The Greatest Trick

Last year, the western made an unexpected, welcome and surprisingly strong return, which included Seraphim Falls, 3:10 to Yuma and – best of all – The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford; the best in its genre since Unforgiven. Unfortunately, Appaloosa is not of the same calibre. It’s a decent enough picture, but falls considerably short of greatness.

The plot concerns two gunfighters Virgil (Ed Harris) and Hitch (Viggo Mortensen) who are hired to protect a small town from the ruthless rancher Bragg (Jeremy Irons). Events are complicated by the arrival of piano player Allison French (Renee Zellweger), with whom Virgil falls in love. However, she turns out to be not quite as virtuous as she first appears.

Ed Harris, making his directorial debut in adapting Robert Parker’s novel, tries very hard, and unfortunately, that’s the feeling one gets in watching. This is especially true given the endless references to classic westerns. For example, when Renee Zellweger steps off the train at the beginning, there are deliberate echoes of Once upon a time in the West. But instead of merely noting this affectionate reference, I found myself wishing I was watching that instead. There are other nods to the likes of My Darling Clementine and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and consequently for the first half at least, nothing feels particularly original.

The second half improves somewhat, as the characters gain complexity, especially Viggo Mortensen’s Hitch. But the third act loses focus so that when the inevitable final shootout takes place, it seems to come out of nowhere. To be fair, Harris manages to show off the landscape well, making good use of widescreen, but he lacks the genuine flair of the great western directors (John Ford, Clint Eastwood, Sergio Leone, etc). One wishes he could have concentrated more on his performance, as I know he is capable of better.

Viggo Mortensen’s performance is more noteworthy, despite the presence of some rather silly facial hair. And although Renee Zellweger is initially unconvincing, she greatly improves in the second half. Unfortunately, Jeremy Irons’ underwritten role lacks the necessary menace in the role of the villainous Bragg, and the excellent Timothy Spall’s bumbling town official is sorely underused.

All in all, for fans of westerns this is a welcome diversion, but sadly nothing more. Obviously I should add the routine cautions for violence and some swearing, but nothing seemed hugely inappropriate given the context.

Simon Dillon, September 2008.

It’s been a vintage year for westerns. Not only have we had the hugely underrated Seraphim Falls and 3:10 to Yuma remake but also The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford – unquestionably the greatest contribution to the genre since Unforgiven, and a potential classic. Haunting, elegiac and staggeringly beautiful, this is one of the most visually stunning films in recent memory. Writer/director Andrew Dominik has crafted a mesmerising tapestry of unforgettable and often unique imagery in his bold retelling of the Jesse James story.

It is worth noting from the outset that this is not a film for everyone. It has been criticized in certain quarters for being long, ponderous and dull. Frankly, I feel sorry for anyone who feels that way, as they really don’t know what they are missing. Yes, the pace is slow, but it’s never boring. Patience is required but those who stick with it will be richly rewarded. Personally, I was riveted right up to its superb final frame and came away wanting more, despite its 160 minute running time.

Robert Ford (Casey Affleck), who has idolized Jesse James (Brad Pitt) since childhood, tries hard to join his gang. But when the eponymous outlaw decides to disband his Missouri outfit following one last train robbery, his gradual deterioration into melancholy and paranoia leads to tragedy. Ford becomes increasingly resentful, and his hero worship turns sour, eventually leading to the legendary killing summarised in the film’s title.

Essentially it’s not so much what happens but how it happens that makes this film so remarkable. It’s held together by superb, Oscar-worthy turns from the leads. Brad Pitt gives a career-best performance which strips back the Jesse James legend and portrays him as a charismatic but tormented man haunted by a life of crime. His brooding silences, childish giggling and sudden outbursts of frightening violence make him terrifyingly unpredictable. Yet sympathy for the character is still generated through his love for his wife and children, not to mention audience knowledge that he is doomed. The ambiguous, haunted look in Pitt’s eyes hints that he knows this too.

On the other hand, Casey Affleck is just as good as Robert Ford, if not better. In his very first scene, Jesse’s elder brother Frank (Sam Shepard) says to Ford “there’s something about you that makes my skin crawl”. Affleck ensures his character is genuinely creepy and his descent into disillusionment is utterly convincing. He by turns loves hates and is terrified by his idol. At one point, Jesse says to him “I can’t make up my mind if you want to be like me or to be me.” Ford’s obsession is such that there are also hints of a homo-erotic subtext.

The supporting cast are all given opportunities to shine, including Mary Louise Parker as Jesse’s wife Zee. The other members of Jesse’s gang all get plenty of screen time too. Sam Rockwell is terrific as Ford’s comparatively sensible older brother Charley, Jeremy Renner’s Wood Hite is suitably tough and Garret Dillahunt takes Ed Miller beyond the initial simpleton stereotype and generates considerable sympathy for the character. Paul Schneider has a memorable turn as Dick Liddil whose womanising causes divisions within the gang that end in murder, and Hugh Ross’ narration is spot-on.

As I’ve already mentioned, this is an absolutely gorgeous film to look at. Roger Deakins’ phenomenal widescreen cinematography often uses a superb blurring effect around the edges of shots, giving the film the hazy feel of a half remembered dream. The magnificent vistas include desolate snow covered plains, forests, mountains, sepia-hued towns interspersed by convincingly muddy roads and a stunningly vivid image of a train appearing out of total darkness as it approaches the silhouetted figure of Jesse James. On a technical level, everything else from the use of sound to the crisp editing is nigh-on perfect, and the music by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis compliments the drama perfectly (Cave also scored recent Aussie western The Proposition to terrific effect).

Although The Assassination of Jesse James contains themes common to westerns, such as criminals whose pasts finally catch up with them, it is also, like Unforgiven, a deconstruction of western mythology. One early scene shows members of Jesse’s gang laughing at Ford’s expense after discovering a stash of penny dreadful Jesse James books under his bed. Ford is mortified, but remains every bit as infatuated. This gives the film additional resonance in our celebrity obsessed culture and on a spiritual level is something of an understated but powerful warning about the dangers of idolatry.

In final analysis, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford is a bleak, brooding but magnificent film that absolutely has to be seen on a big screen to be properly appreciated. It was actually released a couple of weeks ago and has not been a big hit, so see it now before it disappears from cinemas.

Oh, and for those who appreciate warnings about such things, the film contains some strong violence, occasional swearing and what the BBFC calls “sexual references”.

Simon Dillon, December 2007.

These days, westerns are a bit like buses. After waiting for ages, two turn up. Mere weeks after the massively underrated Seraphim Falls comes another tale of the Wild West, albeit a more traditional one shorn of the former’s supernatural weirdness.

3:10 to Yuma is a rare example of a remake surpassing the original. The 1957 picture was a tense, tight affair, itself based on a short story by Elmore Leonard, but Walk the Line director James Mangold gives it a surprisingly effective new lease of life.

Struggling rancher Dan Evans (Christian Bale) is failing to pay his bills, and is given days to pay up or he’ll lose his property. But after notorious wanted criminal Ben Wade (Russell Crowe) is captured, Evans volunteers to be part of a detail escorting him to a train that will take him to Yuma to face trial. Because Wade’s gang are still loose, it is likely those with him will be killed, but because Evans needs the money, he decides to take the risk.

Thematically similar to High Noon, this follows the plot of the original film to begin with, but makes a few significant additions and deviations in the second half, and it is all the better for it. These additions include an exciting chase on a railroad construction site, a deadly night ambush during an ill-advised detour through hostile Apache territory, and an interesting character arc for Evans’ angry 14-year-old son William, who, after years of disillusionment thinking his father is a spineless burn-out, gradually comes to respect him.

Russell Crowe, in the Glen Ford role from the original, is superb. Despite being a despicable thief and murderer, his humanity is hinted at throughout – whether through drawing pictures, showing sensitivity to women, or developing a grudging respect for Evans’ mans-gotta-do-what-a-mans-gotta-do determination. Evans himself provides another superb opportunity for Christian Bale to exercise his considerable acting muscles, and by the end of the film Van Heflin’s performance in the same role from the original has all but faded from memory.

The supporting cast includes Peter Fonda as Byron – an embittered, Bible-bashing, tough-as-nails lawman who has tracked Wade for years. Ben Foster is frighteningly vicious as Wade’s right hand man Charlie Prince, Gretchen Mol does very well in what is essentially a one-note imperilled wife role and Dallas Roberts is fine as Grayson Butterfield, a railroad representative. But it is Logan Lerman’s terrific performance as pivotal character Williams that is most praiseworthy among the smaller roles.

Like the original, this version of 3:10 to Yuma could well prove a minor classic of the genre. Certainly based on one viewing it is an exciting, thoughtful reinterpretation of the earlier film. Like High Noon, the original had an anti-McCarthy message and the screenwriters wisely retain these overtones, since they always have contemporary relevance. In addition, if you can stomach the brutal violence, this extols old fashioned, politically incorrect notions such as honour, sacrifice and even hints at Christian redemption. At their best, westerns were allegorical morality plays, and in that sense, this is truly a film about which one can say, “they don’t make ‘em like that any more.”

Simon Dillon, September 2007.

Westerns are undoubtedly America’s outstanding contribution to world cinema, but these days there are hardly any and their quality varies greatly. Seraphim Falls, however, is absolutely terrific. This tense, hugely underrated picture has flopped just about everywhere, so I strongly encourage tracking it down now before it disappears from the big screen.

Three years after the American civil war, former Union officer Gideon (Pierce Brosnan) is being relentlessly hunted in the wilderness by a posse led by former Confederate Carver (Liam Neeson). In the riveting opening sequence, Gideon is ambushed in the mountains, and ends up with a bullet in the arm. To evade capture, he dives into an icy river, falls down a waterfall, and once on the other side of the river, desperately struggles to light a fire before he freezes to death. Then he performs an excruciatingly painful bit of impromptu surgery which will have audiences squirming in their seats. This extremely strong sequence sets the tone for this riveting revenge western, essentially a long chase punctuated by vignettes that illustrate Carver and Gideon’s metaphorical descent into hell.

Carver is obsessed with killing Gideon to the point where he is prepared to sacrifice members of his own posse and even innocent parties who get in the way. Just what Gideon has done to deserve this is not known until near the end of the film, but along the way it becomes clear he is an extremely dangerous man, albeit one reluctant to kill unless absolutely necessary. As such, one is kept guessing throughout which of the two are good and bad. And even when the reason for Carver’s revenge quest is revealed, the story takes a curious, quasi-Biblical turn in which not only these men’s lives are at stake, but also their souls.

Brosnan and Neeson both contribute excellent performances, but it is Brosnan who walks away with the film, taking another deliberate step away from James Bond. The other characters don’t get much of a look in, but there are a smattering of interesting minor supporting roles, especially amongst Carver’s posse who eventually realise too late just what lengths their employer will go to.

Director David Von Ancken obviously knows the genre well and extensively references westerns including tough 1950’s Anthony Mann pictures like The Naked Spur or The Man from Laramie, as well as Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven, The Outlaw Josey Wales and even the more mystically edged High Plains Drifter. The opening scenes in the snow capped mountains also have gentle echoes of Sergio Corbucci’s rarely shown and hugely underrated spaghetti western The Big Silence.

Speaking of landscapes, cinematographer John Toll makes superb use of widescreen space. From frozen mountains to parching deserts, the spectacular locations will lose much on a television screen. What is particularly gratifying is the merciful absence of CGI augmentations. The barren, hostile plains depicted in this film have no such need for computer generated enhancements.

The pace flags slightly towards the end of the story, where the film begins to get bogged down in slightly overwrought religious metaphors. Yet these are nevertheless intriguing. Characters appear that could be interpreted as God and the Devil – an Indian by a waterhole and female peddler respectively (her wagon is marked “Louis C Fair”). The Indian tries offer Carver and Gideon life in the form of horses and water. He even makes enigmatic statements like “whatever is yours will come back to you”, presumably a warning about the futility of vengeance, and an encouragement for Carver to let Gideon go. On the other hand, the peddler offers bullets in return for horses, trading chances for escaping the desert for the chance to kill one another, thus selling their souls and keeping them in “hell”. The message is heavy handed but clear: Carver and Gideon are damned because of unforgiveness.

The curiously ambiguous ending can be read a number of ways, both as positive and negative. At first, I didn’t find it satisfying, but the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced it was the correct way to end the film.

In short, for those among you who like westerns and don’t have a problem with some strong violence, gore and occasional swearing, this is a must-see.

Simon Dillon, September 2007.

These days, westerns are like buses. You’re waiting ages for one, then suddenly three turn up. If like me you’re a fan of the genre, this ought to be great news. Unfortunately, Brokeback Mountain wasn’t really a western (nor was it enjoyable), The Proposition was set in Australia so it shouldn’t count, but Tommy Lee Jones directorial debut The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada is most definitely a proper western, albeit one set in the present.

When ranch hand Pete Perkins discovers his Mexican friend Melquiades Estrada has been shot and left in a shallow grave near the border, he sets about investigating who perpetrated the crime. However, the local sheriff is indifferent, and buries the Mexican in an inaccurately marked grave since he was a “wetback” (illegal immigrant). Despite this, eventually Pete discovers the identity of the killer; a border patrolman named Mike Norton who the other border police are covering up for. Furious at the authorities turning a blind eye, Pete takes the law into his own hands, exhuming his friend for a journey to Mexico where he asked to be buried, should he ever die in the US. Pete also kidnaps Mike and forces him to take the journey with him.

Tommy Lee Jones directs with an effective leisurely simplicity very much in the style of Clint Eastwood. Legendary cinematographer Chris Menges does a terrific job shooting beautiful border locations, and Guillermo Arriaga’s screenplay is as excellent as his previous work on the likes of Amores Perros. The performances are good, especially from Barry Pepper (the religious sharpshooter from Saving Private Ryan) as Mike Norton. January Jones (from Love Actually) also lends fine support as his neglected wife, Lou Ann. But man-of-the-match obviously goes to Tommy Lee Jones, both as an actor and director, and his subtle, understated turn as Pete Perkins provides the enigmatic heart of this unusually good picture.

This is very much a film of two halves. The first is told with multiple flashbacks, showing the different points of view on the murder, plus explaining the backgrounds of Melquiades and Mike. Melquiades had left his wife and children in Mexico for reasons unknown, whereupon Pete hired him and their unlikely friendship developed. On the other hand, Mike came to the town with his young, pretty, fish-out-of-water wife, having been assigned to border patrol. At first he is brutal, stand-offish, and thoroughly unpleasant, even though the shooting of Melquiades turns out to be accidental.

However, in the second half of the film, Mike’s character gradually changes, as he realises the nature of what he has done and comes to regret it. This is a story of redemption, and the film’s message seems to be that whist all of the characters are flawed, none of them are beyond salvation. From a Christian standpoint the film is a powerful, hopeful meditation on repentance and forgiveness containing several vivid images which illustrate these points. One sequence where Mike tries to escape from Pete on their journey to Mexico is particularly interesting. Pete simply lets him run away, knowing that because he is on horseback, he cannot escape. Several amusing shots show Mike desperately running and Pete calming trailing behind on his horse a few feet away. Eventually Mike gives up. This is a superb picture of the futility of running away from God, who will always hold all of us to account for what we have done.

However, the positive Christian messages are negated somewhat by the depictions of adultery in the first half of the film. Incidental to the plot is that almost every character is having affairs, many of them openly with their spouses simply not caring. To be fair, this adultery is a plot device that illustrates the compromised and indifferent attitudes of the sleepy border town. But having Pete participate in them saps audience belief in his moral integrity with regard to his insistence that his friend be properly buried. During the story he says he “doesn’t want to offend” God, but later tries to convince his lover Rachel (who he knows has affairs with other men besides him), to run away with him to Mexico. Of course you could argue that this simply makes him a complex, flawed character, but it also makes him a hypocrite and undermines the moral message of the film.

That aside, there is a little violence, plenty of swearing, and – as previously alluded to –sexual content that will put some Christians off despite the overall positive message. It’s also not a film for everyone; some will find it slow, and possibly confusing in the first half. However, if you stick with it, The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada is an immensely dramatic, thoughtful, darkly funny, poignant and rewarding experience.

Simon Dillon, April 2006.

There’s a warning at the beginning of The Proposition stating that Aborigines may find the film offensive. Given how staggeringly violent this brilliant but politically incorrect film is, Aborigines won’t be the only ones potentially heading for the exits. I, on the other hand, must guiltily confess to enjoying every blood soaked minute.

Ostensibly an Australian western, The Proposition is a very different…er…proposition from the morality tales of John Ford, or even the bloodbaths of Sam Peckinpah. Director John Hillcoat paints an unremittingly grim, nihilistic yet strangely lyrical and beautiful picture of an Australia not yet tamed; the Wild Down Under, for want of a better expression.

Ray Winstone plays Captain Stanley, the sometimes brutal yet essentially decent lawman who catches bandits Charlie and Mike Burns, two of three notorious brothers. Instead of hanging them both, he releases the middle brother Charlie (Guy Pierce) telling him his younger brother will be hanged by Christmas Day unless he finds and kills Arthur, the older brother who is guilty of a horrific rape and triple murder.

Charlie reluctantly agrees, but will he really betray his older brother to save the younger? This central dilemma unfolds in an almost Shakespearean fashion, but with a staggering amount of violence and relentless pessimism. I am no fan of screenwriter Nick Cave’s music (far too bleak for my tastes), but he has fashioned a brutal yet eloquent screenplay. The rich atmosphere is also complemented by a fine cast. Ray Winstone is superb as a man desperate to “civilise this land”, whilst at the same time mollycoddling his well-to-do wife Martha (the always excellent Emily Watson). Richard Wilson (not the Richard Wilson from One Foot in the Grave) and Danny Huston are very good as the younger and older Burns brothers respectively, and there’s an amusing, hilariously OTT cameo from John Hurt as an embittered, cynical bounty hunter. The only false note comes from David Wenham’s one-dimensional Pommie Eden Fletcher.

But the film really belongs to Guy Pierce, whose melancholy brooding and ambivalent performance glues the story together. Proving once again how far he has come since appearing in Neighbours, this is the latest in a remarkable slew of first-rate performances from LA Confidential to Memento and now this. He is a fantastic actor who just seems to get better and better.

However, it must be said that despite my love for westerns, I cannot recommend this film to anyone. For a start, its violence will prove prohibitive to all but the strongest stomachs. One particular flogging scene attempts to match The Passion of the Christ for sheer brutality, as townsfolk gather to watch a young man being lashed to a bloody pulp. Sitting through this scene, one feels as luridly complicit in the brutal punishment, as those standing watching.

But it isn’t so much the violence that caused me problems as much as its relentlessly pessimistic and explicitly anti-Christian worldview and those familiar with the compositions of Nick Cave are unlikely to be surprised by this. Given how few and far between westerns are these days, I found it a shame that despite being something of a guilty pleasure, I will not be adding this film to my collection when it comes out on DVD. Despite being an undoubted work of art, it can’t be described as “noble, lovely or true” – the criteria given in the Bible for what Christians should fill their minds with.

However, I do predict The Proposition is destined to become a cult classic.

Simon Dillon, March 2006.