*** SPOILERS ***
Near the end of this film, Paul Newman is playing a tense game of poker in his bar while the overwhelming forces of evil gather round in the darkened street outside, intent on burning him out or shooting him dead. "I call," he says, to end the hand, and promptly lays down HIS cards. Is this story-telling at its best, or film-making at its sloppiest? By this time in the film, you know this is just sloppiness.
Director Huston labors valiantly and too obviously to make still another film about the Western code of the gun becoming obsolete at the turn of the century. Railroads and telegraph coming in, servants of regional and national companies rather than mom and pop entrepreneurs; administrative systems of government and law enforcement rather than marshals on horseback and circuit court justices; law books and defense counsel rather than kangaroo courts and quick-tempered frontier justice.
Where will there be a place for men like "Judge Roy Bean", who built towns by stealing capital from those that the self-righteous disapproved of, and then doing away with their protestations by hanging them on little or no pretext.
He was a form of Robin Hood, only he robbed the helpless criminals to finance the sanctimonious, with a 40% commission for himself.
But just as we settle into a style that MIGHT have developed into something, despite the plot's drawbacks, Huston decides it's a Disney family comedy, and dumbs it down with a lovable beer drinking bear that knows exactly who to gore and slash and who to kiss and cuddle.
No, it's a romance. With scenes right out of BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID (1969) you can practically see the boys out with Ms. Katharine Ross on a bicycle, only this time its Victoria Principal, and it's a see-saw and a swing instead of a bicycle. But the cuddle positions and camera angles are the same. Oh my grief.
No it's an extended anecdote about how brave men of the outdoors can't handle married life. The once-dangerous, once-feared members of Paul Newman's posse become impotent, castrated, henpecked husbands, socially and then even politically inept at the hands of their devious, scheming wives. The wives were originally wholesale priced whores delivered to town in bulk and married off at gunpoint by the Judge to lower the stress levels within his jurisdiction. A decision that backfired to say the least.
And so it goes. For probably 20 or 30 minutes too long. Until Director Huston seems to "wake up" and realize that he had a story to tell -- alas not a new one, nor did he have a new angle. He tries to rescue things by dumping the plot into the hands of Newman's never seen, now 20-year old daughter. I leave it to you to watch for blunders in the final resolution.
Here are two example. A light-framed woman shoots off a .45 with no kick whatsoever. And another camera angle reveals that she is not even in the scene. She was either spliced in post production, or filmed on another sound-stage. Either way, she had no idea where to look so that her eyes could track the action. NOW THAT is not good story-telling.
I rented this film to round out my John Huston experience and I am still a devoted fan. But I sure think he was "out to lunch" on this one. You can't lay all this at the feet of the dated style of 1970s film-making.
Near the end of this film, Paul Newman is playing a tense game of poker in his bar while the overwhelming forces of evil gather round in the darkened street outside, intent on burning him out or shooting him dead. "I call," he says, to end the hand, and promptly lays down HIS cards. Is this story-telling at its best, or film-making at its sloppiest? By this time in the film, you know this is just sloppiness.
Director Huston labors valiantly and too obviously to make still another film about the Western code of the gun becoming obsolete at the turn of the century. Railroads and telegraph coming in, servants of regional and national companies rather than mom and pop entrepreneurs; administrative systems of government and law enforcement rather than marshals on horseback and circuit court justices; law books and defense counsel rather than kangaroo courts and quick-tempered frontier justice.
Where will there be a place for men like "Judge Roy Bean", who built towns by stealing capital from those that the self-righteous disapproved of, and then doing away with their protestations by hanging them on little or no pretext.
He was a form of Robin Hood, only he robbed the helpless criminals to finance the sanctimonious, with a 40% commission for himself.
But just as we settle into a style that MIGHT have developed into something, despite the plot's drawbacks, Huston decides it's a Disney family comedy, and dumbs it down with a lovable beer drinking bear that knows exactly who to gore and slash and who to kiss and cuddle.
No, it's a romance. With scenes right out of BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID (1969) you can practically see the boys out with Ms. Katharine Ross on a bicycle, only this time its Victoria Principal, and it's a see-saw and a swing instead of a bicycle. But the cuddle positions and camera angles are the same. Oh my grief.
No it's an extended anecdote about how brave men of the outdoors can't handle married life. The once-dangerous, once-feared members of Paul Newman's posse become impotent, castrated, henpecked husbands, socially and then even politically inept at the hands of their devious, scheming wives. The wives were originally wholesale priced whores delivered to town in bulk and married off at gunpoint by the Judge to lower the stress levels within his jurisdiction. A decision that backfired to say the least.
And so it goes. For probably 20 or 30 minutes too long. Until Director Huston seems to "wake up" and realize that he had a story to tell -- alas not a new one, nor did he have a new angle. He tries to rescue things by dumping the plot into the hands of Newman's never seen, now 20-year old daughter. I leave it to you to watch for blunders in the final resolution.
Here are two example. A light-framed woman shoots off a .45 with no kick whatsoever. And another camera angle reveals that she is not even in the scene. She was either spliced in post production, or filmed on another sound-stage. Either way, she had no idea where to look so that her eyes could track the action. NOW THAT is not good story-telling.
I rented this film to round out my John Huston experience and I am still a devoted fan. But I sure think he was "out to lunch" on this one. You can't lay all this at the feet of the dated style of 1970s film-making.