My favorite westerns…
When I’m tired of writing or the business of writing (editing and marketing) and there is nothing else on the agenda, I go to the TV like any normal American. Well, maybe not normal. I’m choosy about what I watch. Reality shows are out. “Castle” is good for a chuckle—there’s a lot of good sexual tension between Beckett and Castle, but the writers often try to do too much by fitting a mystery with innumerable plot twists in the forty minutes of TV screen time (I’m subtracting out the annoying commercials, of course). So, I channel surf, starting with the Encore channels. I’ve caught up on some good westerns that way and revisited some of my favorites.
The Western is a typically American book, TV, and film genre. My memory on the books is obfuscated since I started reading at an early age (I read comic books before I was in kindergarten). The earliest book I can remember reading is Jack O’Brien’s Valiant, Dog of the Timberline. Another is Zane Grey’s Riders of the Purple Sage, which some say defined the genre. I’m sure there were many more that probably only take second place to my run through the sci-fi books of the time. In fact, I suppose Westerns predated both sci-fi and thrillers because we didn’t have a TV for a long time—we listened to radio shows, and two of my favorites were The Lone Ranger (the radio version started in 1933 and the TV series ran from 1949-57) and Gunsmoke (radio 1952-61 and TV 1955-75). The old radio shows also introduced me to mysteries and thrillers too (for example, The Whistler and The Green Hornet), but that’s another story.
While the radio didn’t do a bad job with the music, I distinctly remember being more impressed with it in the TV and film Westerns. Some of this was a budding love for classical music—I’ll confess that I loved those Lone Ranger themes before I knew about Rossini’s Guillermo Tell Overture and Liszt’s Les Preludes. Another reason was my father who loved to sing the old cowboy ballads, mostly off key, but he did a good job in remembering the words. (I loved “Streets of Laredo” before I knew it was really a Scotch-Irish ballad that came to American shores in an Appalachian version before heading out West.) It’s strange, but for many films I remember the music more than the movie. Who can forget Elmer Bernstein’s stirring theme and score for The Magnificent Seven? Watching Encore brought some of this back. For example, I was reminded there that Ennio Morricone wrote much more than the driving score to The Mission (for example, the score to The Good, The Bad and The Ugly).
Plot, scenery, and music often make up for some really bad acting in film Westerns, especially in early Hollywood opuses where the Cowboy is garishly attired in huge hats, two big pistols hanging from a silver-laden gun belt, and singing silver spurs to goad his magnificent stallion. More often than not in those early films, Native Americans are caricatures, mere stereotypes of bad guys doing bad things to the white heroes. The Lone Ranger’s companion was even called Tonto (growing up in California, I knew what that Spanish word meant by the time I was through the first grade). Manifest destiny was the rule—if it wasn’t the Injuns it was the Mexicans doing the evil deeds. Books were far ahead of Hollywood in both realism and historical authenticity (aren’t they always?)—for example, in Valiant we have the classic struggle between the cattle ranchers and sheep farmers, a struggle rarely treated with authenticity by Hollywood.
Nevertheless, let’s take a trip down memory lane and revisit some of my favorite Westerns. It’s obvious that this is not my writing genre, so bear with me—I may not put your favorite in the list. Moreover, for the reasons discussed above, I may have just forgotten a few—the reader of this blog post can maybe remind me, just as the Encore Western channel has in moments of desperation and boredom. There’s nothing wrong with the genre, by the way. There are some Western influences in my new novel, Survivors of the Chaos, a bow to a great genre and memories of stories my father often told me about his youth.
High Noon (1952), directed by Fred Zinneman, based on John W. Cunningham’s short story “The Tin Star,” and starring Gary Cooper, Grace Kelly, and Thomas Mitchell. This was the first movie I ever saw. My father took me. Since I was very young, I probably missed many nuances the first time. I’ve seen it many times since. As a writer, it showed me that action is not everything. Tension can be contained in the plot—watching that clock tick down to high noon is always something. Of course, it helped to have Gary Cooper in those scenes, not to mention Princess Grace.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969), directed by George Roy Hill, screenplay by William Goldman, and starring Paul Newman, Robert Redford, and Katharine Ross. There are some very good tongue-and-cheek Westerns. This and Little Big Man (1970) (director Arthur Penn, novel Thomas Berger, and starring Dustin Hoffman and Faye Dunaway) are probably the best. A good time will be had by all. Note that Little Big Man is also from the Native American’s perspective, an unusual occurrence for Hollywood.
A Man Called Horse (1970), directed by Elliot Silverstein, based on the short story by Dorothy M. Johnson, and starring Richard Harrison, Judith Anderson, and Jean Gascon. I don’t know why I can’t remember many westerns between High Noon and Butch Cassidy—perhaps I had other things on my mind. There were Clint Eastwood’s “spaghetti westerns,” of course, but I thought they were generic and boring (except for Morricone’s music). Horse and Little Big Man defined one way I thought the future of westerns should go—telling a story more from the Native American’s point-of-view. One of my father’s heroes was Jim Thorpe. This movie is still gruesome even by today’s standards, so beware.
McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971), directed by Robert Altman, based on Edmund Naughton’s novel McCabe, and starring Warren Beatty and Julie Christie. This is the other way I thought the future of westerns should go, showing “the way the West really was.” Altman even called it the anti-Western. The plot has modern themes (considering the greed on Wall Street) and is as follows: McCabe defends a town from the greedy railroad men who have hired gunslingers to buy up all the property. I still remember McCabe drinking a raw egg in cheap bourbon. Julie and her girls give you an idea of what a real Western brothel might look like.
Heaven’s Gate (1980), directed by Michael Cimino and starring Kris Kristofferson, Christopher Walken, Jeff Bridges, and a host of other famous names. When this movie came out it was considered a flop, but I like it. I’m referring to the short version. It’s also along the lines of “this is the way the West really was.” It’s a bloody version of Valiant in the sense that it’s based on the Johnson County War, an 1890 dispute between land barons (cattlemen) and European immigrants (farmers and sheep ranchers). None other than Martin Scorsese has said the film has many virtues. It’s worth another look.
Pale Rider (1985), directed by Clint Eastwood, screenplay by Michael Butler and Dennis Shryrack, and starring Clint Eastwood, Michael Moriarty, and Carrie Snodgrass. The roaming preacher was common in the old West as few towns could afford to support their own. Clint, in a classic understated performance, shows how one might have “got religion.” Like High Noon, the tension is a killer, but it’s punctuated by spurts of violence.
Dances with Wolves (1990), directed by Kevin Costner, based on Michael Blake’s novel, and starring Kevin Costner, Mary McDonnell, and Graham Greene. Another movie emphasizing the Native American’s point-of-view. This movie also opens with some gruesome Civil War scenes. (I considered putting some Civil War films in the list, but they’re not really Westerns.)
The Unforgiven (1992), directed by Clint Eastwood, screenplay by David Webb Peoples, and starring Clint Eastwood, Gene Hackman, and Morgan Freeman. Another anti-Western, if you will—“the way the West really was”—crude, violent, and tough. My favorite scene is the one with Gene Hackman and his deputy trying to survive a leaky roof. This and other scenes are also in the spirit of High Noon—long scenes of on-the-edge-of-your-chair suspense without much action, but great plot and acting.
The Missing (2003), directed by Ron Howard, based on Thomas Eidson’s novel, and starring Tommy Lee Jones, Cate Blanchett, and Evan Rachel Wood. I saw this for the first time one night on Encore. I don’t know how I missed it. You might say it prompted me to make this list. This is another film where the Native American’s point-of-view is emphasized. Interestingly enough, the villain is a Native American too. Again, caveat emptor—this film is not for the squeamish.
3:10 to Yuma (2007), directed by James Mangold, based on Elmore Leonard’s short story, and starring Russell Crowe, Christian Bale, and Ben Foster. This is the remake and is one of those very few cases where the remake is better than the original. The story is the classic gunslinging bad guy becoming a good Samaritan, but, oh, so much more. The acting shines. I liked Frankie Lane’s original version of the theme song best, however.
No Country for Old Men (2007), directed by Ethan and Joel Coen, based on the novel by Cormac McCarthy, and starring Tommy Lee Jones, Javier Bardem, and Josh Brolin. OK, I had to include a “modern Western,” and what better one than the Coen brothers’ cinematic interpretation of McCarthy’s novel. Like many movies by the Coens, this one’s violent and crude, but you have to be a Zen Buddhist with respect to your taste for Westerns—if they’re not violent and crude, they’re not Westerns! That’s the way the West really was.
And so you have it. What does my new novel Survivors of the Chaos have to do with any of these great films? Maybe not much—you’ll have to see. In some sense, it’s like Cormac McCarthy (The Road) morphing into Arthur C. Clarke (2001 and other novels). But when I finish a story, I often look back and try to self-analyze a bit, asking myself why I wrote this or that? What influenced me? It’s clear the story of my barefoot father riding his quarter horse Tony out to tend his traps was an influence. Is that a Western influence? It sure is! The West starts in Kansas and the old cattle trails led from Texas to Kansas. And the timeline? Look at the year of Butch Cassidy. True, the film is in some way about the passing of the old West. But is it really gone? Ever seen the TV series Firefly? The year there is 2517.
