Marlina the Murderer in Four Acts. The old lonesome house, and our weary protagonist, reminded me of Unforgiven. So much western goodness: Leone-esque desert wah wah guitar, church bells, lonesome trumpets; lone figures in a heat-rippled landscape; swords at the ready at the hip or hand like pistols, or resting across a saddle. Interesting gender themes: entitlement, absentee parents, naming children, pregnancy rumors and shaming. Birth scene seems an echo of early trauma. See also: Revenge, MFA, A Vigilante, Kill Bill: Vol. 1, Kill Bill: Vol. 2, etc..
Stagecoach. It is every bit as good as you’ve heard. Really wish I hadn’t ignored the praise for so long. I like these movies where a loosely-tied cast of characters get thrown together. Made me think of Mad Max: Fury Road, if taken down to a crisp 90 minutes. The pacing sweeps you up. I wasn’t expecting a love story, too!
Bone Tomahawk. It’s a western and a horror film. I shouldn’t have to sell it more than that, but I’ll add that it has a script that just blew my mind. So funny, so sharp. There’s some thematic richness, too, in how these characters (all pretty well-drawn) manage what they face together (some, uh, seriously horrific stuff – fair warning). So pleasantly surprised with this movie. I need a rewatch!
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. Such a lovely mix in this movie. You’ve got one-liners, goofball slapstick, melodrama, real drama. Those mournful interludes on the Civil War battlefront hit hard this time around. :’(
I love these drawings by Delmer Daves for his adaptation of the 1957 3:10 to Yuma. It makes me so happy to see these things sketched out and then see how they really came to life, just like they had in mind.
3:10 to Yuma (2007). Well, Russell Crowe is no Glenn Ford, but who is. Loved the original movie, which fleshes out the very short story really well. This movie adds in a bit too much extra material for me, which dissipates the tension. Good, though. Themes of pride, circumstance, honor. Love this line on insurance/forced retirement, basically: “They weren’t paying me to walk away; they were paying me so they could walk away.” Filed under: westerns.
The Salvation. I feel like Mads Mikkelsen’s face was just begging to be put in a Western. This one sometimes feels like it was assembled from a western-movie kit, but has some really good moments – I particularly like the conversation with the priest in the jail, the parallel funerals, and a silent escape on a train.
I read Elmore Leonard’s Three-Ten to Yuma, and Other Stories because I really liked the old movie that was based on the title story. The others are similarly brisk and evocative of more than they say explicitly. This was a great fit with my current reading cycle. Some small tasty bits to shake things up between a couple longer ones.
Meek’s Cutoff. The opening scene has the cast fording a waist-deep river – rushing water taking over the soundtrack – and you sense that’s about as good as it’s gonna get for a while. I love the contrast between the hot bright sunny bleached-out days, and the nights where you can see absolutely nothing but what fire’s light touches. And the square frame makes things feel a bit more fraught somehow. Over and over we see women hanging back while men deliberate their course. (Often with men in long shot, conversations barely audible, while the women get the close-ups and mediums.) And look where it gets them. By the end, it’s time to try something new. Fingers crossed.
Kelly Reichardt’s movies Night Moves and Old Joy are also really good. Wendy & Lucy is still on my list.
Once Upon a Time in the West. Welp. It’s perfect. This was my second time seeing it all the way through (my first), and I was very lucky to catch it on the big screen. Two things that stood out for me more this time around….
One, the operatic heightening. Straight out of opera, each major character gets a leitmotif in the soundtrack, they’re all introduced in a different way to draw attention to their role, and they’re all pretty unambiguous archetypes: villain, hero, buffoon, hooker with heart of gold. And dang, that score.
Two, the recurring hints about time. The movie opens with a shot of a rail schedule, then shifts to a comically, absurdly extended introduction marked by dripping water and creaking windmills. The anxious father who wants to be ready for his beloved’s arrival. Watches checked, appointments made. A capitalist who wants to reach the Pacific coast before his death. A railroad station that must be built on a deadline. Fancy clocks in the financier’s railcar. The clockface in town during a shoot-out. And battles that the hero faces are a sort of countdown: three assassins, then two, then one.