7 posts tagged “western”
I'm slowly slipping up my own ass. Apologies, but sometimes when you get passionate about something, you get a bit verbose. Anyway, here's the review, unedited, and unspellchecked, as I'm too lazy install my old copy of Word onto my laptop:
The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
Assassination is no mere killing. It takes such tawdry events and elevates them to something with real significance, be it ideology or politic. Andrew Dominik’s melancholic epic The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, takes this a stage further, playing with our understanding of this unwieldy and seemingly explanatory title over some two hours plus of slow moving, yet transfixing filmmaking.
At the centre of this is the strange relationship between Jesse James (Brad Pitt) and the much younger, Robert Ford (Casey Affleck), who had become entranced by the mythology built up around this man by the dimestore novels and newspaper articles of the time. There is an immediate sense of unease as Ford seeks him out, wheedling his way into the celebrated outlaw’s gang, against the wishes of the more perceptive, elder James brother, Frank (Sam Shepard).
And yet Dominik concentrates on this attraction between these two men, sidelining those closest to him. Jesse's wife Zee (Mary-Louise Parker) is almost invisible while Frank disappears soon after the train robbery, a shared look between the brothers telling a perceptive audience all they need to know. Times have changed for Jesse. The ties are cut with the better days of his past in Frank and the potential of a better future in Zee. Jesse's gang, a once proud, and loyal group of ex-guerilla fighters are gone, replaced by the whoring, the dull-witted and the conspriatorial.
There is almost a sense that this is really Ford's fantasy. The early train robbery seemingly a construct of a potent imagination, transformed into an encounter between black knight and dragon, its presence, initially a slow, low throb, growing into a howling ember spitting monster that cuts the night in two. It’s a riveting scene. even more so for what follows. For just as we are initially taken by the charisma of Jesse, his foul, unnecessarily violent treatment of the bank guard knocks us back a step. In fact Jesse seems almost addicted to his felonies, rejeuvenated by the excitement and violence, and deathly bored by the periods of fallow.
Instead of this being a simple tale of early media obsession in Western form, the film posits Ford and Jesse as mythologically entwined, almost biblically. Affleck, startling, as this sickly angelic bundle of dichotomies; bold, yet timid, emfeebled yet strong. Pitt's Jesse is distanced as the figure of worship, shot through antiquated lenses as a foggy figure in history, almost a God, and a primal one at that, draped in furs and prone to explosive anger. It's a commanding performance, and though charismatic as most leads, he is also able to articulate the the mystic in Jesse, seemingly existing outside this reality, playing with the wonderful language of the script, his eyes fixed on the endless stars or the spaces behind the ice on a frozen lake.
Certainly charges of artistic extravagance could be made against Dominik, with the supreme talents of cinematographer Roger Deakins articulated in the grey and sepia of the landscape and the seemingly countless shots of lonely rocking chairs and whispering corn during the film's languid second act, but it is the same shorthand used by such luminaries as Malick and it serves to capture the elusiveness of Jesse, as if he were more spirit than substance, flitting from place to place, forever escaping incarceration lest it be one of his own making.
Dominik intoxicates us during this lulling, yet captivating middle. Switching between the artistic naturalism of the aforementioned Malick and 3rd person docu-narration that give an authenticity as well as a new strangeness to events. The mood he creates hearkens back to the filmmaking of the 70s; melancholic, yearning, always distancing us from fascinating characters and yet captivating because of it.
It is the power of this mood that when it changes, it catches us quite by surprise. Jesse’s paranoia growing at an almost animalistic rate until the Ford Brothers find themselves penned in with this slowly dying, psychotic presence. While Ford changes with him, steeling himself for what has to come, it is in these moments before his death that we see the real reasons for Jesse's relationship with Ford and the sting in this film's title.
Rather than fearing his death, he embraces it, tending the affections of Ford, much like a lover, mocking him, taunting him, but always bringing him closer. In response to envy he placates and gifts him a gun, and thus creates his own killer, to do what the lawmen and the government could not. In that house, with its whitewashed purity and the sparse piano from Ellis and Cave's elegaic soundtrack, Ford pulls the trigger on an epochal moment, destroying his own life, and transforming Jesse's. It's terrifically resonant, turning the all too short final coda into something of a Greek tragedy, as Ford finds his own infamy too much to bear, his own end coming as a dull, blunt punctuation into darkness.
The Western has contained within its gunfights, its robberies, its plains, and crag ridden hideouts, its heroes and heroines the elements of the best of cinema. Though some might describe its history as myriad simple stories they hide a complexity of message that can shake even the most cynical of audiences. This is no less true of James Mangold's fine addition to the genre, 3.10 to Yuma. A remake of the classic of the same name it takes the surface simple story of two opposing moral forces, of struggling rancher Dan Evans (Christian Bale) and violent outlaw Ben Wade (Russell Crowe), drops them into a thrilling race against time, while subtly balancing this with an exploration of the effects of civilisation on the West.
From the first notes of Marco Beltrami's classic score and the simple, gunshot title card, this is pure undiluted genre filmmaking. No compromises to modernity; no post-modern wink. It's clean and pure, with gorgeous natural lighting and all the more powerful for it. Though Mangold holds off on the typically languorous shots of the epic Western vistas, it is essential in emphasising the claustrophobia of pursuit. He chooses performance over artistic authority, never letting his style become intrusive, directing the looks, the silent spaces, and the rhythm of dialogue expertly.
And it is an actor’s film; the screen crackling with charisma. Bale is excellent as the former Union sharpshooter, now poor rancher drawn into the prison transfer of Crowe's delightfully wicked and wily Ben Wade not because he needs the money, though that is the ostensible reason, but because he fears the disappointment in the eyes of his family. He wants to rage against the subjugation of civilisation and he sees the power and freedom personified by Wade, a scholar who kills without mercy; recalling at times The Judge from Cormac McCarthy's excellent Western tale, Blood Meridian. The two characters are intertwined, with each action they give insight into the other, how they are similar: both fathers, Evans to a brave son and Wade to savages, to what they lack and have too much of, whether it is pride or ferocity. And as they are intertwined, the natural order of good and evil bleeds together to produce far more interesting grays. It is a testament to the quality of the filmmaking and most importantly the performances of the two leads that we end the film empathizing with both men.
Like any great Western the tapestry of this film is embellished by its supporting cast. From Peter Fonda's gritty, bible riding bounty hunter, to arguably the highlight of the film in the form of Ben Foster’s psychotically fragile and deadly Charlie Prince, this is a delight, recalling the careful and colourful casting in any Peckinpah film. In fact in an ending that also recalls the opera of Leone in sound and retribution, there is a sense that the Western pedigree is being dusted off for a revival and not a moment too soon.
C'mon, let's make this happen. It may be a remake, but 3.10 to Yuma looks like it's gradually shaping up to be a classic. Even Ben Foster looks like a badass:
They've just released some fine stills from the upcoming and greatly anticipated (considering how mediocre their recent output has been) Cohen Brothers flick, No Country For Old Men, and I wanted to post them up here, including this mighty fine semi silhouette against the coming sunset:
There's also some character photos, with Tommy Lee Jones playing Sheriff Bell, a man of the Old West, where morality once existed, facing
down the increasingly violent and drug choked new frontier of .
Bad men who hire badder men like Chigurh to catch thieves. Played by Javier Bardem, this should easily be the most chilling screen villain since...forever. Carrying an abattoir bolt gun in the place of a pistol, here is a true killer. Humourless and empty of soul. Fear this man and you might live. Llewelyn Moss may not be so lucky.
I read the fine novel by the incomparable lyricist Cormac McCarthy, this singer of landscapes and decaying men, while on my travels and it so affected me that I wish I could have found the space to have held onto it. It's succinct, punchy of dialogue, and brave in its narrative; completely catching you unawares in the denouement. From what I hear the Cohen Brothers have knocked this one out of the park, staying faithful to the source which should provoke some interesting reactions from the mainstream press. Tommy Lee Jones will not be playing completely to type as his Sheriff is almost ineffectual when it comes to protecting Llewelyn Moss and that's really the point of the novel. These times are no longer Sheriff Bell's. They're a time of the worst men; men like Chigurh. Men who deal drugs and kill without mercy or reason. It's a fantastic, sorrowful lament to the dying of a time and I am aching to see it up on the big screen.
Two years...Two long years from principal photography 'end of summer 2005 to the now 'confirmed' release date of September 21st of this year. The Western starring Brad Pitt as the eponymous Jesse James, and directed by 'Chopper' talent Andrew Dominik has apparently been mired in disputes over the content of the movie. Whether it's a blam blam Peckinpah or a calm calm Malick prestige flick seems to be the problem here, and I'd read some screening reviews a while back that said the movie was pushing 3 hours. According to a report I read on Joblo.com even Pitt was having a go at an edit to see if they could resolve the issues.
Of course now it seems some kind of agreement as been made because we've got that release date and this statement from Warner Bros saying that the version of Assassination released.
"is true to the source material and in keeping with the creative vision of its filmmakers. We do not comment on the internal creative process of bringing a picture to the screen, but the goal of both the studio and the filmmakers is to deliver the best film possible…. We are all very pleased with the picture we are bringing to theaters this fall."
If you've been read anything on this blog you'll know what a fan I am of the Ron Hansen source novel. It's both mythic and terrifyingly realistic in its portrayal of the twisted relationship Ford had with his idol and curse Jesse James. The brilliant director of 'Narc', Joe Carnahan has seen the movie and reported over at his blog that:
"It's so close to being a full-fledged masterpiece, it literally had me
sitting there, saying things like 'Where the hell has Casey Affleck
been?' He's a LOCK for some sort of major acting nod. Be it Globe,
Oscar, something. Nobody comes out of this movie without viewing that
guy in whole other light. Mindblowing. I'm not bullshi*ting you guys.
He's that good. And Brad Pitt has never been better in a film. He too,
should be lauded for what he accomplishes with that role. The guy
projects a menace I've never seen and goes very, VERY deep.
There are moments of still and utter silence between characters as tense and awkward
and
terrifying as anything you've ever seen. Andrew's ability to just allow
a scene to develop gradually and let the audience watch and observe
without the need for rampant schisms of rocket propelled editorial
breaks is the mark of a true master. If you saw and loved 'Chopper'
then I can't imagine you not falling head over heels for this flick.
We throw words around like 'brilliant' and attach greatness to
things that in the end don't really deserve that level of praise...This
one DOES."
