The thing that I love about all of the Westerns that Clint Eastwood directed is their moral complexity. He isn't content to tell a story where the heroes and villains are dressed all-in-black or all-in-white, so to speak. His characters are presented with difficult choices. Should Josey choose the path of justice and revenge, or the path of peace, reintegration, and submission? Within the moral framework of the movie these paths are mutually exclusive, and neither is completely satisfactory. It is painfully clear that from the moment Josey picks up a gun to avenge his slain family, he will never be able to return to a life of peace, although he will want to. But what other choice does he really have? What makes this movie amazing is that the main character is clearly cognizant of this moral struggle. In the briefest flickers of expression on Clint Eastwood's face, and in the well chosen word, we see that although this man is supernaturally good at killing people, he doesn't LIKE it. He would rather have been left alone on his farm with his wife and child, than to have been dragged into "the damn war". He also goes out of his way, at times, to avoid conflict. (i.e. giving the bounty hunter a chance to "walk away," bargaining with Ten Bears rather than making war.) He remembers peace, and he wants it (as symbolized by his attraction to Sandra Locke's character). But it will always be out of his reach.
I think that Clint Eastwood is single-handedly responsible for elevating the Western to an art form higher than Greek drama. My argument is that in Greek drama, the characters are, trapped by circumstance, doomed to act in a certain way. Yet it is only at the end of the play that they realize their actions have led to their demise. In this movie, Josey Wales seems painfully aware _at every second_ that his actions will have consequences both for himself and those around him. Yet his actions are dictated by strict rules of circumstance and honor, and in any given situation his choices are pretty limited. And he knows it! How's that for tragedy? Eyes wide-open, he plays his cards the best way he knows how, and _still_ he ends the movie gutshot and estranged from the things he loves.
My favorite scene from this movie, by the way, is when he finally tracks down Captain "Redlegs" Terrell, and kills him with his own sword. In the hands of a lesser actor-director, this could have been a neat scene where scores are settled, loose ends are tidied-up, and moral satifaction is achieved. But it isn't. In the seconds after he kills his nemesis, Clint Eastwood's face momentarily conveys a sense of disgust, disappointment, and even horror at what he has just done. Revenge has been exacted, but it brings no satisfaction, and doesn't bring back the dead.
I think part of Eastwood's brilliance as a director and actor is how with just a few lines of dialogue and a glimmer of facial expression, he can communicate volumes of moral complexity. It is a minimalism that places an unusual amount of trust in the audience. Not many directors believe that audiences can follow their characters into dark and morally ambiguous places. Eastwood not only believes that they can, but that he can take them there without a lot of sissy hand-holding and unnecessary exposition.
I think that Clint Eastwood is single-handedly responsible for elevating the Western to an art form higher than Greek drama. My argument is that in Greek drama, the characters are, trapped by circumstance, doomed to act in a certain way. Yet it is only at the end of the play that they realize their actions have led to their demise. In this movie, Josey Wales seems painfully aware _at every second_ that his actions will have consequences both for himself and those around him. Yet his actions are dictated by strict rules of circumstance and honor, and in any given situation his choices are pretty limited. And he knows it! How's that for tragedy? Eyes wide-open, he plays his cards the best way he knows how, and _still_ he ends the movie gutshot and estranged from the things he loves.
My favorite scene from this movie, by the way, is when he finally tracks down Captain "Redlegs" Terrell, and kills him with his own sword. In the hands of a lesser actor-director, this could have been a neat scene where scores are settled, loose ends are tidied-up, and moral satifaction is achieved. But it isn't. In the seconds after he kills his nemesis, Clint Eastwood's face momentarily conveys a sense of disgust, disappointment, and even horror at what he has just done. Revenge has been exacted, but it brings no satisfaction, and doesn't bring back the dead.
I think part of Eastwood's brilliance as a director and actor is how with just a few lines of dialogue and a glimmer of facial expression, he can communicate volumes of moral complexity. It is a minimalism that places an unusual amount of trust in the audience. Not many directors believe that audiences can follow their characters into dark and morally ambiguous places. Eastwood not only believes that they can, but that he can take them there without a lot of sissy hand-holding and unnecessary exposition.