Ten Deep 5.20.09: 50 Great Westerns: #50-#43!

Posted by Lucas Huddleston on 05.20.2009

After a week of piddling around, 411's Lucas Huddleston finally decides to kick off the Great Western stuff. 'Bout damn time, if you ask me.

Hello, and welcome to Ten Deep: Week 31! Of course, as I assume you already know, last week I devoted an entire column to merely laying out the ground rules and making note of a handful of Honorable Mentions. What's funny about that is, despite my coordinating an entire column around the ground rules, I still forgot to include two fairly important points! Arrgh! Allow me to note them here real quick…

--As with my previous Top 50 Fantasy Films list, I have taken into consideration – and including a few – made-for-TV movies and miniseries', for the simple reason that I consider them to be movies, as well.

--Unlike my Fantasy stuff, however, this time I've chosen to not give films that are part of a series one spot; instead, I've broken them up individually. The main reason for my doing so lies in one film: Lonesome Dove. Obviously, that film will be appearing at some point on my list, as I think that it's a masterpiece; the other four films in the LD series, though (the official LD films Streets of Laredo, Dead Man's Walk, Comanche Moon, and the unofficial sequel Return to Lonesome Dove), pale in comparison to that first production, and their individual respective qualities range from being either disappointing to decent…though none are on the level of that first great movie, so I wouldn't have felt very comfortable putting the other Dove films at a high spot (assuming Lonesome Dove itself is in a high spot on the list…). As such, I think that's good enough reason to have trilogies and long-running series' broken up for the purposes of this list.

Ok, now that THAT'S taken care of, let's get down to business. I'll tell you, it was actually kind of a pain in assembling this list, if only for the reason that, as I noted last week, one could say that there's EASILY over 100 great Westerns that have been made over the years. Now, in my mind, Numbers 1 through about 20 were fairly easy to sort and compile; the remainder of my ultimate choices, however – not so much. Of course, just to remind everyone again, these fifty picks were mine and mine alone, and I'm sure I left some out that others would look for, while at the same time adding a few to the list that others wouldn't necessarily care to see here. But, at the end of the list, I hope that we can all at least agree that all these movies are indeed great Westerns.

50 GREAT WESTERNS: #50-#43

Unfortunately, something came up this past weekend, and siphoned all my time late in the weekend. As such, I was only able to really complete entrants #50 to #43. Next week's column will contain #42 through #31. I apologize for this.

50. The Alamo (1960)



And with Number Fifty, we kick off the list with one of those ‘exceptions to the ground rules' that I mentioned last week, namely placing what could easily be considered a War film on the Westerns list…though, honestly, I wouldn't have made this particular exception if I felt that The Alamo didn't apply to being a Western. In fact (as you no doubt have already guessed), I believe that there's no other classification for the movie to fall under. The Battle for the Alamo, one of the most iconic battles in American history, was one of those mass events that would help to shape and mold the Old West and its peoples into what it was, and, almost immediately after word of the battle and its outcome spread back in 1836, the Battle for the Alamo would become more than a mere historical event – it would move on into the realms of legend and myth, much like a lot of the happenings and/or figures of that particular place and time. Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie, William Travis…hell, even Santa Anna are no longer mere men. As I said last week, part of what makes the Old West the Old West is indeed the presumption that, really, when all is said done, the facts don't really matter all that much; the facts are overshadowed by the fantasy of it all. And much as how 1939's Jesse James was a film that chose to focus more on the fantasy than the facts of that particular legendary outlaw, so too does 1960's The Alamo represent not the facts of what happened on that particular day of March the 6th, 1836…it represents that fantasy, the myth, the legend that would be culled from that fateful day. By that same token, however, great pains were taken to recreate the physical aspects of the Alamo itself and the other sets for the film in order to amplify the act of depicting the event itself as epic as the myth itself, and the end result was as ambitious and glorious as any film of its kind produced in that era. As such, it's rather unfortunate that, during its own time, the film was leveled by struggles and criticisms, with most – if not ALL – of those condemnations directed at the film's star/producer/director…John Wayne.

The Alamo stands as being John Wayne's very first directorial effort, a labor of love that the Duke had had visions of creating dating back to as early as 1945, fifteen years earlier. Initially, the film was set to be developed by Republic Pictures, though clashes over the budget between the president of Republic and Wayne (who had obviously overseen the project through the Republic days), coerced Wayne to leave the project, though was unable to take his script and his then-vision with him (the film would go on to be rewritten and produced under the title The Last Command). Even after being forced to leave his vision behind with Republic, Wayne wasn't deterred, continuing to work on and develop what his Alamo film would and should be, and eventually forming his own film production company with producer Robert Fellows, a company named Batjac (named after a fictitious trading company in a 1948 Wayne-film titled Wake of the Red Witch). After the creation of Batjac, it wouldn't take long for Wayne to really put his plans for The Alamo in action, going so far as to declare himself the producer/director for the film so that his vision would remain untainted by the hands of others. However, the problems with the budget that came attached to such an ambitious undertaking reared its ugly head, much as it had done during the Republic years; as such, Wayne was able to broker a deal with United Artists to shoulder up one-half of the load, while he borrowed the rest of the money from wealthy businessmen based in Texas…all under the conditions that the movie be filmed in Texas with Wayne in the lead (he had originally intended to take the much smaller role of Sam Houston). Once all the sets had been erected and the area in which the shoot was to take place prepared (roads were created for the picture, and wells were sank in the area so that the cast and crew had water), more problems arose on set, amongst a few of which were: the attitude of Richard Widmark (who played Jim Bowie), who complained about Wayne's direction and tried to leave the film (though legal action prevented that); the murder of one of the actresses (LeJean Eldridge); and the appearance of vaunted Westerns director John Ford (who also directed Wayne to some of his best films) on the set, where he allegedly became a bit of a ‘back-seat director'. After filming was completed…well, things didn't get much better, as quite a few of the actors involved in the movie (most of which had been picked to take part in The Alamo due to their being personal friends with Wayne) blasted the film and Wayne, and quite a few critics also damned the film by claiming that Wayne had given the picture a slant in which to push his own political agenda. The film's cause wasn't helped by the poor attendance from the general public, and as such, when regarding the movie's high budget, led the film to being labeled as a flop. The lack of profit from the film also forced Wayne to pay out of his own pockets, which ultimately cost him a rather hefty amount of his own personal fortune.

Which is all sad, really. When John Wayne looked back on this film in retrospect and all the criticisms that it earned him from his friends and peers, I've often wondered whether he questioned it was worth all the thought, time, and money that he ultimately put into it. It's not a bad film by any stretch of the imagination; in fact, I think it's a great film. While Wayne's direction may have been criticized by his actors and a former director of his, the Duke does a fantastic job of capturing the epic feel of the event (no doubt as he learned a few things from working with Ford over the years), and all the acting is by far above average. The action sequences, particularly that of the final battle between the Texans and Santa Anna's Mexican Army are exceptionally envisioned and captured; in fact, I might even be inclined to say that, as a director, Wayne captured action even BETTER than that of Ford. And, of course, the film endears itself due to the same fact that a lot of critics once blasted it for: it plays up the legend of the Alamo wonderfully, though mainly in the actual event itself and not so much in the ‘whys' of the happening. Here, all the heroes of the film die noble and overly-heroic deaths. Jim Bowie, who was deathly ill, fights against all odds from his bed. Here, there's neither sight nor sound of the legendary Davy Crockett surrendering to the Mexicans, only to meet his death at execution; no, here, Davy Crockett gets pinned to the wall by a dozen bayonets, fights them all off, and sacrifices himself in order to explode the munitions dump in the Alamo. It's all wonderfully overblown and larger-than-life…much like the Old West itself is portrayed at times. There's really only one negative that I can say about the movie, actually; The Alamo is almost broken into two separate and distinct films: the first half of the film focuses on Crockett traveling to the Alamo and meeting other characters, and the second half takes place all in the Alamo. While the first part does indeed drag a bit, the second half is nothing short of excellent.

49. Duel in the Sun (1946)



If there has ever been a Western film created that one could label as being a ‘Western-Opera', 1946's Duel in the Sun would by far come the closest to being such a thing. Not that this particular movie's story is conveyed via songs sung by a ‘big, beautiful woman' dressed as a valkyrie or anything like that, yet when I think of what something means to be an ‘opera', I've always related the term ‘over-the-top' to that specific classification. The basic story for Duel in the Sun is a fairly simple one, as it essentially relates a tale of the star-crossed lovers caught in an ever-viciously growing love triangle, as a half-breed woman (half-Caucasian, half-Indian) is torn between choosing two brothers to be her suitors: one of the two (her true love), played by Gregory Peck, is a cruel outlaw; the other, a more responsible, ‘marrying-type' of guy. However, and perhaps true to what an opera is, despite that rather simplistic tale, everything in this movie just seems a whole lot bigger than your usual Westerns, from the landscapes to the acting (which is, at times, almost corny, particularly from the lead actress, Jennifer Jones). And that's EXACTLY what producer David O. Selznick wanted this picture to be…though it falters a bit when one compares the film to the previous Selznick picture that undoubtedly set the course for what he truly wanted Duel in the Sun in to be.

In 1939, Selznick would set the bar for the remainder of his career with a certain major motion picture that he would produce, one that is unarguably one of the truly great films in movie history – Gone with the Wind. As is what is sometimes prone to happen when one creates what is unquestionably their masterpiece, said masterpiece can have a tendency to be that proverbial ‘albatross' that hangs about their neck, and eventually drags the rest of their career downhill after the masterpiece has reaped its success. Not that Duel in the Sun ruined Selznick's career as a big-time Hollywood producer or anything of that nature; quite the contrary, Duel in the Sun was a huge success at the box-office when it was released, going on to be the second highest-grossing film of 1947. No, Gone with the Wind was the albatross around Selznick's neck for the mere reason that, in the years following the release of his epic masterwork, Selznick would attempt to replicate that success and acclaim that GwtW had been blessed with having; essentially, Selznick became consumed with the impossible task of attempting to replicate a work that simply could not be recreated. Enter Duel in the Sun, which, without a shadow of a doubt, probably stands as being Selznick's best shot at attempting to recreate the magic of GwtW. With a budget of six million dollars, coupled with an advertising campaign costing around an additional two million, Selznick and company spared no expense in crafting another masterwork. Unfortunately, for Duel in the Sun, there came no critical accolades, and while the film had a large box-office take, it's for-the-time massive budget and promotional costs kept the film from being any kind of sizable financial success.

While the cost of the film kept profits at bay, the acclaim that Selznick had hoped to reap was replaced with controversy. The film helped to ‘out' the extramarital affair that Selznick was having with starlet Jennifer Jones, which obviously wrecked Selznick's marriage and family at the time (though, in my opinion, people who are guilty infidelity have that coming to them, and shouldn't barter for remorse, though I don't know if Selznick did as such or not). Critics jokingly nicknamed the picture ‘Lust in the Dust' due to the overt sexual overtones that the film held, and they (presumably) was only privy to the edited version; indeed, the film originally failed to pass moral codes that were in place for the film industry at the time (the Hays Code), which led to the heavy re-edits that the film originally saw, such as a rape scene being changed). Of course, any kind of risqué elements that Duel in the Sun has is seemingly innocent by today's standards, which makes it hard to believe what the ‘big deal' was about the whole mess…but, be that as it may, the film's reputation proceeded it as such that television companies didn't dare air the movie on television until years later. One would think that Selznick was indeed a bit disheartened by the negative critiques and controversy that arose from the film's release, as after the completion of Duel in the Sun, Selznick would walk away from films for a time to marry his mistress Jones, ultimately becoming more consumed with furthering her career to elite status than his own successes. As can happen sometimes, the decades since the film's initial release have been kind to Duel in the Sun, as many critics nowadays hail the film has being a Western classic…though, of course, that's not a universal sentiment, as the film was also named to the ‘100 Most Amusingly Bad Movies Ever Made' in the Official Razzie Movie Guide. However, I obviously have always liked this film, as it has some truly spectacular cinematography, and a great cast that, while sometimes bordering on being truly camp (specifically Jones), gives some great, larger-than-life performances. And isn't that a staple of the Old West, in the end – being larger-than-life?

48. Quigley Down Under (1990)



A few months ago (I believe it was during my Fantasy Films list), I mentioned the fact that when my father found a movie that he really, REALLY liked, he would (and still does) watch it over, and over, and over, and over…pretty much to the point that whatever film it is that he's consumed with began to sicken my mother and I. Heck, sometimes he's been known to watch one of these ‘consuming' movies, and then watch it AGAIN directly afterwards, and, if he has the time, watch it a third time after that second go-around. The point? Well, I'm sure that you've figured it out by now, but suffice it to say that Quigley Down Under here was one of those such movies that my dad basically forced upon our household time and time again off-and-on for YEARS. As such, I believe that I can honestly and safely make the claim that I've seen Quigley Down Under more times than any other film that will being appearing on this list – by far. And, while I loved the movie the first few times I watched it, it didn't take very long for my attitude towards the movie to take a drastic change, and there for a long time I couldn't STAND the movie any longer. Whenever my dad would turn the thing on, I'd be sure to leave the room and go read a book, watch television in my room, play a videogame, go outside…ANYTHING, as long as I didn't have to watch that damn Quigley no more. Obviously, since that time, I've come full circle, back around to liking the picture again, as long as it's on my terms (i.e. watch it when I want to)…though perhaps my somewhat shaky past with the movie ultimately affected its placement on the list. Ah, who knows.

To be honest, I was almost a bit hesitant in granting Quigley Down Under a place on my list at first, though my reasoning to do so had nothing to do with the fact that I was once completely and utterly ‘burned out' on the thing. No, my reasoning had to do simply with the fact that…the movie, while being a Western, doesn't take place in the Old West – it takes place in Australia (which should be somewhat obvious from the title of the movie). Since I'd gone through great lengths at setting up a rules system for the list, really breaking down what should and should not be considered to make the list under specific conditions, it seemed wrong of me to place Quigley on here after having stated that the only Westerns that I was considering for the list took place IN the Old West between the battle of the Alamo and the turn of the 20th Century…and since this particular movie is set in the Australian Outback and not in America, it obviously doesn't quite measure up to the claim that I was only looking at pictures that take place in the Old West. Ultimately, however, I obviously decided to include it, for two reasons: 1.), I made the rules, so it stands that I can break them as I see fit; and 2.), honestly, with the exception of a few ‘technicalities', you'd be hard-pressed to actually tell that the film ISN'T set in America in the late-1800's. As presented here in Quigley Down Under, the two settings seem almost interchangeable: both share the character-type of the evil, wealthy landowner who's looking to expand his territory at the expense of anybody and everybody who happens to be in his way, whether they are as such intentional or unintentional; the landscapes of the Outback could very easily be misinterpreted as being the barren landscapes of the American Southwest; the Aborigines depicted here more-or-less thematically stand-in for the American Indian; and the movie stars Tom Selleck, who, believe it not, has had a rather substantial and successful presence in Westerns all throughout his film career (such as The Sacketts, which just narrowly missed my list).

Now, perhaps the main reason that I enjoyed Quigley Down Under so much at first is that the main character of Matthew Quigley wasn't like other fictional Western heroes; he was different all together, as he had…super-powers. Of course, I don't mean that LITERALLY – he didn't really have ‘super-powers' such as flight, super-speed, or super-strength. However, that being said, my labeling the character has having a certain, unique power is certainly somewhat applicable, as Quigley did indeed have something that enabled him a certain ‘attribute' that nobody else had or could do – his rifle. You see, when armed with his rifle, Matthew Quigley can shoot across enormous distances…which is why the villainous Alan Rickman (one of the best to ever play a villain) brings Quigley in. However, when Quigley learns that he's wanted not to shoot rustlers or animals but the innocent Aborigines that traverse across Rickman's land, he quits…and is subsequently beaten and left for dead by the evil man and his henchmen. Quigley Down Under stands as being a Western that's pretty much just a blast to watch: it has a fair amount of actually humorous comedy, lush landscapes, and great acting. While the film doesn't necessarily do any one of these things better than any other Western or bring anything really all that new to the table, it still does everything quite well, and the result is a fantastic watch, in my opinion. Even if I hated it there for a while.

47. Hang ‘Em High (1968)



Shortly after the release of the first installment of the so-called ‘Dollars Trilogy' in the States, Clint Eastwood would achieve a certain level of ‘fame' and ‘success' in the good ol' U.S. of A. the likes of which he had yet to experience…though I'm lying a bit there, as the films that constitute the Dollars Trilogy (A Handful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars, and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly) wasn't an immediate success in the United States, as it wasn't released here until 1967, though it was hugely popular in Italy. Nonetheless, you'd have to think that the film and his role doubtless garnered attention from Hollywood, and, thus, shortly after the final film of the Dollars Trilogy was completed (and the first in the trilogy saw release Stateside), Hollywood-types wasted little time in bringing Eastwood in to star in a ‘real' Western…or, an American-produced Western. However, in spite of the general bashing and hatred that most American critics leveled (unfairly) at the ‘Spaghetti Westerns', it's quite clear that the film had been affected somewhat by the ‘Revisionist' period of Westerns that the Spaghetti genre helped to exacerbate in popularity for the broader genre of Westerns. It's a darker tale, where the lines between good and evil are somewhat blurry, though it lacks what I'd call the more ‘realistic' looking costumes and such that Leone's films seemed to have had. But by no means does that mean that Hang ‘Em High is bad.

The opening sequence to Hang ‘Em High has got to be one of the greatest opening sequences of any film ever made, as we see Jed Cooper (Eastwood) pushing a herd of cattle that he recently purchased. Unknown to Cooper, the cattle was previously stolen…unknown until a group of men come upon him and, thinking that Cooper did the deed though he was innocent of it, lynch him, claim some of his belongings as their own, and ride off. However, another man rides up afterwards, sees Cooper, and cuts him down. From then on, Jed, a former lawman, goes back to ‘marshalin', now adorned with a distinctive scar about his neck, a constant reminder for the vengeance that he would one day sow…lawfully. Overall, the movie tells an intriguing tale, and is filled with great performances. Eastwood's character of Cooper is somewhat similar to the Man with No Name, though he's a bit more verbose than that particular character, and is even a good sight different from the other Western figures that Eastwood would go on to play in other American Westerns. Pat Hingle (later of Batman fame as Commissioner Gordon) is the other real stand-out in the picture as the Hangin' Judge.

However, there is one negative thing that I have to say about Hang ‘Em High and that is this – it lays the groundwork to truly delve in and explore a certain theme, but it seems reluctant to do so, as it more-or-less just deftly dances around the subject. That certain theme that the movie somewhat evades is the exploration of the difference between a lynching and a proper, law-ordered hanging, and whether or not the two are one and the same. Cooper insinuates as much to the judge on one or two occasions, relating the ‘proper' public hangings to little more than entertainment, with the Judge's response showing his true colors…he only does so to show to ‘higher-ups' that there's law in that lawless land, and if he doesn't do it, then the territory will never attain the statehood that it so desperately needs to be. Which, of course, isn't an all-in-all bad reason to go about the hanging of guilty men: the territory is overall a place where there is no true law, and by showing that law can indeed be carried out there, the lawlessness can be replaced by actual law. Of course, the problem comes in with the whole ‘speedy' trial thing, and whether or not it matters whether the men who are to be hanged are actually deserving of it…which is EXACTLY what the movie just never really pushes into. Nevertheless, the film is still great for the vengeance tale that it relates, and it stands as being somewhat historic in the realms of the Western genre, as it is Clint Eastwood's very first American-produced Western film. It also stands as being the very first Eastwood movie that I ever watched, and I've loved it ever since, so it deserves it's spot on here.

46. How the West Was Won (1962)



As far as Epic Westerns go, they really don't get much more epic than How the West Was Won. The film's plot is essentially broken down into five segments, with one director over three of the shorts, then two others individually overlooking the other two. As for the plot itself, it details the history of four generations of one family, and the hardships and struggles that each generation faces, with the family history chronicled roughly throughout the 19th Century. For example, the first segment basically deals with the people within the family during the pioneer days, the second segment deals with the period of expansion for the American people as they moved from the East to the West across the Mississippi River and into the Great Plains (and Indian Territory), the third deals with the Civil War, the fourth with the birthing and laying of the railroads, and the fifth, finally, with the future generation of the family becoming outlaws in the Wild West. You see what I mean – epic. However, for How the West Was Won, beholding of a truly epic and somewhat ambitious storyline wasn't nearly enough. Here, you have what is undoubtedly the greatest, TRULY all-star cast that has ever been assembled for a Western, before or since: John Wayne, Jimmy Stewart, Gregory Peck, Richard Widmark, Henry Fonda, Spencer Tracy, Debbie Reynolds, Eli Wallach, Walter Brennan, and even one of the shorts directed by John Ford…well, I seriously doubt any other Western has spared such little expense in trying to create what is essentially the ‘ultimate' Western for Western fans.

For all intents and purposes, How the West Was Won stands as being perhaps the last, great final thrust for the types of Westerns that were produced during the Golden Age, before they would go on to make space for the Revisionist Westerns. The film essentially sits on the cusp of the time when names like Wayne, Ford, and Hawks were slipping from what the norms would later in the decade be for the Western genre, their names replaced with the likes of Eastwood, Leone, and Peckinpah. And, at times, the film's adherence to the thoughts and practices of the Golden Age really come to the forefront; for example, at one point, narrator Spencer Tracy quips about the Native Americans as being ‘savages', which, of course, was an usual depiction of the Indians during many of the Westerns from the Golden Age. In fact, one could indeed say that the movie is all about the glorifying of the ‘conquering' of the frontiers of America by the white man, and how great Manifest Destiny was. However, despite these somewhat tortuous discrepancies (tortuous considering the age we now live in), HtWwW stands as being a monumental achievement in the Western genre, and one of such magnitude in both scope and stars that we'll more-than-likely never see again. It's ending is a haunting tribute to just what said conquering left us with, as we see the once lush landscape of America fade into a land covered in stark buildings of concrete and metal that reach out high into the sky. A proud monument to progress, or a sad reminder of what the land was reduced to? I go with the latter.

45. Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (1973)



Directed by the great Sam Peckinpah, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid obviously recounts the story between the famous wanted outlaw on the run and the outlaw's once-friend turned honorary sheriff hired on to bring him down. For those that don't know the real-life history between the two icons of the West, Pat Garrett and William H. Bonney (a.k.a. Billy the Kid) became acquaintances after Garrett, a former buffalo hunter, moved to Lincoln County, New Mexico and opened up a saloon, which the Kid frequented. In late 1880, Garrett was elected as the new sheriff of Lincoln County after running on the promise of ridding the area of rustlers and such, and soon found himself charged with the task of bringing the now-notorious Billy the Kid to justice. Of course, Garrett would eventually do just that; though Bonney was captured at one point and convicted, he would go on to escape from jail…but not from Garrett. On July 14th, 1881, Pat Garrett famously (or infamously, depending on which story you believe) stole into Bonney's sleeping chambers in Fort Sumner, and shot him dead. Of course, the different stories come from different sources that were there: Garrett himself contends that the Kid had a drawn pistol, and Garrett just happened to be one that fired first (which Garrett would claim himself in his autobiography); the other story paints the picture that Bonney was either unarmed or armed with only a knife, and that Garrett shot him dead on first sight. Of course, the Old West being the strange place that it was, Billy the Kid, notorious outlaw, would go on to be a legend shortly after his own time (if not actually DURING his own time) due to dime-store novels and such depicting fictional escapades, and the populace would turn on Garrett, labeling him a coward for allegedly killing an unarmed Bonney. To this day, Billy the Kid remains to be infamous, and, arguably, perhaps the single most iconic outlaw that the United States of America has ever seen…perhaps even that North America has ever seen.

The main theme for the film is one of the most timeless themes that stands abreast of most Westerns, that being of the West receding, dying, to be replaced by ‘progress'. In this film, the ‘end' of it all stands as coming to an end when Billy the Kid dies, which both the Kid and Garrett recognize as inevitable. The Kid sees the change coming, and he refuses to change along with it; Garrett, on the other hand, has seen the change, and submits to it accordingly, vowing to hunt down Billy the Kid and bring him to justice. Yet, while both can see the change, neither one is really all that eager to see it through: Billy the Kid keeps running from it instead of choosing to meet it head on, all the while refusing to give in to it; Garrett tarries about here and there, and generally drags his feet in his attempts to capture the Kid, to the point that, at one point in the film, one his partners claims that Garrett has no intentions of putting the Kid away for good. The film (probably like a lot of Peckinpah's films) is about death…the death of Billy the Kid, the death of his friendship with Pat Garrett, the death of the Old West and its ways. But that's not what audiences and critics saw when the film was first released.

The film Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid would go on to be rather infamous as well, though for (obviously) different reasons than the real life men and events that the film depicts. Peckinpah was notoriously difficult to work with when it came to the studios, particularly when it came to post-production, as Sam nearly always fought to the extreme to get the cut of the film that he wanted, which is a good thing from the artist's point of view. However, Peckinpah didn't always win the good fight; I'd imagine that he was probably fairly crude and pushy to a fault when it came to dealing with the proverbial ‘hand that fed him', meaning the studio…which is why what happened to Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid happened. The producer of the film, after dealing heatedly with Peckinpah over the editing of the film, released to the general public an out-and-out butchered cut of the movie, one that was received with a great deal of negativity from the likes of the audiences as well as the critics. I'm not sure whether the producer would in fact ‘shoot himself in the foot' by going the route of intentionally cutting the movie in such a horrible way, but needless to say that the film was panned to the extreme and died a quick death in theaters. However, when the film saw release on home video in 1988, Turner Home Video released the ‘Director's Cut' of the film, which was the first time that Peckinpah's version of the film was viewed by both audiences and critics, and…it was universally thought to be a much better, much different movie than what they had seen years earlier in the theaters. It was hailed as being a ‘lost classic' by most, and has since earned its spot amongst Peckinpah's greatest Westerns. It should, as it's a well-acted, well-directed film.

44. 3:10 to Yuma (2007)



It's been a standing argument between fans of Westerns since this film's release as to whether or not this 2007 remake is actually better than the first 3:10 to Yuma, which was created in 1957. Of course, it's no different than the arguments that precede ANY remake, but the difference with this particular film that isn't necessarily a question when it comes to a lot of other remakes; in THIS particular case, both the original film AND the remake are stellar pictures. For my money, I obviously prefer the remake, as I do indeed that, in most respects, it IS the stronger film, though the original does indeed do some things better than the 2007 version…just not enough, which is why the original just narrowly missed the list. I would have placed it as an Honorable Mention, but I felt that it would have given too much away. But, rest assured, the 2007 version is better on the whole, in my opinion.

In 3:10 to Yuma, a farmer named Dan Evans has fallen on hard times, owing money to another, vicious gentleman, who wishes to strong-arm Evans out of his land and then turn around and sell it to the railroads. By chance while rounding up his cattle, Evans and his boy happen upon notorious outlaw Ben Wade and his gang, who leave the two tied up. When the two are found, Evans is instrumental in helping the law find Wade, and, after the outlaw has been apprehended, takes on the duty of helping to escort Wade to a certain train, set to depart to Yuma Prison…for the fee of two-hundred dollars, with which Evans would use to settle up with the man that he owes money to. At the end of the trip, however, Evans finds that he's the only one willing to take Wade through true peril, in order to receive his money…but not necessarily justice.

Now, apart from what should be expected from a remake created forty years after the original (i.e. production values, cinematography, etc.), a large portion of what makes this version better than the original is the fact that the acting here is TRULY outstanding…and with Christian Bale and Russell Crowe in the two main leads (as Evans and Wade, respectively), how could it not be? Both men deliver fantastic performances, rendering both of their respective characters as being truly intriguing. Crowe's Wade is particularly a fascinating character, as it's teased several times throughout whether or not the man is actually that bad of a fellow; he does indeed do bad things, but does that really mean that he's a bad man, or just a product of his times? Evans is willing to escort the murderous outlaw to his place of judgment, but not for the sake of seeing bad deeds punished; Evans' motivations are, quite frankly, desperate and perhaps a bit selfish, and whether or not Wade was innocent or not in the deeds that's said he's done matters little to Evans, as long as he gets his money. All in all, the film stands as being a very well done character study between the two men, and that same study is pushed truly to the forefront due to the great performances given by two of this generations greatest actors. The one, big thing that I think that the original does better than this remake is the ending, as it just comes off better. Still though, that doesn't change the fact that this film is one of this decades finest Westerns, and will probably remain to be so after the decade comes to a close.

43. Young Guns (1988)



I've long thought that if you were a child/teenager in the decade of the 1980's, either born in the late-70's or early-80's, you've probably seen Young Guns at some point in your life…whether you were/are a fan of Westerns or not. I say that for the mere reason that it seems that nearly everybody I know that was born around the same time that I was has seen this movie, even those people that I'm associated with that absolutely loathe Westerns claims to have seen and liked Young Guns. Now, just in case you don't know, the film Young Guns stands as being another film about the notorious outlaw, Billy the Kid. However, unlike in Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, this particular movie doesn't focus on William H. Bonney's final days; instead, I suppose you could consider Young Guns to be somewhat of an origin story for the iconic Old West figure, as the film opens up with Billy essentially going from a homeless ‘scamp' to being brought in by landowner John Tunstall as a part of his personal ‘Regulators', a group of young ne'er-do-wells that Tunstall took in to look after his land and, basically, give them another shot at a decent life. As it goes, John Tunstall would be murdered in cold blood by a group of toughs dispatched by Tunstall's rival, another, presumably wealthier landowner named Murphy (played by Jack Palance, who always makes a fantastic villain), kicking off the legendary Lincoln County War (which is what the film depicts). Soon, Billy and the rest of the Regulators would be made honorary deputies, for the reasoning of helping to bring their slain ‘father-figure's' killers to justice not as vigilantes, but as according to the law. Of course, Billy and the others in the group don't really give a crap about the law, and essentially go the route of vigilantism in bringing about their vengeance.

I'd be willing to presume that to those few people out there that haven't seen Young Guns, they just might be turned off by casting one glance at the cover of the thing – depending entirely on how much they despise the ‘beautiful young people' of Hollywood, of which Young Guns seems to try and fit in as many of the hot, young male teeny-bopper stars of the 1980's ‘group' as was possible, starring the likes of Charlie Sheen, Emilio Estevez, Lou Diamond Phillips, and Kiefer Sutherland (as well as Casey Siemaszko and Dermot Mulroney, which rounds out the cast of those who play the outlaws). As such, it would be okay for someone who knows nothing about the movie to believe that the good-looking sausage-fest that Young Guns presents to us was little more than a ruse by 20th Century Fox, a ruse constructed in order simply to lure both young men who liked action films AND young girls who swooned over the guys in the cast to see the picture. Heck, that might even be true, to a certain extent…but the fact of the matter is that the movie came out great – much greater than it probably had any right to be, all things considered. In a way, the film is almost a throwback to the Golden Age of Westerns, to films such as 1939's Jesse James, where another notorious outlaw of the Old West was given the ‘misunderstood bad-guy' treatment. All of the pretty boys starring here put on a much better show than one would probably expect, particularly when their roles are a part of a Western film; for example, with his bright-eyed look and infectious laugh and humor, it's easy to get into Estevez' portrayal of Billy the Kid…and probably not to hard to believe that that's how Bonney acted in real life (another particular stand-out is Mulroney as Dirty Steve, which is one of my favorite characters ever). The gun-battles are another aspect of this film that makes it great, as all are exciting and well-crafted, particularly that of the final battle during the Regulators' last, daring escape. In the end, it was a bit tough for me to really find a suitable place on the list for Young Guns; obviously, I love the movie, and I've loved it since I was a kid. However, when it came to judging as to whether or not I personally felt that it was great enough to be near the top of the list (which is where I was originally apt to place it, in the Top 30 somewhere), I ultimately decided that it wasn't, though I'm sure many out there would disagree with that. Still though, it's a rather large feather in the cap of this film that I consider it to be at least one of ther greats. Nonetheless, you can't go wrong with Young Guns, and I'd even put the sequel (Young Guns II) on par with this one in terms of enjoyment and quality.

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Okay, that's it for this week, and I hope you enjoy what you see thus far. Now, before I go, I have a special announcement to make…once I reach the end of my Westerns list (which would be another four weeks' worth), I will also be reaching the end of my tenure here at 411mania. You see, recently, after much prodding from co-workers, higher-ups, and friends, I decided to return to college, seeing as how I'm miserable at my current menial job, though it also pays just enough that it would be stupid of me to out-and-out quit and locate a new job that probably would pay less. At any rate, this wasn't a decision that I came to lightly, and the decision in and of itself completely hinged on my memories from my first run at a college education. I believe I've spoken on it before, but needless to say that, upon my entrance to Central Missouri State University back in the fall of 2000, I was a member of the Honors College, with a GPA of roughly 3.8; when I left, I had a GPA of 1.6, and was essentially kicked out of school on an ‘academic probation'…though that mattered little, since I had already completely stopped attending classes the semester before. That last semester, I signed up for several classes with the thought that I'd make things right and be dutiful in my schooling, and, of course, I went that first day then never returned. That pretty much sums up my college career; I'm an intelligent enough fellow that should have had a degree by now, but, instead, I gave in to distractions and confusion during college. When I dropped out in late 2002, I swore that I'd return after the spring semester and the summer was over…but I didn't. Now, I'm not sure if writing for 411 would distract me all THAT much from my upcoming college work, though it could, as I put a lot of work and time into my columns almost every week. At any rate, I ultimately decided to go in to school with a clean slate, with nothing on my plate that could take my time and attention away from learnin', and so, I decided to give up writing here at 411. Larry told me that the door would be open for me to return if I wished, and, if I either fail miserably at college again or if I discover that I would indeed be able to write for the site and not have it detract from my schoolwork, then I'd have no problem in returning here. After all, I've thoroughly enjoyed writing for 411mania, as it's the first time that I've wrote something – ANYTHING – and put it before people to read. Of course, you didn't get to read any of my fiction writings, mainly because I ultimately didn't have the nerve to post THAT, but still, I think that I had a great run.

Anyway, see you next week!