealing it off from the outside world.
Running away from violence is easier said than done for our protagonist. He winds up in the inauspicious town of Lode. The citizens welcome Yang and April but Yang learns that his old friend has died. Lode ran a laundry and Yang decides that this might be the best thing to do to throw his enemy off his scent. Yang meets a cute sexy gal, Lynne (Kate Bosworth of “Blue Crush”), and she falls head-over-heels in love with our hero and little April. Unfortunately, like the remote frontier settlement in Don Siegel’s made-for-TV western “Stranger on the Run” with Henry Fonda, the town of Lode suffers from the depredations of an insanely evil man called the Colonel (Danny Huston of “Edge of Darkness”) rode into the town with his army of men to rape and pillage. He attacked Lynne when she was much younger, but she retaliated with a skillet of sizzling potatoes that permanently scarred his face and drove him out of town. Eventually, the Colonel returns looking like the Phantom of the Opera with another army of killers to finish what Lynne started.
No sooner has our hero arrived in Lode looking for anonymity than the Colonel and his army of sadistic killers threaten to destroy the town. A drunken gunslinger, Ron (Academy Award winning Geoffrey Rush of “Shine”), swears off his cactus juice long enough to wield a high-powered rifle to perforate the Colonel’s low-down minions as they storm the town. Ron’s strategy resembles the sharp-shooting protagonist in Tonino Valerii’s classic Spaghetti western “My Name Is Nobody” where Henry Fonda targeted saddle bags stuffed with dynamite on the backs of an army of horsemen. Every time that he put a bullet in the shining conchos of the saddle bags, a horseman vanished in a dusty explosion. Predictably, Ron eliminates his share of riders before Yang slices up the rest with his razor-sharp sword. In the middle of this mayhem, Saddest Flute shows up with his army of ninjas and all hell really breaks loose.
“The Warrior’s Way” features stoic Korean superstar Dong-gun Jang. This handsome, dark-haired individual exudes presence as he peers out from beneath his Veronica Lake hairstyle and wields a samurai saber with the finesse of a chef slashing up a meal. Oddly enough, this dust raiser of a western was lensed in location in Australia with the liberal use of computer-generated imagery so it has a contrived “Wizard of Oz” staginess that some critics have derided. Nevertheless, Lee displays enviable style as he orchestrates several ultra-violent showdowns between the heroes and villains. “Lies” cinematographer Woo-Hyung Kim provides visually compelling compositions galore that clinch your attention. Indeed, Lee and Kim have conjured up a very kinetic piece of blood and gore that should make “The Warrior’s Way” an eventual cult hit on video since audiences aren’t turning out in droves to see it. Basically, “The Warrior’s Way” is a glorified B-movie actioneer brimming with eccentric characters and wholesale bloodshed.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
FILM REVIEW OF ''THEY CALL ME TRINITY'' (1971)
Terence Hill had been acting in movies for almost twenty years before he took the lead in "Unholy Four" director Enzo Barboni's "They Call Me Trinity" (1971) with his favorite co-star Bud Spencer. Initially, Hill made his cinematic debut in 1951 as a child actor in director Dino Risi's "Vacation with a Gangster" under his real name Mario Girotti. Later, Girotti would appear in co-directors Gillo Pontecorvo & Maleno Malenotti's "The Wild Blue Road" (1957), and director Luchino Visconti's "The Leopard" (1963). When Franco Nero became popular, Nero's popularity was so vast that he couldn't appear in every Italian film so the Roman film industry found suitable substitutes, among them Maurizio Merli and Terence Hill. Hill starred in several Spaghetti westerns, including a Nero-esquire oater, director Ferdinando Baldi's "Viva Django!" (1968) as well as in the Giuseppe Colizzi trilogy, "God Forgives, But I Don't" (1967), "Ace High" (1968), and "Boot Hill" (1969), where he met Bud Spencer.
Although it did not qualify as the first Spaghetti western parody, "They Call Me Trinity" (**** OUT OF ****) cemented Hill's claim to fame and he became famous in his own right. Italian film comics Franco Franchi and Ciccio Ingrassia had starred in parody picture "Two R-R-Ringos from Texas" as early as 1967. Meantime, this landmark, low-brow western slapstick shoot'em up roughly imitates the same trail as George Stevens' "Shane" with Alan Ladd and John Sturges' "The Magnificent Seven." Not only did "They Call Me Trinity" turn Terence Hill into an international superstar, but also Bud Spencer and he wound up co-starring in 18 films. They met on Colizzi's "God Forgives, But I Don't" when Hill replaced actor Pietro Martellanza after the latter broke his leg and found himself acting with Spencer. Ironically, cinematographer-turned-director Enzo Barboni is reported to have persuaded Sergio Leone to watch "Yojimbo" because it would make a great western. Barboni lensed his share of Spaghetti westerns, including "The 5-Man Army," "The Hellbenders," "A Long Ride from Hell," and "Viva Django!"
Although it is not the first Spaghetti spoof, "They Call Me Trinity" ranks as one of the top five Italian western comedies, bracketed by its side-splitting sequel "Trinity Is Still My Name" and director Tonino Valerii's "My Name Is Nobody." Unfortunately, Barboni never delivered a third "Trinity," but he did make an inferior spin-off western "Trinity & Bambino: The Legend Lives On." Incidentally, do not be fooled into believing that director Mario Camus' "Trinity Sees Red" is a "Trinity" sequel because it is not. Furthermore, Terence Hill does not play Trinity. Presumably, the distributors were banking on Hill's identity as Trinity to see the film. Terence Hill displayed a knack of comedy so that he could move from a dramatic role to a comedic one. Trinity's first appearance makes it clear he is not a hero in the western tradition of John Wayne riding tall in the saddle. Instead, Trinity sprawls out comfortably on a travois, dragged by his faithful horse that attracts his attention when have reach a stopping point like the Chaparral Stage Coach Station.
Covered from head to toe in dust, Trinity (Terence Hill) fetches his horse some hay and enters the station. The owner gives him a plate of beans. Two bounty hunters with a Mexican in their custody watch in fascination as Trinity polishes off his beans. As he leaves, Trinity takes the poor Mexican with him to the surprise of the bounty hunters. As he strolls out the door with his back to the bounty hunters, they try to bushwhack him. Trinity casually plugs both of them without a backward glance. He just keeps on traipsing along with the little Hispanic to his horse. This scene depicts Trinity's incredible marksmanship. Later, we discover that he can slap a man faster than the other man can draw his own six-gun. The long funny scene when Trinity appropriates the huge pan of beans and wolfs them down with a slab of bread is an amusing gastronomic gag. Thereafter, eating beans became a trademark for both Trinity and Hill. Altogether, Hill is just plain, downright affable as the protagonist who you cannot help but like because he radiates some much charisma.
In the next scene, Trinity rides into town where his half-brother Bambino (Bud Spencer) is masquerading as the town sheriff. Bambino is known as 'the left hand of the devil' and he guns down three tough-talking gunslingers when they challenge his authority. As it turns out, Bambino escaped from prison, shot a man following him, learned the wounded man was a sheriff and then took his job. Bambino is waiting for his fellow horse rustling thieves, Weasel (Ezio Marano of "Beast with a Gun") and Timmy (Luciano Rossi of "Deaf Smith & Johnny Ears") to arrive so they can head for California. Major Harriman (a mustached Farley Granger of "The Man Called Noon" doing faux Southern accent) is trying to run a community of Mormons out of a scenic valley where he would rather see his horses grazing. "Either you leave this valley, old man, or I'll bury you in it," Harriman assures Brother Tobias (Dan Sturkie of "Man of the East"), the leader of the Mormons. Eventually, Harriman teams up with an evil Mexican bandit, Mezcal (Remo Capitani of "The Grand Duel"), and his army of horse thieves. Of course, Trinity and Bambino thwart the Major and the Mexicans and save the Mormons from sure suicide.
The slapping scene in the saloon between Trinity and the Major's hired gunmen is hilarious. Bambino and Trinity get along for the most part, but Bambino has little respect for his half-brother's apparent lack of ambition. Nevertheless, the comedy emerges from their clash of personalities. "They Call Me Trinity" relies on broad humor, some shooting, and a lot of fist-fighting, but this western is neither violent nor bloody. The opening theme song provides a thumbnail sketch of Trinity and it hearkens back to similar theme songs in American westerns made in the 1950s.
Although it did not qualify as the first Spaghetti western parody, "They Call Me Trinity" (**** OUT OF ****) cemented Hill's claim to fame and he became famous in his own right. Italian film comics Franco Franchi and Ciccio Ingrassia had starred in parody picture "Two R-R-Ringos from Texas" as early as 1967. Meantime, this landmark, low-brow western slapstick shoot'em up roughly imitates the same trail as George Stevens' "Shane" with Alan Ladd and John Sturges' "The Magnificent Seven." Not only did "They Call Me Trinity" turn Terence Hill into an international superstar, but also Bud Spencer and he wound up co-starring in 18 films. They met on Colizzi's "God Forgives, But I Don't" when Hill replaced actor Pietro Martellanza after the latter broke his leg and found himself acting with Spencer. Ironically, cinematographer-turned-director Enzo Barboni is reported to have persuaded Sergio Leone to watch "Yojimbo" because it would make a great western. Barboni lensed his share of Spaghetti westerns, including "The 5-Man Army," "The Hellbenders," "A Long Ride from Hell," and "Viva Django!"
Although it is not the first Spaghetti spoof, "They Call Me Trinity" ranks as one of the top five Italian western comedies, bracketed by its side-splitting sequel "Trinity Is Still My Name" and director Tonino Valerii's "My Name Is Nobody." Unfortunately, Barboni never delivered a third "Trinity," but he did make an inferior spin-off western "Trinity & Bambino: The Legend Lives On." Incidentally, do not be fooled into believing that director Mario Camus' "Trinity Sees Red" is a "Trinity" sequel because it is not. Furthermore, Terence Hill does not play Trinity. Presumably, the distributors were banking on Hill's identity as Trinity to see the film. Terence Hill displayed a knack of comedy so that he could move from a dramatic role to a comedic one. Trinity's first appearance makes it clear he is not a hero in the western tradition of John Wayne riding tall in the saddle. Instead, Trinity sprawls out comfortably on a travois, dragged by his faithful horse that attracts his attention when have reach a stopping point like the Chaparral Stage Coach Station.
Covered from head to toe in dust, Trinity (Terence Hill) fetches his horse some hay and enters the station. The owner gives him a plate of beans. Two bounty hunters with a Mexican in their custody watch in fascination as Trinity polishes off his beans. As he leaves, Trinity takes the poor Mexican with him to the surprise of the bounty hunters. As he strolls out the door with his back to the bounty hunters, they try to bushwhack him. Trinity casually plugs both of them without a backward glance. He just keeps on traipsing along with the little Hispanic to his horse. This scene depicts Trinity's incredible marksmanship. Later, we discover that he can slap a man faster than the other man can draw his own six-gun. The long funny scene when Trinity appropriates the huge pan of beans and wolfs them down with a slab of bread is an amusing gastronomic gag. Thereafter, eating beans became a trademark for both Trinity and Hill. Altogether, Hill is just plain, downright affable as the protagonist who you cannot help but like because he radiates some much charisma.
In the next scene, Trinity rides into town where his half-brother Bambino (Bud Spencer) is masquerading as the town sheriff. Bambino is known as 'the left hand of the devil' and he guns down three tough-talking gunslingers when they challenge his authority. As it turns out, Bambino escaped from prison, shot a man following him, learned the wounded man was a sheriff and then took his job. Bambino is waiting for his fellow horse rustling thieves, Weasel (Ezio Marano of "Beast with a Gun") and Timmy (Luciano Rossi of "Deaf Smith & Johnny Ears") to arrive so they can head for California. Major Harriman (a mustached Farley Granger of "The Man Called Noon" doing faux Southern accent) is trying to run a community of Mormons out of a scenic valley where he would rather see his horses grazing. "Either you leave this valley, old man, or I'll bury you in it," Harriman assures Brother Tobias (Dan Sturkie of "Man of the East"), the leader of the Mormons. Eventually, Harriman teams up with an evil Mexican bandit, Mezcal (Remo Capitani of "The Grand Duel"), and his army of horse thieves. Of course, Trinity and Bambino thwart the Major and the Mexicans and save the Mormons from sure suicide.
The slapping scene in the saloon between Trinity and the Major's hired gunmen is hilarious. Bambino and Trinity get along for the most part, but Bambino has little respect for his half-brother's apparent lack of ambition. Nevertheless, the comedy emerges from their clash of personalities. "They Call Me Trinity" relies on broad humor, some shooting, and a lot of fist-fighting, but this western is neither violent nor bloody. The opening theme song provides a thumbnail sketch of Trinity and it hearkens back to similar theme songs in American westerns made in the 1950s.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
FILM REVIEW OF ''EL DORADO" (1967)
“Red River” director Howard Hawks’ “El Dorado” (**** out of ****) qualifies as a leisurely, old-fashioned oater that conjures up more hilarity with its frequent comic interludes than its serious moments. Mind you, this 1967 John Wayne & Robert Mitchum western possesses a couple of unsavory moments, principally when men brandish their six-guns and blast away at each other without a qualm. The violence here is nothing compared to the sadistic Spaghetti westerns produced in Europe during the late 1960s. Anybody who enjoys Hawks’ westerns should not be surprised that Hawks and scenarist Leigh Brackett dusted off the plot to “Rio Bravo,” essentially recycled scenes and characters from that film rather than from the cited source material, the novel "The Stars in Their Courses" by Harry Brown, published in 1962. Reportedly, Hawka retained one scene from the book and fell back on "Rio Bravo." The one scene involved the shooting of Luke MacDonald.
Hawks cast Robert Mitchum as the drunken that Dean Martin had played in “Rio Bravo.” Arthur Hunnicutt takes over for Walter Brennan, while James Caan substitutes for Ricky Nelson in a different role. Hawks changed Caan’s supporting role from Nelson’s accurate shooting gunslinger to the worst shot on the frontier. As in “Rio Bravo,” the heroes hole up in a jail with a prisoner and await the arrival of the territorial lawman while the villain’s henchmen keep them bottled up in town. This time, however, John Wayne plays a drifting gunfighter with an Achilles heel, while Mitchum wears the sheriff’s badge. Hawks and Brackett whittled down the female participation to an older woman, Charlene Holt, who walks in from time to time, but never intrudes on the action like Angie Dickinson did in “Rio Bravo.” Meanwhile, a young slip of a girl, cute Michele Carey, has a somewhat bigger part as a hot-headed babe who wounds our hero and later guns down the chief villain. Nevertheless, “El Dorado” is an immensely charismatic western with clever dialogue, interesting characters, and hilarious humor. Attention deficient audiences may complain this 126 minute melodrama drags and sags when it should raise hell and holler.
Hawks and Brackett provide the ground work for the plot in the opening scene when Sheriff J.P. Harrah (Robert Mitchum of “Cape Fear”) confronts Cole Thornton (John Wayne of “Hatari”) in the washroom of a local saloon. Cole has come to El Dorado to hire his gun out to ranch owner Bart Jason (Edward Asner of “The Satan Bug”), but Harrah dissuades him from taking the job. Harrah explains that Jason is a greedy rancher who wants to expand his spread, but he needs water. Incidentally, the Bart Jason character resembles Hawks’ “Rio Lobo” villain Ketchum in that Jason showed up in El Dorado with a lot of money when everybody else in Texas was dead broke. Harrah elaborates that Jason wants to run the cattle rancher Kevin MacDonald (R. G. Armstrong of “Ride the High Country”) out of the country because he cannot force MacDonald to sell out to him. Cole decides to accommodate Harrah and pull out. He rides out to Jason’s ranch and refuses to hire out to him. Meantime, Doc Miller (Paul Fix) has sent warning out to MacDonald that Cole Thornton is on Jason’s payroll. MacDonald and his men scatter and he leaves his youngest son Luke (Johnny Crawford of “The Rifleman”) to serve as a look-out and fire in the air if he should see Thornton.
After Cole leaves Jason’s ranch, he rides toward the place where Luke is stationed. A startled Luke awakens, leaps up and fires at Cole rather than shooting in the air. Without a second thought, Cole plugs Luke. Luke commits suicide because he has been gut shot and feels that he cannot survive such a painful wound. Cole takes Luke’s body to the MacDonald ranch. Joey MacDonald (Michele Carey of “Dirty Dingus Magee”) vows to kill Cole. She lays in ambush and wounds him. Doc Miller refuses to extract the slug because it lies too close to Cole’s spine and he fears that he would do more damage. He advises Cole to find “one of them new-fangled squirts” to remove it, “but don’t wait too long to do it.” Cole rides off to the border for a job and winds up in a border town where he runs into scar-faced killer Nelse McLeod (Christopher George of “The Rat Patrol”) and his gunmen. McLeod and his gunmen are heading for El Dorado to take the same job with Bart Jason that Cole turned down. Another young drifter, Alan Bourdillon Traherne(James Caan of “Redline 7000”) enter the cantina, picks a fight with a McLeod gunman, and kills him with a knife in a draw.
After Cole prevents Trehearne, whose nicknamed ‘Mississippi,’ from walking into an ambush by McLeod’s vengeful gunmen, the younger man becomes his sidekick. Cole advises Mississippi to get rid of his oddball hat and get a gun. Mississippi asks Cole to teach him how to shoot, but Mississippi is such a bad shot that Cole gets him a sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun with the stock cut down to a plow-handle. Initially, Cole doesn’t want anything to do with Mississippi, but Mississippi knows that Cole is heading back to El Dorado. It seems that Sheriff J.P. Harrah tangled “with a wandering petticoat” and lost. Since his ill-fated romance, Harrah has retreated into a whiskey bottle and Cole fears that Harrah will prove easy prey for McLeod. When they reach El Dorado, Maudie (Charlene Holt of “Redline 7000”) brings Cole up to speed on the situation. Cole and Harrah tangle in the jail when Cole tries to awaken the drunken Harrah. Mississippi whips together a concoction to sober up Harrah and an old frontier scout Bull (seasoned character actor Arthur Hunnicutt of “The Big Sky”) helps him acquire the ingredients.
Jason’s men wound another MacDonald and Harrah takes Jason prisoner while McLeod lays siege to the jail. Cole’s Achilles heel gunshot wound strikes him at an inopportune time and McLeod takes him hostage and exchanges Cole for Jason. The heroes, both crippled from gunshot wounds, surprise McLeod and Joe mows down Jason in a savage shoot’em up. Christopher George doesn’t get much screen time but he makes a memorable villain. Hunnicutt steals the show with his homespun humor. The byplay between Wayne and Mitchum is hilarious, especially when Wayne awakens Mitchum in the jail scenes. Mitchum is quite good playing a drunk and he shares a scene in the saloon showdown with his brother.
“Bad Seed” lenser Harold Rosson gives “El Dorado” a warm, leathery look that adds atmosphere to the action. The shot where McLeod’s henchman plunges off a church belfry and falls into the camera is terrific! “Batman” composer Nelson Riddle furnishes this western with a lively jazz type orchestral score. Veteran characters Jim Davis of “Dallas” and Don Collier of “The High Chaparral” appear in supporting roles. “El Dorado” ranks as a more entertaining western that “Rio Bravo,” but “Rio Bravo” is justly considered more classical, if for nothing than he served as the inspiration for Hawks and Wayne to reteam with Brackett handling the screenplay. Hawks and Brackett dust off another scene for some of the more violent encounters in “El Dorado.” After Mississippi shoots a McLeod man, two of McLeod’s gunmen, Milt (Robert Donner) and Pedro lay outside to bushwhack Mississippi. Cole keeps Mississippi from being shot. Three-quarters to the way into the story, Cole and Mississippi chase a villain in to saloon and find Milt and Pedro waiting for them in front of a doorway. Cole pumps Milt full with three slugs before the reluctant villain agrees to exit by the rear door, only to be shot and killed by assassins waiting outside. Hawks and Brackett pulled this gag in the Humphrey Bogart film noir thriller “The Big Sleep.” The scene where a hung0ver Harrah pursues a wounded gunman into the saloon is similar to a “Rio Bravo” confrontation where Dude (Dean Martin) pursued a wounded killer into a saloon. The scene where James Caan’s knife-throwing sidekick pronounces his name for the benefit of a fuzzy-headed Harrah is side-splitting stuff.
“El Dorado” is worth seeing several times over.
Hawks cast Robert Mitchum as the drunken that Dean Martin had played in “Rio Bravo.” Arthur Hunnicutt takes over for Walter Brennan, while James Caan substitutes for Ricky Nelson in a different role. Hawks changed Caan’s supporting role from Nelson’s accurate shooting gunslinger to the worst shot on the frontier. As in “Rio Bravo,” the heroes hole up in a jail with a prisoner and await the arrival of the territorial lawman while the villain’s henchmen keep them bottled up in town. This time, however, John Wayne plays a drifting gunfighter with an Achilles heel, while Mitchum wears the sheriff’s badge. Hawks and Brackett whittled down the female participation to an older woman, Charlene Holt, who walks in from time to time, but never intrudes on the action like Angie Dickinson did in “Rio Bravo.” Meanwhile, a young slip of a girl, cute Michele Carey, has a somewhat bigger part as a hot-headed babe who wounds our hero and later guns down the chief villain. Nevertheless, “El Dorado” is an immensely charismatic western with clever dialogue, interesting characters, and hilarious humor. Attention deficient audiences may complain this 126 minute melodrama drags and sags when it should raise hell and holler.
Hawks and Brackett provide the ground work for the plot in the opening scene when Sheriff J.P. Harrah (Robert Mitchum of “Cape Fear”) confronts Cole Thornton (John Wayne of “Hatari”) in the washroom of a local saloon. Cole has come to El Dorado to hire his gun out to ranch owner Bart Jason (Edward Asner of “The Satan Bug”), but Harrah dissuades him from taking the job. Harrah explains that Jason is a greedy rancher who wants to expand his spread, but he needs water. Incidentally, the Bart Jason character resembles Hawks’ “Rio Lobo” villain Ketchum in that Jason showed up in El Dorado with a lot of money when everybody else in Texas was dead broke. Harrah elaborates that Jason wants to run the cattle rancher Kevin MacDonald (R. G. Armstrong of “Ride the High Country”) out of the country because he cannot force MacDonald to sell out to him. Cole decides to accommodate Harrah and pull out. He rides out to Jason’s ranch and refuses to hire out to him. Meantime, Doc Miller (Paul Fix) has sent warning out to MacDonald that Cole Thornton is on Jason’s payroll. MacDonald and his men scatter and he leaves his youngest son Luke (Johnny Crawford of “The Rifleman”) to serve as a look-out and fire in the air if he should see Thornton.
After Cole leaves Jason’s ranch, he rides toward the place where Luke is stationed. A startled Luke awakens, leaps up and fires at Cole rather than shooting in the air. Without a second thought, Cole plugs Luke. Luke commits suicide because he has been gut shot and feels that he cannot survive such a painful wound. Cole takes Luke’s body to the MacDonald ranch. Joey MacDonald (Michele Carey of “Dirty Dingus Magee”) vows to kill Cole. She lays in ambush and wounds him. Doc Miller refuses to extract the slug because it lies too close to Cole’s spine and he fears that he would do more damage. He advises Cole to find “one of them new-fangled squirts” to remove it, “but don’t wait too long to do it.” Cole rides off to the border for a job and winds up in a border town where he runs into scar-faced killer Nelse McLeod (Christopher George of “The Rat Patrol”) and his gunmen. McLeod and his gunmen are heading for El Dorado to take the same job with Bart Jason that Cole turned down. Another young drifter, Alan Bourdillon Traherne(James Caan of “Redline 7000”) enter the cantina, picks a fight with a McLeod gunman, and kills him with a knife in a draw.
After Cole prevents Trehearne, whose nicknamed ‘Mississippi,’ from walking into an ambush by McLeod’s vengeful gunmen, the younger man becomes his sidekick. Cole advises Mississippi to get rid of his oddball hat and get a gun. Mississippi asks Cole to teach him how to shoot, but Mississippi is such a bad shot that Cole gets him a sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun with the stock cut down to a plow-handle. Initially, Cole doesn’t want anything to do with Mississippi, but Mississippi knows that Cole is heading back to El Dorado. It seems that Sheriff J.P. Harrah tangled “with a wandering petticoat” and lost. Since his ill-fated romance, Harrah has retreated into a whiskey bottle and Cole fears that Harrah will prove easy prey for McLeod. When they reach El Dorado, Maudie (Charlene Holt of “Redline 7000”) brings Cole up to speed on the situation. Cole and Harrah tangle in the jail when Cole tries to awaken the drunken Harrah. Mississippi whips together a concoction to sober up Harrah and an old frontier scout Bull (seasoned character actor Arthur Hunnicutt of “The Big Sky”) helps him acquire the ingredients.
Jason’s men wound another MacDonald and Harrah takes Jason prisoner while McLeod lays siege to the jail. Cole’s Achilles heel gunshot wound strikes him at an inopportune time and McLeod takes him hostage and exchanges Cole for Jason. The heroes, both crippled from gunshot wounds, surprise McLeod and Joe mows down Jason in a savage shoot’em up. Christopher George doesn’t get much screen time but he makes a memorable villain. Hunnicutt steals the show with his homespun humor. The byplay between Wayne and Mitchum is hilarious, especially when Wayne awakens Mitchum in the jail scenes. Mitchum is quite good playing a drunk and he shares a scene in the saloon showdown with his brother.
“Bad Seed” lenser Harold Rosson gives “El Dorado” a warm, leathery look that adds atmosphere to the action. The shot where McLeod’s henchman plunges off a church belfry and falls into the camera is terrific! “Batman” composer Nelson Riddle furnishes this western with a lively jazz type orchestral score. Veteran characters Jim Davis of “Dallas” and Don Collier of “The High Chaparral” appear in supporting roles. “El Dorado” ranks as a more entertaining western that “Rio Bravo,” but “Rio Bravo” is justly considered more classical, if for nothing than he served as the inspiration for Hawks and Wayne to reteam with Brackett handling the screenplay. Hawks and Brackett dust off another scene for some of the more violent encounters in “El Dorado.” After Mississippi shoots a McLeod man, two of McLeod’s gunmen, Milt (Robert Donner) and Pedro lay outside to bushwhack Mississippi. Cole keeps Mississippi from being shot. Three-quarters to the way into the story, Cole and Mississippi chase a villain in to saloon and find Milt and Pedro waiting for them in front of a doorway. Cole pumps Milt full with three slugs before the reluctant villain agrees to exit by the rear door, only to be shot and killed by assassins waiting outside. Hawks and Brackett pulled this gag in the Humphrey Bogart film noir thriller “The Big Sleep.” The scene where a hung0ver Harrah pursues a wounded gunman into the saloon is similar to a “Rio Bravo” confrontation where Dude (Dean Martin) pursued a wounded killer into a saloon. The scene where James Caan’s knife-throwing sidekick pronounces his name for the benefit of a fuzzy-headed Harrah is side-splitting stuff.
“El Dorado” is worth seeing several times over.
Friday, March 13, 2009
FILM REVIEW OF ''JOE KIDD'' (1971)
Clint Eastwood, scenarist Elmore Leonard, and director John Sturges teamed up to make this traditional, action-packed horse opera about racial injustice in the old West. “Joe Kidd” (***1/2 out of ****) ranks as Eastwood’s least appreciated western. Nevertheless, it qualifies as a solid, well-made, shoot’em up with spectacular scenery enhanced by Bruce Surtees’ pictorially elegant widescreen cinematography, and a well-rounded, first-class supporting cast including Robert Duvall, John Saxon, Don Stroud, Paul Koslo, and Gregory Walcott. “Mission Impossible” composer Lalo Schifrin’s orchestral score delivers atmosphere and ramps up the suspense without calling attention to itself. Schifrin is the flipside of the coin to Sturges’ usual composer Elmer Bernstein. Bernstein always brought a thunderous, larger-than-life, Aaron Copland quality to Sturge's westerns, chiefly “The Magnificent Seven” and “The Hallelujah Trail.” Indeed, “Bad Day at Black Rock” helmer John Sturges crafted a modest, little dust-raiser that gave Clint Eastwood his least pretentious but most masculine role while Duvall makes a worthy adversary with Saxon as the victimized Hispanic caught in the crossfire. Elmore Leonard of “Hombre” and “3:10 to Yuma” delivers his usual brand of quirky dialogue that has an improvisational spontaneity. “Joe Kidd” isn’t the kind of oater that makes a big impression. It lacks the off-beat imagination of “High Plains Drifter,” the stolidity of “Hang’em High,” the abrasive violence of Leone’s Spaghetti western trilogy, the epic grandeur of Eastwood’s own “Outlaw Josey Wales,” or the funereal Bergman-esque histrionics of Eastwood’s “Pale Rider” and “Unforgiven.” Watching “Joe Kidd” is like eating ham on rye and washing it down with a light beer. You’ll enjoy it, but you’ll probably forget it until somebody prompts you to comment about it and because it is so fluid, you’ll dismiss as adequate but less than memorable. If you do remember “Joe Kidd,” you’ll remember it as the western where Clint Eastwood wields an automatic German Mauser pistol and crashes a locomotive through a saloon.
Not long after Kidd hires on to guide Harlan and company into rough country in pursuit of Chama, he discovers that Harlan has no qualms about killing Chama. Initially, Kidd turned Harlan down and decided to serve out his ten days. Joe owns a small horse ranch, and he found his Mexican ranch hand barb-wired to a fence. Ramon did this to Joe’s hired hand, so Joe changes his mind and tells Harlan that he will guide him for a $1000 rather than $500 dollars. Joe and Lamarr get off to a bad start. Lamarr confronts Joe on the hotel staircase and asks him where he is going. Joe simply grabs Lamarr’s belt and sends him tumbling down the stairs. Later, Lamarr confronts Joe again and threatens to kill him with his multi-shot Mauser pistol. Harlen and company with Kidd set out to find Chama.
At one point, Harlan takes an entire village hostage and threatens to five people if Chama doesn’t give himself up. Harlan fires Kidd and packs him into the church with the rest of the hostages. Joe has a brief scrap with Lamarr and leaves the upstart henchmen reeling after he slams a rifle butt into Lamarr’s throat and knocks him down. In the church, Joe sprawls out in the priest’s quarters. At this point, “Joe Kidd” takes on symbolic significance. The Eastwood character is about to become a genuine hero. First, the village priest offers him holy water, and this act serves as a kind of consecration for him. Kidd asks the priest to get him a gun, but he doesn't really think that the cleric with come through on his request. Later, the priest smuggles a revolver to Kidd because he cannot stand the thought of Harlan killing five of his worshippers. Kidd escapes from the church by ascending through the bell tower and manages to dispatch villainous Lamarr. Symbolically, Joe makes a messianic ascension and then spirits Helen away with him, and they ride off to find Chama. Kidd defies the odds and takes Chama back to Sinola, but Harlan doesn’t give us so easily and “Joe Kidd” concludes with a gunfight. The last scene when Kidd guns down Harlan in the same courtroom epitomizes Kidd’s character. He is seated where the judge sets so he amounts metaphorically to judge, jury, and executioner.
Characterization is integrated into the action so that the entire film becomes a fast-moving, tightly-knit story without one extraneous character or event. Every action that Kidd performs in the opening sequence foreshadows his later behavior. Rescuing the judge from Chama’s men compares with Kidd’s decision to bring in Chama before Harlan’s men kill innocent Mexicans. The remorse that Kidd displayed in the courtroom or tried to conceal with his admission later that he “made a poor judgment with which he must live. This philosophy reveals Kidd’s character. He accepts live in terms of good and poor judgments and lives with them. He is not proud of his mistakes, but he wastes no sentiment on them. Throughout the opening scenes, Sturges strongly characterizes Kidd as a man of unruffled nonchalance. According to Clint Eastwood, at CLINT EASTWOOD.NET, "Joe Kidd" never had an ending, and Eastwood states that he had never before gone into a movie without knowing "the punchline." Eastwood adds that Sturges said they would figure it out as they went along. Eastwood didn't seem too impressed with the train ending." Glenn Lovall in his book "Escape Artist" points out that Sturges got the idea for the train ending from an unproduced World War II movie project. Sturges had ambivalent feelings afterward about the film. He wrote in a letter to me in 1978 that, "There were a lot of holes in Joe Kidd. Some in the script that were never fixed and some resulting from cuts because the scenes just did't play." What sets “Joe Kidd” apart from other Eastwood westerns is the reluctance of the hero to shoot down his adversaries. Altogether, “Joe Kidd” qualifies as an underrated oater.
An excellent book to peruse if you are interested in John Sturges, his life, and his films is Glen Lovell's exhaustive biography on Sturges entitled "Escape Artist: The Life and Films of John Sturges." Mr. Lovell spent 10 years writing and researching this seminal text.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
FILM REVIEW OF ''ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST'' (1968)
‘Spaghetti western’ is a synonym for over 800 movies that appeared from the early 1960s to the late 1970s as a sub-genre within the American western film genre. The nickname is derogatory since it became an easy way to distinguish these oaters from the American variety. In truth, Spaghetti westerns were Continental westerns because more than just Italians made them. Usually, ‘Spaghetti westerns’ were cowboy movies produced by Italians, Spanish, and Germans. Occasionally, westerns from the Soviet bloc countries appeared, and “Lemonade Joe” from the Czech Republic came out in 1964. This western was basically a parody of the singing cowboy cycle of westerns produced before and during World War II in the United States. The Andalusia region of Spain, specifically the Tabernas Desert of Almería, served as the primary setting for these dusty sagebrushers, usually with fading American stars in the lead roles and Europeans fleshing out the other roles. Interestingly enough, the first film shot in Spain as a western that wasn’t Italian. Instead, the British production company Hammer Films—known best for their “Dracula” and “Frankenstein” movies—co-produced “The Savage Gun” (1960) with the Spanish and it is considered the first ‘Spaghetti western.’ Michael Carreras directed this shoot’em up with American stars Richard Basehart and Alex Nicol in the starring roles.
Afterward, the Spanish made several “Zorro” westerns and the Germans—adapting the novels of the Teutonic western novelist Karl May's Winnetou series—released several oaters with either British star Stewart Granger or America actor Lex Barker of “Tarzan” fame as the leads. The Winnetou westerns resembled pre-World War II westerns because they dealt with the relationships between whites and Native Americans on the frontier. Again, incredible as it may seem, the Europeans had been making westerns since the silent film days, and the Germans made westerns in the 1930s that looked like the American westerns with Gene Autry, except the plots were more adult and the dialogue was blue with profanity. A number of westerns that were chiefly imitations of American westerns were made between 1962 and 1963. Peplum director Sergio Leone changed everything with his low-budget western “A Fistful of Dollars” in 1964 starring an obscure American TV actor named Clint Eastwood and most westerns after “A Fistful of Dollars” were about the least sentimental character in the western genre—the bounty hunter—who roamed the west killing criminals with a price on their head. The Europeans were crazy about these westerns. Leone followed up his success with “For a Few Dollars More” (1966) with veteran Hollywood villain Lee Van Cleef joining Clint Eastwood in a duel of the bounty hunters plot. Lee Van Cleef’s popularity soon surpassed Clint Eastwood in Europe and Van Cleef made a string of successful westerns about a mysterious gambler/gunman named “Sabata.” Eventually, by the 1970s, the Italians stopped making serious shoot’em ups and turned to parodies, such as director Enzo Barboni’s “They Call Me Trinity” and “Trinity Is Still My Name.” Ironically, Enzo Barboni prompted Sergio Leone to watch the Japanese film “Yojimbo” about a wandering samurai warrior that inspired Leone to remake “Yojimbo” as “Fistful of Dollars.” Not to be outdone by the success of the “Trinity” movies that made obscure Venetian actor Mario Girotti into a superstar in Europe and especially in the southern United States, Leone produced “My Name is Nobody” with Mario Girotti who took the stage name of Terence Hill.
Sergio Leone's "Once Upon A Time in the West," a.k.a. "C'era una volta il West" (**** out of ****) qualifies as one of the all-time great westerns. Indeed, hands down, it ranks as the greatest Spaghetti western. This tale about railroad expansion in the old West holds its own against the best domestic westerns of prestigious American directors John Ford, Anthony Mann, Robert Aldrich, John Sturges, Budd Boetticher, and Henry Hathaway. Essentially, “Once Upon a Time in the West” is about the death of the west because of the coming of the railroad. The cast is first-rate with iconic western star Henry Fonda playing-against-type as a cold-blooded killer while gimlet-eyed heavy Charles Bronson wears the boots of the hero for a change. In between, Jason Robards is splendid as a bearded gunslinger named Cheyenne who has his own gang of killers, and Claudia Cardinale as the up-rooted New Orleans prostitute who comes west as a mail-order mail bride for Frank Wolff, usually a villain in Italian westerns. Although it clocks in at a mammoth 165 minutes, "C'era una volta il West" never wastes a minute in telling its vast story, complete with flashbacks. Sergio Leone surpasses anything that he did in any of his Clint Eastwood westerns. The complex screenplay by horror director Dario "Suspira" Argento, Bernard "Last Tango in Paris" Bertolucci, Sergio "The Big Gundown" Donati, and Sergio Leone contains several epic set-pieces that will never be equaled by anybody. Moreover, it features a sprawling plot. Ennio Morricone's orchestral score, which was finished before the first foot of film was shot, is a legendary in its own right with some unforgettable melodies.
The day that Jill McBain (Claudia Cardinale of "The Professionals") comes west from New Orleans to join Brett McBain (Frank Wolff of "God Forgives, But I Don't") at his house in the middle of nowhere, she arrives to find tragedy awaiting her. Ironically, the McBain house is located on a site called “Sweetwater,” but the water is anything but sweet when Jill shows up for a spectacle of horror. Brett, his two sons, and his only daughter are laid out on the very tables that Jill was to share a picnic welcoming her to their home. As it turns out, Frank (Henry Fonda of "Fort Apache") and his duster-clad henchmen show up ahead of Jill and massacre the entire McBain family. One of Frank's henchmen accidentally calls Frank by his name just as McBain's youngest son comes running out of the house. "Now that you've called me by name," Frank observes, pulls out his six-shooter, revolver and does something that never happens in westerns. He guns down the kid! Nobody but Sergio Leone would have had the balls to pull this off with one of America's greatest heroes masquerading as the epitome of evil. Moreover, the death of the child provides a transition to the arrival of the train with the whistle serving as the edit point.
Charles Bronson plays an enigmatic gunslinger called ‘Harmonica’ who keeps his six-gun tucked snugly in his waistband near the base of spine. He plays a harmonica like you have never heard a harmonica played. Whenever Harmonica (Bronson of "Red Sun") utters a word, it sounds like a classic line. In fact, there isn't a bad line of dialogue in the entire movie. Harmonica meets Cheyenne at the same time that Jill encounters him at a remote stagecoach station in the middle of John Ford's Monument Valley. Jill is on her way to meet the McBain's when the driver pulls up for a drink. Inside, Jill asks about a bath and the proprietor (Lionel Stander of "Beyond the Law") tells her that only three people have used it today. Altogether, she inquires contemptuously, or one at a time. About that time, Cheyenne (Jason Robards of "Hour of the Gun") makes the grandest entrance of everybody. A fusillade of gunplay sounds before he stumbles into the way station, gulps at a jug, and then has a man shoot off his shackles while he holds a gun on him. It seems that Cheyenne was being escorted to Yuma Prison but he got the drop on his captors and shot his way out. Harmonica takes a special interest in Cheyenne’s men and observes that he was met recently at the Cattle Corners railway depot by three men in dusters. Dusters were long leather coats that westerners wore that usually draped to their ankles. He adds that inside the men wearing the dusters were bullets. Cheyenne refuses to believe Harmonica because nobody has the ‘guts’ to wear dusters because everybody knows that only Cheyenne’s men wear them. Eventually, it comes out that Frank has tried to pin the death of Harmonica on Cheyenne.
Sergio Leone pours more style and substance in these 165 minutes than you can stand. There isn't a single thread of the plot that is left dangling (unless you watch a cut version of it on AMC) and everything fits together like a puzzle. "C'era una volta il West" was the first Spaghetti western to be filmed partially on location in the United States. The film is an indictment of big business, meaning the railroads, and railroad tycoon Morton (Gabriele Ferzetti of "On Her Majesty's Secret Service") serves as a visual metaphor for the corruption in the railroads with his bone cancer that forces him to walk with crutches or an overhead grid of poles that he can lower to enable him to walk around his railroad coach. Morton dreams of reaching the West coast with his railway. Frank acts as Morton's right-hand man and both men understand each other all too well. Without one the other could not exist.
Repeatedly, Leone serves up a flashback that has a younger but just as villainous Frank munching on an apple and sauntering through the desert with a sadistic grin on his face. Frank's idea of a good time is to hang the brother of one man by forcing him to stand on his little brother's shoulders. The older brother hangs only after the younger one has collapsed from the exhaustion of holding brother up. Before Frank leaves Harmonica with his older brother standing on his shoulders to his fate, the blue-eyed gunslinger tells Harmonica, “Keep your loving brother happy.” At that point, Frank wedges a harmonica between Harmonica’s teeth. It is only a matter of time before Harmonica can no longer hold up his brother and as Harmonica collapses under the weight of his brother, he blows a sour note through the harmonica that becomes a recurrent musical motif throughout the film. Harmonica grows up and embarks on revenge to kill Frank. One of the common characteristics that most ‘Spaghetti westerns’ share is the theme of revenge.
"C'era una volta il West" contains some of the coolest shoot-outs ever staged on-screen. “Spaghetti westerns’ made a ritual out of duels. The opening shoot-out at the isolated water stop—Cattle Corners--along a railroad in the desert is classic with three gunslingers waiting for the train to arrive. Jack Elam catches a fly in his gun barrel and listens to it buzz as a way to soothe his soul. Woody Strode stands under a water tower and lets water drip off it and collect in the rim on his Stetson. Al Mulock as 'Knuckles' cracks his knuckles in ways you could never imagine. This scene goes on and on and then Harmonica arrives and the showdown commences. There is another interesting shoot-out aboard a train as Cheyenne systemically kills the gunslingers in the train. At one point, he sneaks up on one gunman. Actually, the gunman thinks that he has the drop on Cheyenne because he sees Cheyenne’s boot descending in front of the window. It appears that Cheyenne is trying to climb from the roof of the moving train and enter the coach through a window without anybody knowing it. The gunman waits as the boot slides down the window and then the toe of the boot turns towards the gunman. An explosion erupts from the toe of the boot, and we watch in surprise as Cheyenne pulls his pistol out of the boot and scrambles back atop the moving train. The gunman turns to the camera with a bullet between the eyes and falls dead. In terms of scale, “Once Upon a Time in the West” looks immense. The scene when Jill gets off the train at Flagstone and waits for her husband to pick her up is simply incredible as the camera follows Jill and then ascends to show the entire town on the far side of the train depot. Leone loves to poke fun at some characters. There is a character named Wobbles (Marco Zuanelli) who is ridiculed because he wears a belt and a set of suspenders to hold them up. Just before Frank guns him down in cool blood, he observes that he cannot trust a man who doesn’t trust his own pants. Each of the main characters—Harmonica, Frank, and Cheyenne—interact with Jill. Frank wants to kill her. Cheyenne wants to love her. Every time that Cheyenne meets Jill at the Sweetwater home of Brett McBain, he asks her has she made coffee. Anybody who likes Spaghetti westerns must see "C'era una volta il West." The lip synchronization is 100per cent on the money with no discrepancies. The photography is flawless and costume design is marvelous. Interestingly, the closest that most Hollywood westerns can to the long, dark, duster coats that Leone's gunslinger sport were the rain slickers. "C'era una volta il West" was a smashing success overseas but a resounding flop in the United States. Since its’ debut in 1968, “Once Upon a Time in the West” has attained cult status and many famous directors call it an inspiration.
Afterward, the Spanish made several “Zorro” westerns and the Germans—adapting the novels of the Teutonic western novelist Karl May's Winnetou series—released several oaters with either British star Stewart Granger or America actor Lex Barker of “Tarzan” fame as the leads. The Winnetou westerns resembled pre-World War II westerns because they dealt with the relationships between whites and Native Americans on the frontier. Again, incredible as it may seem, the Europeans had been making westerns since the silent film days, and the Germans made westerns in the 1930s that looked like the American westerns with Gene Autry, except the plots were more adult and the dialogue was blue with profanity. A number of westerns that were chiefly imitations of American westerns were made between 1962 and 1963. Peplum director Sergio Leone changed everything with his low-budget western “A Fistful of Dollars” in 1964 starring an obscure American TV actor named Clint Eastwood and most westerns after “A Fistful of Dollars” were about the least sentimental character in the western genre—the bounty hunter—who roamed the west killing criminals with a price on their head. The Europeans were crazy about these westerns. Leone followed up his success with “For a Few Dollars More” (1966) with veteran Hollywood villain Lee Van Cleef joining Clint Eastwood in a duel of the bounty hunters plot. Lee Van Cleef’s popularity soon surpassed Clint Eastwood in Europe and Van Cleef made a string of successful westerns about a mysterious gambler/gunman named “Sabata.” Eventually, by the 1970s, the Italians stopped making serious shoot’em ups and turned to parodies, such as director Enzo Barboni’s “They Call Me Trinity” and “Trinity Is Still My Name.” Ironically, Enzo Barboni prompted Sergio Leone to watch the Japanese film “Yojimbo” about a wandering samurai warrior that inspired Leone to remake “Yojimbo” as “Fistful of Dollars.” Not to be outdone by the success of the “Trinity” movies that made obscure Venetian actor Mario Girotti into a superstar in Europe and especially in the southern United States, Leone produced “My Name is Nobody” with Mario Girotti who took the stage name of Terence Hill.
Sergio Leone's "Once Upon A Time in the West," a.k.a. "C'era una volta il West" (**** out of ****) qualifies as one of the all-time great westerns. Indeed, hands down, it ranks as the greatest Spaghetti western. This tale about railroad expansion in the old West holds its own against the best domestic westerns of prestigious American directors John Ford, Anthony Mann, Robert Aldrich, John Sturges, Budd Boetticher, and Henry Hathaway. Essentially, “Once Upon a Time in the West” is about the death of the west because of the coming of the railroad. The cast is first-rate with iconic western star Henry Fonda playing-against-type as a cold-blooded killer while gimlet-eyed heavy Charles Bronson wears the boots of the hero for a change. In between, Jason Robards is splendid as a bearded gunslinger named Cheyenne who has his own gang of killers, and Claudia Cardinale as the up-rooted New Orleans prostitute who comes west as a mail-order mail bride for Frank Wolff, usually a villain in Italian westerns. Although it clocks in at a mammoth 165 minutes, "C'era una volta il West" never wastes a minute in telling its vast story, complete with flashbacks. Sergio Leone surpasses anything that he did in any of his Clint Eastwood westerns. The complex screenplay by horror director Dario "Suspira" Argento, Bernard "Last Tango in Paris" Bertolucci, Sergio "The Big Gundown" Donati, and Sergio Leone contains several epic set-pieces that will never be equaled by anybody. Moreover, it features a sprawling plot. Ennio Morricone's orchestral score, which was finished before the first foot of film was shot, is a legendary in its own right with some unforgettable melodies.
The day that Jill McBain (Claudia Cardinale of "The Professionals") comes west from New Orleans to join Brett McBain (Frank Wolff of "God Forgives, But I Don't") at his house in the middle of nowhere, she arrives to find tragedy awaiting her. Ironically, the McBain house is located on a site called “Sweetwater,” but the water is anything but sweet when Jill shows up for a spectacle of horror. Brett, his two sons, and his only daughter are laid out on the very tables that Jill was to share a picnic welcoming her to their home. As it turns out, Frank (Henry Fonda of "Fort Apache") and his duster-clad henchmen show up ahead of Jill and massacre the entire McBain family. One of Frank's henchmen accidentally calls Frank by his name just as McBain's youngest son comes running out of the house. "Now that you've called me by name," Frank observes, pulls out his six-shooter, revolver and does something that never happens in westerns. He guns down the kid! Nobody but Sergio Leone would have had the balls to pull this off with one of America's greatest heroes masquerading as the epitome of evil. Moreover, the death of the child provides a transition to the arrival of the train with the whistle serving as the edit point.
Charles Bronson plays an enigmatic gunslinger called ‘Harmonica’ who keeps his six-gun tucked snugly in his waistband near the base of spine. He plays a harmonica like you have never heard a harmonica played. Whenever Harmonica (Bronson of "Red Sun") utters a word, it sounds like a classic line. In fact, there isn't a bad line of dialogue in the entire movie. Harmonica meets Cheyenne at the same time that Jill encounters him at a remote stagecoach station in the middle of John Ford's Monument Valley. Jill is on her way to meet the McBain's when the driver pulls up for a drink. Inside, Jill asks about a bath and the proprietor (Lionel Stander of "Beyond the Law") tells her that only three people have used it today. Altogether, she inquires contemptuously, or one at a time. About that time, Cheyenne (Jason Robards of "Hour of the Gun") makes the grandest entrance of everybody. A fusillade of gunplay sounds before he stumbles into the way station, gulps at a jug, and then has a man shoot off his shackles while he holds a gun on him. It seems that Cheyenne was being escorted to Yuma Prison but he got the drop on his captors and shot his way out. Harmonica takes a special interest in Cheyenne’s men and observes that he was met recently at the Cattle Corners railway depot by three men in dusters. Dusters were long leather coats that westerners wore that usually draped to their ankles. He adds that inside the men wearing the dusters were bullets. Cheyenne refuses to believe Harmonica because nobody has the ‘guts’ to wear dusters because everybody knows that only Cheyenne’s men wear them. Eventually, it comes out that Frank has tried to pin the death of Harmonica on Cheyenne.
Sergio Leone pours more style and substance in these 165 minutes than you can stand. There isn't a single thread of the plot that is left dangling (unless you watch a cut version of it on AMC) and everything fits together like a puzzle. "C'era una volta il West" was the first Spaghetti western to be filmed partially on location in the United States. The film is an indictment of big business, meaning the railroads, and railroad tycoon Morton (Gabriele Ferzetti of "On Her Majesty's Secret Service") serves as a visual metaphor for the corruption in the railroads with his bone cancer that forces him to walk with crutches or an overhead grid of poles that he can lower to enable him to walk around his railroad coach. Morton dreams of reaching the West coast with his railway. Frank acts as Morton's right-hand man and both men understand each other all too well. Without one the other could not exist.
Repeatedly, Leone serves up a flashback that has a younger but just as villainous Frank munching on an apple and sauntering through the desert with a sadistic grin on his face. Frank's idea of a good time is to hang the brother of one man by forcing him to stand on his little brother's shoulders. The older brother hangs only after the younger one has collapsed from the exhaustion of holding brother up. Before Frank leaves Harmonica with his older brother standing on his shoulders to his fate, the blue-eyed gunslinger tells Harmonica, “Keep your loving brother happy.” At that point, Frank wedges a harmonica between Harmonica’s teeth. It is only a matter of time before Harmonica can no longer hold up his brother and as Harmonica collapses under the weight of his brother, he blows a sour note through the harmonica that becomes a recurrent musical motif throughout the film. Harmonica grows up and embarks on revenge to kill Frank. One of the common characteristics that most ‘Spaghetti westerns’ share is the theme of revenge.
"C'era una volta il West" contains some of the coolest shoot-outs ever staged on-screen. “Spaghetti westerns’ made a ritual out of duels. The opening shoot-out at the isolated water stop—Cattle Corners--along a railroad in the desert is classic with three gunslingers waiting for the train to arrive. Jack Elam catches a fly in his gun barrel and listens to it buzz as a way to soothe his soul. Woody Strode stands under a water tower and lets water drip off it and collect in the rim on his Stetson. Al Mulock as 'Knuckles' cracks his knuckles in ways you could never imagine. This scene goes on and on and then Harmonica arrives and the showdown commences. There is another interesting shoot-out aboard a train as Cheyenne systemically kills the gunslingers in the train. At one point, he sneaks up on one gunman. Actually, the gunman thinks that he has the drop on Cheyenne because he sees Cheyenne’s boot descending in front of the window. It appears that Cheyenne is trying to climb from the roof of the moving train and enter the coach through a window without anybody knowing it. The gunman waits as the boot slides down the window and then the toe of the boot turns towards the gunman. An explosion erupts from the toe of the boot, and we watch in surprise as Cheyenne pulls his pistol out of the boot and scrambles back atop the moving train. The gunman turns to the camera with a bullet between the eyes and falls dead. In terms of scale, “Once Upon a Time in the West” looks immense. The scene when Jill gets off the train at Flagstone and waits for her husband to pick her up is simply incredible as the camera follows Jill and then ascends to show the entire town on the far side of the train depot. Leone loves to poke fun at some characters. There is a character named Wobbles (Marco Zuanelli) who is ridiculed because he wears a belt and a set of suspenders to hold them up. Just before Frank guns him down in cool blood, he observes that he cannot trust a man who doesn’t trust his own pants. Each of the main characters—Harmonica, Frank, and Cheyenne—interact with Jill. Frank wants to kill her. Cheyenne wants to love her. Every time that Cheyenne meets Jill at the Sweetwater home of Brett McBain, he asks her has she made coffee. Anybody who likes Spaghetti westerns must see "C'era una volta il West." The lip synchronization is 100per cent on the money with no discrepancies. The photography is flawless and costume design is marvelous. Interestingly, the closest that most Hollywood westerns can to the long, dark, duster coats that Leone's gunslinger sport were the rain slickers. "C'era una volta il West" was a smashing success overseas but a resounding flop in the United States. Since its’ debut in 1968, “Once Upon a Time in the West” has attained cult status and many famous directors call it an inspiration.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
FILM REVIEW OF ''RETURN OF THE SEVEN" (1966)
No, Burt Kennedy's "Return of the Seven" (***1/2 out of ****) doesn't surpass the classic John Sturges western "The Magnificent Seven." Remember, however, the Sturges film itself constituted a remake of Japanese director Akira Kurosawa's "The Seven Samurai." First, I contend that "The Magnificent Seven" is one of the top ten best westerns. Second, I get a kick out of watching "Return of the Seven" for its own modest virtues. This sagebrusher came about as a result of the sequel craze that hit Hollywood in the early 1960s. After the tension on the set of "The Magnificent Seven" with Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen refused to play second fiddle again to 'the King.' Anyway, McQueen's star was ascending, while Brynner's stardom was going into eclipse. The theatrical title of the Kennedy film is important, too, because it is "Return of the Seven" with the omission of the adjective "Magnificent." Indeed, Brynner is the only one who made it back for the sequel. McQueen refused to and Horst Buchholz had disappeared in Europe making other movies. Everybody else is practically brand new, except Emilio Fernández who had worked behind the scenes on the Sturges oater.
Mind you, around this time, the Europeans had spawned the so-called 'Spaghetti' western craze. Moreover, the Franco government in Spain was subsidizing filmmakers, and the rough-hewn Spanish scenery substituted more than adequately for the frontier American Southwest. When the scenery is more interesting to look at, the music stands out, and the corpses outnumber the horses ten-to-one, you know that you're watching a 'Spaghetti' western. Oh, yeah, if the dialogue isn't lip-synched, you know you're watching a 'Spaghetti' western. Consequently, the Mirish Production company must have felt that they could knock out a sequel very inexpensively in Spain. Reportedly, the Alicante location where they filmed "Return of the Seven" had not been used in a picture. Unquestionably, "Return of the Seven" looks like an epic western, and "Battleground" lenser Paul Vogel's cinematography is a feast for the eyes. Everybody looks really picturesque when they shoot their guns in this vigorous western. The moving camera scenes when Lorca and his gunmen charge the ruins of the church are cool. Burt Kennedy's "Seven" surpasses Sturges' "Seven" only in terms of its rugged, breath-taking scenery, Vogel's ace cinematography, and the lavish production values. Burt Kennedy stages some exceptional gunfights, but he cannot top the vintage Sturges shoot-outs.
"Return of the Seven" picks up years after the Sturges epic. An insane rancher decides to honor the memory of his two dead sons by abducting the farmers of several villages and having them build a shrine—a church—to commemorate his sons. Right off, "Return of the Seven" differs from "The Magnificent Seven." Francisco Lorca (Emilio Fernández of "The Wild Bunch") looms above all as a law unto himself, whereas Calvera (Eli Wallach) was a cunning, ruthless bandit that lived outside the law. These films have different villains. One of the villages that Lorca's men raid and enslave is Chico's village. Julian Mateos takes over the role that Horst Buchholz created.
The worst scene is the first between Chris (Yul Brynner) and Vin (Robert Fuller of "Laramie") at a bullfighting arena. Vin sidles up to Chris during a bullfight and makes up a story that he is looking to collect bounty on Chris. Scenarist Larry Cohen of the "It's Alive" trilogy could have contrived a better reunion scene. Although Cohen received credit for writing the screenplay, all the dialogue sounds like something that Burt Kennedy would have written for Randolph Scott on those Budd Boetticher westerns of the 1950s. My favorite line is when Chris and Vin meet again during a cockfighting tournament and talk about their luck rounding up candidates. Vin asks, "Are they any good?" Chris retors, "They're alive." Staying alive is what "Return of the Seven" is all about. Meanwhile, Cohen replays themes from the original. The villagers huddle in a rainy church and admit their fear of anything.
The cast differs obviously and so do the characters. Burt Kennedy's "Seven" is harsh, definitely less sentimental than the Sturges' "Seven." Some of these guys don't get along and grate on each other. Chris averts a gunfight between the loquacious Colbee (Warren Oates of "In The Heat of the Night") and the tight-lipped Frank (Claude Atkins of "A Man Called Sledge")during one campfire scene. "Is he faster than you, Chris," Frank asks. "I'd hate to have the live on the difference," Chris observes. I'd heard this line in "Rio Bravo," but it fares better here. Another great scene occurs earlier when Chris bribes the jailor (Ricardo Palacios) to let Frank out of jail. "He killed five men in a gunfight," complains the jailer about the amount of Chris' bribe. "I could make it six," growls Frank. The bargain is sealed. The dialogue in this scene compares with the dialogue in the Charles Bronson scene in the original "Seven."
This time the Seven face at least fifty gunmen, twenty or so more than in the first picture. Later, Lorca calls on the rest of his men at his faraway haciendo to come and the number rises to 200 guns. Interestingly, Chris gets not only Frank but also Luis Emilio Delgado (Vergílio Teixeira of "The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad") from the local jail. This anticipates the classic Lee Marvin war movie "The Dirty Dozen." Another scene that matched the original is the initial hero and the villains confrontation. Chris rides boldly into the construction site and demands the release of Chico and everybody else to the incredulity of Lorca's second-in-command Lopez (Rodolfo Acosta of "Rio Conchos") who replies, "I could have you shot like that." Lopez snaps. "There are six Winchesters pointed at your head." Chris is far more audacious here than he ever was in "The Magnificent Seven." Emilio Fernández is a splendid follow-up to Eli Wallach. In real life, Wallach was gentle, whereas Fernández was violent, handy with a gun, a gangsta of sorts. He looks like he means business as the villain in "Return of the Seven."
The core of the plot of "Return of the Seven" is pretty complicated stuff, too, There is nothing like it in "The Magnificent Seven." The theme here is an abusive father determined to have his way no matter what. Lorca has abducted hundreds of villagers to rebuild a church to honor the memory of his dead sons. The padre (Fernando Rey of "The French Connection") disagrees with Lorca's methods. Lorca and his men have shot villagers who fled from the project. As it turns out, Lorca's two sons hated their father. They were gentle and weak, not strong and brusque like their overbearing father. Indeed, Chris reveals in an expository dialogue scene with Vin that Lorca's sons had hired him to kill Lorca. On the other way, there is one scene that is clearly lifted from "The Magnificent Seven." Frank infiltrates the enemy camp like Horst Bucholtz did in "The Magnificent Seven" and brings back the bad news that Lorca has called on more men and guns. Like Yul Brynner, Elmer Bernstein encores his original Oscar nominated orchestral soundtrack and amazingly he received another nomination for it. If you haven't seen the first "Seven," you could swear that Bernstein created the score for the sequel!
FILM REVIEW OF "3:10 TO YUMA" (1957)
"Destination Tokyo" director Delmar Daves' "3:10 to Yuma" (1957) qualifies as one of the classic suspense westerns of the 1950s. Furthermore, in the larger context of westerns, this frontier drama follows in the boot falls of "High Noon" since it concerns a showdown between hero and villain based on a time deadline. Everything about this oater is solid and realistic with strong acting by a competent cast. Composer George Duning's haunting score heightens the tension in scenarist Halsted Welles' spartan screenplay. Welles' also penned another big western "The Hanging Tree" (1959) with Gary Cooper. Welles does an exceptional job of capturing the ironic essence of Leonard's short story, the first of the bestselling author's work to reach the big-screen.
"3:10 to Yuma" opens with a close-up of parched earth somewhere in the Arizona territory. The camera tilts up to show a stagecoach crossing the landscape in long shot and then the stage swings around toward the camera and its galloping six-horse team hauls the vehicle past the camera trailing a plume of dust. Daves concisely establishes in this one take the inhospitable nature of the surroundings. One of the themes is then man versus nature. Later, we learn that a drought has devastated the area. Seasoned lyricist Ned Washington's words--as sung by vocalist Frankie Lane at his most doleful--enhances this western. An entire sub-genre of sagebrushers emerged in the 1950s that opened with images of horsemen riding through the opening credits with singers such as Frankie Lane or Tex Ritter warbling an atmospheric theme song.
Glenn Ford makes a memorable entrance as ruthless but sardonic outlaw Ben Wade. The notorious Wade gang hold up a stagecoach. During the robbery, the stage driver gets the drop on the Wade gang member atop the coach and shoves a gun into his back. The brave driver threatens to kill the Wade gang member if the outlaws don't cease and desist. No sooner has he delivered his ultimatum than Wade himself rides up and guns down his own man and the stage driver.
The hero of "3:10 to Yuma" is a small potatoes rancher, Dan Evans (Van Heflin of "Shane") who is waging a losing battle against nature for lack of rain. Dan's cattle are dying, and all our hero requires is $200 dollars so he can obtain six months water rights from a nearby rancher. Unfortunately, Dan is dirt poor. Furthermore, he is stubborn and self-reliant and balks at the idea of seeking a loan from the bank. There is nothing flashy about Heflin's performance or wardrobe. Truly, he is a hero behind the 8-ball.
After the Wade gang rob the Butterfield Stage Company of a gold shipment, they gallop brazenly into Bisbee, Arizona Territory, to alert the local constabulary about the hold-up. In the saloon, where they are drinking, they explain that they couldn't thwart the thieves. The marshal (Ford Rainy of "Flaming Star") gathers a posse, but one of them, the town drunk Alex Potter (Henry Jones of "Vertigo"), is late and rides out after the posse has left. Meanwhile, Wade disperses his gang across the border and tells them to rendezvous with him in Nogales. Wade hangs around the saloon to sweet talk young beautiful Emmy (Felicia Farr of "Charlie Varrick") and they get romantic. During this interval, the posse run into Dan and the Butterfield Stage owner. They describe the gang and the marshal realizes then that the cattle drovers back at the saloon were the Wade gang. Alex rides up and tells them that the drovers left town but one of them stayed. The posse heads back to town. Dan distracts Wade in the saloon while the marshal sneaks up behind him and arrests him. The Butterfield Stage owner (Robert Emhardt of "The Stone Killer") offers $200 to anybody that will help escort Wade to the train station for the titular three-ten to Yuma. Initially, Dan refuses but decides that the $200 dollars is worth the risk. Nobody else wants to get in on the money except Henry Potter. For the remainder of the movie, Dan and Wade share the upstairs bridal suite in the hotel while they await the train. Wade's second-in-command Charlie Prince (Richard Jaeckel of "The Dirty Dozen") rides off to prepare a reception for our hero and Wade. Eventually, the gang capture Henry Potter and string him up in the hotel. During the suspenseful wait in the hotel, Ben Wade begins to have a grudging admiration for Dan Evans. When they make dash for the train, Ben actually helps Dan out and they get aboard the train unscathed. Although this ending has been called implausible, I don't think it is anything of the sort. Ben Wade is a dangerous, egotistical killer who has the attitude of a cat playing with a mouse. He is so confident of himself that he plays along with Dan, helps him against his own gang, but ultimately you know that Ben Wade is never going to serve a day in jail. He proved at the beginning that he was willing to kill one of his own men.
"3:10 to Yuma" isn't the first time that Glenn Ford played a villainous killer. He portrayed a corrupt, maniacal judge in "The Man from Colorado," and before that he specialized in bad guys that turned good in westerns, like "Texas" and "The Desperados." Charles Lawton's stark black and white photography combined with striking camera angles that thrust us into the vortex of the action go a long way toward making the action palatable. Eventually, this drama boils down to two men shut up in an upstairs hotel room as they wait for the arrival of the "3:10 to Yuma" train. Daves and Lawton generate a lot of suspense throughout this western but none more tangible than at the end when our hero and villain approach the puffing train and are obscured by clouds of the steam while the outlaw gang stalk them
"3:10 to Yuma" opens with a close-up of parched earth somewhere in the Arizona territory. The camera tilts up to show a stagecoach crossing the landscape in long shot and then the stage swings around toward the camera and its galloping six-horse team hauls the vehicle past the camera trailing a plume of dust. Daves concisely establishes in this one take the inhospitable nature of the surroundings. One of the themes is then man versus nature. Later, we learn that a drought has devastated the area. Seasoned lyricist Ned Washington's words--as sung by vocalist Frankie Lane at his most doleful--enhances this western. An entire sub-genre of sagebrushers emerged in the 1950s that opened with images of horsemen riding through the opening credits with singers such as Frankie Lane or Tex Ritter warbling an atmospheric theme song.
Glenn Ford makes a memorable entrance as ruthless but sardonic outlaw Ben Wade. The notorious Wade gang hold up a stagecoach. During the robbery, the stage driver gets the drop on the Wade gang member atop the coach and shoves a gun into his back. The brave driver threatens to kill the Wade gang member if the outlaws don't cease and desist. No sooner has he delivered his ultimatum than Wade himself rides up and guns down his own man and the stage driver.
The hero of "3:10 to Yuma" is a small potatoes rancher, Dan Evans (Van Heflin of "Shane") who is waging a losing battle against nature for lack of rain. Dan's cattle are dying, and all our hero requires is $200 dollars so he can obtain six months water rights from a nearby rancher. Unfortunately, Dan is dirt poor. Furthermore, he is stubborn and self-reliant and balks at the idea of seeking a loan from the bank. There is nothing flashy about Heflin's performance or wardrobe. Truly, he is a hero behind the 8-ball.
After the Wade gang rob the Butterfield Stage Company of a gold shipment, they gallop brazenly into Bisbee, Arizona Territory, to alert the local constabulary about the hold-up. In the saloon, where they are drinking, they explain that they couldn't thwart the thieves. The marshal (Ford Rainy of "Flaming Star") gathers a posse, but one of them, the town drunk Alex Potter (Henry Jones of "Vertigo"), is late and rides out after the posse has left. Meanwhile, Wade disperses his gang across the border and tells them to rendezvous with him in Nogales. Wade hangs around the saloon to sweet talk young beautiful Emmy (Felicia Farr of "Charlie Varrick") and they get romantic. During this interval, the posse run into Dan and the Butterfield Stage owner. They describe the gang and the marshal realizes then that the cattle drovers back at the saloon were the Wade gang. Alex rides up and tells them that the drovers left town but one of them stayed. The posse heads back to town. Dan distracts Wade in the saloon while the marshal sneaks up behind him and arrests him. The Butterfield Stage owner (Robert Emhardt of "The Stone Killer") offers $200 to anybody that will help escort Wade to the train station for the titular three-ten to Yuma. Initially, Dan refuses but decides that the $200 dollars is worth the risk. Nobody else wants to get in on the money except Henry Potter. For the remainder of the movie, Dan and Wade share the upstairs bridal suite in the hotel while they await the train. Wade's second-in-command Charlie Prince (Richard Jaeckel of "The Dirty Dozen") rides off to prepare a reception for our hero and Wade. Eventually, the gang capture Henry Potter and string him up in the hotel. During the suspenseful wait in the hotel, Ben Wade begins to have a grudging admiration for Dan Evans. When they make dash for the train, Ben actually helps Dan out and they get aboard the train unscathed. Although this ending has been called implausible, I don't think it is anything of the sort. Ben Wade is a dangerous, egotistical killer who has the attitude of a cat playing with a mouse. He is so confident of himself that he plays along with Dan, helps him against his own gang, but ultimately you know that Ben Wade is never going to serve a day in jail. He proved at the beginning that he was willing to kill one of his own men.
"3:10 to Yuma" isn't the first time that Glenn Ford played a villainous killer. He portrayed a corrupt, maniacal judge in "The Man from Colorado," and before that he specialized in bad guys that turned good in westerns, like "Texas" and "The Desperados." Charles Lawton's stark black and white photography combined with striking camera angles that thrust us into the vortex of the action go a long way toward making the action palatable. Eventually, this drama boils down to two men shut up in an upstairs hotel room as they wait for the arrival of the "3:10 to Yuma" train. Daves and Lawton generate a lot of suspense throughout this western but none more tangible than at the end when our hero and villain approach the puffing train and are obscured by clouds of the steam while the outlaw gang stalk them
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