As I wrote in my piece on westerns in the 50s, this one time ubiquitous genre now only peppers the pop culture landscape, if at all. Auteurs such as the Coen brothers have lent a bit of credibility to a once thriving style of film, which had its heyday in the first half of the 20th century, and its last strong breaths in the 60s. The late part of that decade and especially the 70s brought about a dramatic sea change in style. Stories became less about adventures and characters that were disconnected from the audience. Instead, they became personal, psychological, intimate, and eminently real portraits of life, no matter how stark and uncomfortable. But, the 60s still had some great western adventure stories left to tell, some with humor, some with tragedy, and some that seemed vaguely familiar…
The Magnificent Seven (1960, John Sturges)
The Magnificent Seven is that film that might seem familiar. You see, it’s a photograph of a drawing of a photocopy. Though that might be slightly unfair, let’s look at where it came from. The film is a reimagining of Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai. Seven Samurai is, itself, greatly inspired by the style of American westerns and noir films. But, for a remake of an homage, it’s pretty darn entertaining. It’s at least cast well, with Yul Brynner, Eli Wallach, Steve McQueen, Robert Vaughn, Charles Bronson, and James Coburn as some of the cowboy specialists hired to defend a beleaguered Mexican town, targeted by bandits.
Seven Samurai practically invented the “getting the team together” trope, which was co-opted by The Magnificent Seven, and then employed throughout decades of American adventure and caper films. But, whereas Kurosawa made most of his samurai characters honorable and skilled, director John Sturges made his cowboys skilled, but perhaps not all as honorable. Vin and Bernardo, played by McQueen and Bronson respectively, are both broke, Vin from gambling. Lee, played by Robert Vaughn, has gotten himself into some kind of trouble and has to lay low. The one constant is Chico, played by German actor Horst Buchholz, who is a direct correlation to the scene-stealer of Seven Samurai, Toshiro Mifune’s similarly named, Kikuchiyo.
Whereas The Magnificent Seven clocks in at a relatively fast-paced 128 minutes, Seven Samurai takes an extra hour and a half to build the drama and let its story unfold. Another difference is in how the American version perhaps gives its characters more “larger-than-life” personalities, pushing the characteristics to be near cartoonish. After that, the films are very much alike. The real appeal of The Magnificent Seven is in its Hollywood heavyweight movie stars, its incredible score by Elmer Bernstein, and little flavorful touches, such as James Coburn’s knife throwing and fighting abilities, somehow mirroring the katana duel of Kyuzo, a pivotal scene in Seven Samurai. This wouldn’t be the last time that Hollywood would adapt a foreign film for its audience, but not many since have done it as engagingly.
Cat Ballou (1965, Elliot Silverstein)
This is a really strange film, still somehow stuck in between eras, genres, and messages. It’s a western, but also a comedy. It’s a comedy, but also had dark themes and imagery. It seemed conflicted about feminism, diversity, and sexuality. One look at that movie poster above will give you some clue as to its irreverence. But, it has somehow continued to be revered throughout the decades as an example of great silliness and concise storytelling. My complaints have nothing to do with irreverence. I revere irreverence. I liked Cat Ballou, I just think it’s a strange, strange film. A young Jane Fonda, or should I say, a young and incredibly beautiful Jane Fonda plays the titular character (no pun intended), a schoolteacher headed to Wolf City, Wyoming to visit her father. What ensues, from the train trip on, is a series of mishaps, succeeding events, and revenge plots that escalate and build, carried along by the dual role performance of Lee Marvin.
Marvin plays both drunk and washed up, yet legendary gunfighter, Kid Shelleen and the villainous Tim Strawn, aka Silvernose. Cat gets involved in her father’s fight against a greedy development corporation and enlists the help of Shelleen to battle the injustices they face. In a not-so-comedic moment, Cat’s father is killed. Later, there is literal gallows humor, with jokes surrounding a public hanging. There are definitely funny moments in the film, especially surrounding Marvin’s drunken character of Kid Shelleen, such as when he actually misses shooting the broad side of a barn. Further, there is a great scene in which Kid’s horse appears drunk as well, crossing its legs and leaning up against a shed. Horses don’t cross their legs, and it apparently took the trainer quite a bit of time to train the horse to do something so unnatural.
But, the American Film Institute named Cat Ballou as one of the top ten western films of all time. Though I liked the film, I can easily name probably 20 other westerns I enjoyed more. I’ve seen six of the other nine on the list and think they are appropriate, but I’d probably replace Cat Ballou with either version of True Grit, Tombstone, Silverado, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, or any one of Eastwood’s films, which, except for the later Unforgiven, were mysteriously absent from this list. The greek chorus of Nat King Cole and Stubby Kaye, singing songs about our heroine, were simply weird. I understand that a musical aspect was present in many early westerns, but by this point they were somewhat out of date. But, that didn’t stop the Farrelly brothers from being inspired by their presence. While Cat Ballou was entertaining, it wouldn’t be in my own top ten.
The Way West (1967, Andrew McLaglen)
Most people’s knowledge of the Oregon Trail has come from a video game in junior high social studies. But, that journey was so much more than simply, “You have died of dysentery.” Seventeen years after the novel by A.B. Guthrie won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction, Hollywood came calling with the promise of an adaptation of The Way West. Veteran actor and director Andrew McLaglen helmed the picture, casting the great Kirk Douglas, Richard Widmark, and Robert Mitchum as the trio of male leads, and featuring a young Sally Field in a somewhat risqué role for a one-time surfer girl, and soon-to-be flying nun. The Way West depicts exactly what the title promises, a wagon train of farmers and ranchers heading to the Oregon territory to find independence and fortune.
Widmark plays the novel’s central character, Lije Evans, but he is given somewhat of a backseat role to the somewhat bigger stars for the film adaptation. Douglas plays William Tadlock, a politician traveling with his young son, driven both to get to the west as soon as possible as well as lead a group he finds malleable and lesser than. Along for the ride is Dick Summers, played by Mitchum, the loner Han Solo character, standoffish and silent, but more experienced than anyone else in the party. This film illustrates the hardships these travelers faced, including fording deep and dangerous rivers, encounters with Native Americans (played less politically correct in the film than in the book, more on that later), stampedes, lack of medical attention, and anything else you can name from this period. The film doesn’t even bother to replicate the rattlesnake bite that one child dies from in the book, maybe because it would have been overkill.
In the novel, Native American tribes act only after being provoked, with one of their own killed by one of the travelers who was sniping from a tree. In the film, they attack for no reason, perpetuating the stereotype of the savage. Even further, they make the Indians fairly ineffectual, firing arrows at near point blank range and having no effect whatsoever. These are skilled hunters and survivalists! Yeesh. Other than that, The Way West is a well-made film, well acted, and with incredible cinematography. Sally Field’s portrayal as the somewhat loose and easy Mercy McBee may surprise some, knowing her usual casting as the girl next door. But, in this, she seduces a married man and becomes pregnant with his child! Gasp! At least Guthrie and Hollywood each decided to present situations as they happened in reality, refusing to whitewash it with political correctness. It’s just a shame that they didn’t see the reality of the Native Americans in the same way, defaulting toward what was more “entertaining.”
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