Ten Deep 6.11.09: 50 Great Westerns: #21-#12!

Posted by Lucas Huddleston on 06.11.2009

As we near the 'nitty-gritty', 411's Lucas Huddleston gets to the REAL hard part in assembling a Westerns list -- the near-flawless films.

Hello, and welcome to Ten Deep: Week 34! This is going up a day late, as there were some rather nasty thunderstorms that rolled through mid-Missouri last night...nasty enough to effectively knock out my internet capabilities. So, I apologize for the delay.

Now, I know that I'd have eleven entrants this week so that I didn't have to go out on my Top 11, but, as fate would have it, I actually thought that going out on the Top 11 would be better served for my own conscience, as I consider the films that consist of my Top 10 to be perfect...and I also consider the film that I have at Number 11 to be a perfect, four-star film as well. As such, it seemed only fitting that I include it in the final week with the other perfect Westerns. Also, just in case I run out of ample enough space to do this next week, I'd like to take this time to say good-bye. I've had fun writing for 411, and though I didn't get paid to do it, it was a great experience, as I've proven to myself that something I write can be accepted and (basically) published. It was a great confidence booster to a man that, at times, is woefully lacking in the trust of his talents, and hopefully one day I'll be able to make a career of writing. Of course, I doubt my writings would be about movies. The greatest compliments that I recieved whilst doing this 'gig' weren't those of how good the list was, or whatever (though I liked them, regardless); I always took much more pride in those comments that said that I was a good writer, or that the column was well-written. At any rate, I hope you've enjoyed my stuff, and if I can't find the space to say so next week, I'd like to say thank you, and good-bye.

50 GREAT WESTERNS: #21-#12!

21. The Gunfighter (1950)



A few weeks ago, in regards to my write-up on a 1976 John Wayne film titled The Shootist, I essentially gave the backstory to this film. Needless to say that when the script for The Gunfighter was initially thrown around, so to speak, John Wayne desperately wanted to play the lead role in that film, the role of an aging gunfighter named Jimmy Ringo, who wished to retire though his reputation prevented that from happening, and Wayne pushed as hard as he could to get the part. However, the problem with Wayne getting the role wasn't for the reason of Wayne being refused the part for someone else, and how could it? Wayne was riding what was undoubtedly his peak at the time. No, Wayne himself REFUSED the part that he so desperately wanted, for one reason and one reason only: a grudge. You see, the rights to The Gunfighter were initially owned by Columbia Pictures and it's president/production director, Harry Cohn…who reportedly bought the rights the to film for the sole reason of GIVING the part to John Wayne. However, Wayne held a great deal of contempt towards Cohn for perceived mistreatment of the actor from the days that Wayne was a bit-player in Columbia B-movies and such, and, thus, Wayne refused to work for Cohn and Columbia Pictures. Ultimately, Cohn would sell the movie rights to Twentieth Century Fox, and Gregory Peck would land the part of Jimmy Ringo…though Wayne would never forget ‘the one that got away'.

The film opens with Jimmy Ringo riding across the plains, happening upon a small town along the way. After an unspecified time of riding, Ringo decides to stop by the local saloon, in order to rest up for a minute and have a drink. Of course, seeing as how Ringo is widely known as being the fastest and greatest gunfighter in the West, his face is as widely well-known as his face. Before even having the chance to finish his drink, a young man strides up to Ringo and insults him, wishing to test the famous though aging gun-hand…and attracted to the possibility of becoming famous himself, as ‘the man who shot Jimmy Ringo'. However, the youngster's plans don't quite go as he planned, as Ringo proves to be the faster and better shooter even though the kid drew first, leaving the young man face down on the saloon floor. As such, Ringo shoves off into the wild again…all the while being hounded by the young man's three brothers, who seek revenge against Ringo for their brother's death. Upon watching The Gunfighter, it's fairly easy to see just why John Wayne so desperately sought after the part of Jimmy Ringo; the character is, by most respects, quite an anomaly in regards to the many characters that permeated the Western landscape of the Golden Age of the genre. You see, in most other Westerns of the time, a character such as Ringo would have been glorified in whatever film it was that he appeared in – the great gunfighter, strong and noble. Ringo, however, isn't really all that strong or noble; he is, instead, miserable and alone, for as film's tagline says, ‘His only friend was his gun'. In fact, despite the fact that the three men are hounding at his heels, Ringo tarries a bit too long in a nearby town, for the sole reason of reconciling with his wife and meeting his estranged son…a son that has no knowledge of who his father is. It's insinuated that Ringo chose his lifestyle years prior, when after the break up of his ‘gang' (it's never implied as being as such, though I've always felt as that's what they were), Ringo was the only to continue on with his gunslinging ways. Perhaps he loved the lifestyle at the time; perhaps he craved fame and a sense of pride that one would think to accompany being ‘famous'. To Ringo, however, he learns over the years that the label of being the West's best gunfighter isn't a blessing, or a badge of pride; it's a curse…and one that, by film's end, he's more than happy to pass on to another ambitious young gunhand who seeks the fame that Ringo has attained. While The Gunfigher stands as being a somewhat ‘small scale' Western when placed near true heavyweights of the genre, it's strengths shine through all the more when such an act is done – the film relates a very human and sympathetic tale, told through the vessel of one of the most intriguing characters to have ever been placed within a Western…a character that is just as human and sympathetic as his story, which is a nice change of pace and more than a bit unique considering the Western landscape of the 1950's.

20. True Grit (1969)



One of the most common misstatements and flat-out wrong assumptions that most non-fans of John Wayne have is this – John Wayne doesn't so much play the parts of any one individual and/or unique character; John Wayne simply plays John Wayne. I, for one, obviously don't share this same point of view. I do, however, can see where those that do think as such would get the idea of it all. John Wayne is, as I'm sure you all know, a truly larger-than-life figure in the annals of movie history; nearly everything about his physical semblance has long since veered off into near-mythic status. His voice is easily recognized by nearly everybody and anybody that has even a passing knowledge in regards to American cinema. His face, size, and legendary swagger have all passed into the territories of the iconic. His movies – even those that don't quite measure up in terms of the quality of the larger breadth of his work – will seemingly have an incredibly strong fan-base for eternity, as even though the Duke long since passed from this world nearly thirty years ago, his work in film continues to be popular, particularly his Westerns, and with each passing year more and more people become exposed to the legendary actors body of work with positive results. As such, I can understand where detractors of the man's acting abilities are coming from – to them, Wayne is perhaps the ultimate ‘movie star', as opposed to being an ‘actor'. I've always hated such bandying of terms, yet still, I wouldn't harp on somebody claiming the differences between Wayne's performance in McLintock! to the Duke's performance in North to Alaska. I would readily admit that such roles are undoubtedly ‘Wayne' roles, though both movies are really good watches. However, to group the truly great performances of Wayne's in with the likes of his comedic stuff or even his mediocre stuff is criminal. To do so is to basically and essentially crap on the great Wayne turns by way of characters such as Ethan Edwards, Thomas Dunson, and, perhaps most importantly in terms of recognition towards Wayne's acting talents, Rooster Cogburn, the protagonist of True Grit. While True Grit may not be Wayne's most iconic Western, nor even his best, the character of the aged, ‘fat', alcoholic, eye-patch wearing Rooster Cogburn itself may very well stand as probably being Wayne's most iconic role.

In the plot of the film, a young 14-year old girl named Mattie Ross (Kim Darby) ventures to a nearby town in order to seek out justice for her father, who was slain at the hands of one of his hired-help. After prodding the local sheriff as to why her father's slayer has yet to been brought to justice, the sheriff tells the young girl that the man has slunk out into Indian territory…which just so happens to be out of the sheriff's jurisdiction. The sheriff then tells her of a United States Marshals would be able to handle; telling the man that she wants a man with ‘grit', Mattie learns of, for the first time, the name Rooster Cogburn – an ornery old cuss with a habit of bringing back wanted men broken and beaten, or, worse still, in a coffin. As such, she approaches Cogburn, and while he at first brushes her off as he knows that the man that Mattie is looking has since holed up with notorious outlaw Ned Peppers (Robert Duvall), he ultimately agrees to help young Mattie out…and the nice, tidy sum of one-hundred dollars. And so, with a young Texas Ranger named LeBoeuf (played by musician Glenn Campbell, and who is searching for the same man as Mattie) accompanying them, the unlikely duo set off…with Mattie's involvement being much to the chagrin of both Cogburn and LeBoeuf. To be honest with you, while there are indeed a mass of people who love this movie, there are also those that would undoubtedly claim that the film shouldn't be ranked near as high as it is, and those people that DO look down on True Grit mainly do so in light of the acting…other than the Duke's performance, of course. Kim Darby is, in my opinion, quite good in the role of Mattie; there are, admittedly, a few times where her performance is a bit annoying or grating, but on the whole everything's okay by me, particularly in regards to her chemistry with Wayne, as the scenes that the two share are usually fabulous in the movie. The OTHER, and perhaps biggest, problem with the acting that some seem to have is in regards to Campbell's performance, and that one I can at least somewhat agree with. Campbell wasn't a very accomplished actor at the time (though he got the role at Wayne's insistence, as the two were friends), and there are times where his performance comes off as being…well, amateurish; yet, on the whole, Campbell really didn't detract any from the film itself, in my opinion.

However, and quite obviously, the REAL reason to see the picture is for the Duke himself, as Rooster. Now, I would daresay that with the previously mentioned characters of Ethan Edwards and Tom Dunson, Wayne would deliver two truly exquisite, subtle performances to multi-dimensional characters; the character of Rooster, and thus Wayne's performance, in True Grit, however, is anything BUT multi-dimensional…but that's not to mean that it's bad. In fact, its great, as Rooster Cogburn is almost a caricature of the types of roles that Wayne usually inhabited in the Westerns in which he starred. What's more is that, while Rooster Cogburn may not be the most subtly-charged performance of Wayne's career, it is, in fact, by far his most animated, in my opinion (which is all the more impressive, considering that a few short years before this film was produced, Wayne had had an entire lung removed due to cancer, and thus was nearly unable to walk more than thirty feet without becoming completely winded) – anytime Rooster is on-screen, whether he's chugging down a bottle of whiskey or telling a spirited story, he's the focus of attention. As such, Rooster, and more specifically Wayne's performance of the character in True Grit, would indeed garner a lot of attention; in fact, Wayne would go on to be awarded later on that year the Best Actor award at the Academy Awards, perhaps marking the first time that Wayne truly got the recognition that he deserved in regards to his acting abilities. The character and the film itself as released in 1969 would also prove to be quite popular with audiences too, as in 1975, a sequel was made titled Rooster Cogburn, pairing Wayne with Katherine Hepburn. Despite how some may feel about the acting in the supporting roles, True Grit harbors one of the Duke's very best performances in one of the very best roles that he was ever given, and as such, should place high on just about anybody's list of favorite Westerns.

19. The Ox-Bow Incident (1943)



A few weeks back during my write-up on 1968's Hang ‘Em High, starring Clint Eastwood, I stated that it was one of the very first (if not THE very first) Westerns featuring one of the Big Two icons of the genre, meaning Eastwood, naturally. I also went to give my feelings on the film, stating that it stands as indeed being a truly great Western; however, I also said something else about the movie, the one negative aspect that I feel that the film features. If you don't recall, Hang ‘Em High told the story about a man that was waylaid by a posse, a posse that then attempted to hang an innocent man for a crime he didn't commit. The man survived, going on to become a deputy in order to lawfully carry out his vengeance with law and justice on his side, bringing in wanted criminals to be lawfully strung from the neck until dead…on public display. Due to the seeming spectacle of the deaths, the man found himself wondering about the true differences between a man being lynched by a mob in the wild, as opposed to men being condemned to death by government officials and hanged in a public arena for all to see; to the man, he couldn't help but begin to feel that the two had more in common in their atrocities than honest men would care to admit. However, that's about as far as Hang ‘Em High took that thought – just barely and oh-so-quickly veering off into that territory before ducking out again to focus on the revenge-driven plot. Ultimately, such a thing doesn't really harm the movie in any real fashion, though I myself feel as though Hang ‘Em High didn't quite have the nerve to further explore the rights or wrongs of corporal punishment and the death penalty, and, as such, I've always felt as though Hang ‘Em High, while great, wasn't all that it truly could have been. Of course, Hang ‘Em High's negligence to delve into that certain theme wasn't all THAT big of a loss regardless, as the definitive and premier film on ‘lynchings' had been created nearly thirty years earlier – 1943's The Ox-Bow Incident.

Based on a 1940 novel of the same name by Walter van Tilburg Clark, the plot of the film begins with two riders, Art (Harry Morgan) and Gil (Henry Fonda), entering into the town of Bridger's Wells. Upon entering into the local saloon, the two find that many of the townsfolk are predisposed with catching some cattle-rustlers that have been stealing livestock recently; since the two men are strangers in town and not known to the citizenry there, they are immediately suspected to be the thieves. However, before any hostilities can break out, a man rides into town on horseback, stating that a local rancher has been murdered. Concluding that the cattle rustlers and the murder of the local man are related and perpetrated by the same thieves, the locals immediately form a posse to set out in search of the murderers, including Art and Gil, who join up primarily to escape being suspected once again. Though the local judge tells the posse that they must bring the man/men back alive if found, the posse seemingly disregards the judge's statements. Soon, the group sets upon a trio of men sleeping, a herd of cattle grazing nearby. Naturally, the mob assumes that the herd is stolen cattle from the area despite the claims of the men that the cattle is theirs, and instantly cry out for the heads of the three men, their fates decided – the three are to be lynched at dawn, though there is no concrete evidence that states that the three men are indeed the rustlers OR the murderers. Of course, the main theme that's explored during the film isn't so much the question as to whether or not ‘plains justice' is equal to a government decreed death penalty, or vice versa; rather, the primary idea that's delved into through the proceedings of The Ox-Bow Incident is instead focused on the mob mentality, and the horrors and near futility of true justice and/or the question of ‘what is right' that are more than likely to stem from a group of single-minded, emotion-driven people. As such, it's definitely a serious, direr subject that greatly separates the film from other Westerns that were produced within the same time period…and it's a subject matter that carries resonance with it through the ages, even in the world – and America – of today. It's a bit sad that The Ox-Bow Incident is a largely forgotten film, particularly in regards to the Western genre. It deserves much, MUCH more than what it has received.

18. The Cowboys (1972)



As it stands, The Cowboys has long been my mother's favorite Western, as it's notable in her mind as being the one Western that made her cry…and we all know how much them women just love to watch movies that make them cry. As such, it should go without saying that I grew up watching The Cowboys, and it has always stood as being one of my favorites, as well. As I'm sure you already know, the film stars John Wayne, and seeing as how it was 1972, the film was created and released only four short years before the Duke's final film (1976's The Shootist). As such, the Wayne's age, the effects of his prior illness, and the new cancer that was growing within him had undoubtedly hindered Wayne in the types of roles that the man had once been accustomed to playing – namely, essentially Action-star roles, for the most part. Perhaps it's just me, but Wayne's performance and casting as the aging Will Andersen in this film separates the Duke's latter years from his earlier performances. Here, Wayne has slid effortlessly into the role of ‘father figure', an old man that, while not broken indefinitely for good as yet, was indeed nearing that breaking point…even though he himself didn't quite know it at the time. As such, and as with several of Wayne's later roles, the Duke's performance just seems to be that much more heartfelt than was typical of the vast majority of his earlier films.

In The Cowboys, cattleman Will Andersen (Wayne) finds himself nearing the time of the year in which he must begin his yearly 400-mile cattle drive, in order to put his stock on the train in the town of Belle Fourche. However, while the time of hard work is upon him, he finds that every single one of his ranch-hands has deserted him, leaving in search of gold in the nearby Ruby River. Facing financial ruin, Andersen seeks out help in his local area, but can find no grown and experienced men to aid him in his drive; he does, however, eventually find the help that he needs…in the form of a group of young schoolboys, whose ages range from fifteen years old to around eight or nine. Unwilling to take them on at first, Andersen eventually relents out of necessity (as well as having the boys prove themselves), and soon, Andersen sets out with his ‘cowboys'. In terms of themes dealing with a movie with such a plot, the film is essentially about growing up and making the transition from boyhood to manhood, making such maturations through hard-work and discipline…all with the slowly fading ‘man's man' John Wayne as the boys' teacher. As such, it covers the broad scheme of things that deal with such a notion as ‘growing up', from being truthful and loyal, to being respectful, swearing, and even shedding a little light on sex (in what was a controversial aspect of the film in its initial release, as the boys happen upon a traveling brothel). Of course, the film is also a Western, and as such it also deals with death…and when the deaths are of a few young kids, there's always a bit of emotion that will undoubtedly seep through in some way. Even the Duke dies in this one, killed from behind by the hand of Bruce Dern, in a move that garnered quite the strong audience reaction that Dern would go on to be typecast as the villain from then on out. While The Cowboys may not be one of Wayne's better KNOWN films (as it seems to never be spoken of near as often as many of his other films), the movie without a shadow of a doubt stands as being one of the man's BEST films, and a must-see for those wishing to see the Duke at his best in the twilight of his career, and in a film that he doesn't carry single-handedly on his back.

17. For a Few Dollars More (1965)



Honestly, when choosing between the first two installments of Sergio Leone's classic ‘Dollars Trilogy' in regards to which is the better film, it's always been a tough call…to me, at least. In my honest opinion, I view both pictures as basically being on par with one another, at least in terms of quality. As such, any distinction and judgments to be made in regards to which classic is the more superior all boils down to two aspects of the respective films that one must choose between which is more deserving of accolades: the first film is perhaps by FAR the more important of the two, as it essentially gave life to a genre and played a fairly large hand in helping to usher in a new era for the Western genre; the second, however, helped to exacerbate the greatness of its director (Leone), and, in nearly all respects, the better crafted film in terms of technical aspects. If you've read my columns at all within the past thirty-three weeks, I'm sure you know that which of those two ‘discerning marks' (i.e. historical importance opposed to better production values) I side with – historical importance. However, whereas A Fistful of Dollars may be MORE important in terms of historical value than its sequel, that by no means should be taken as meaning that For a Few Dollars More has no historical value to speak of whatsoever; in fact, it played almost as crucial a role in the growth and acceptance of the Spaghetti Western as the first film did…'almost' being the operative word, as it, unfortunately, came second. But nonetheless, don't let that deter you in the least.

In For a Few Dollars More, Clint (‘Squint') Eastwood reprises his role as the Man with No Name…though it almost – ALMOST – didn't happen. You see, shortly after A Fistful of Dollars was released in Italian theaters in 1964, it became a massive box-office smash; it proved so popular and so successful that Leone and the production company wasted little time in beginning work on a sequel to the film. However, Leone felt that the success of such a sequel hinged on the involvement of star Eastwood, who was reluctant to reprise his role as the Man with No Name, and only for one, simple reason – he had yet to see the first film, and thus, he had no clue as to what Leone's vision looked like when in its completed form, as A Fistful of Dollars wouldn't see a United States release until 1967, three years after its release in Italy. Leone and his producer would quickly send Eastwood a print of the film in Italian; Eastwood, having no idea just what the film would actually look like and more than a bit hesitant, ultimately watched the film…and soon found that any and all trepidations that he may have had were completely unfounded. As such, Eastwood would quickly agree to return to Leone and shoot the second film, returning to the Man with No Name along the way. The plot of the film once again sees Eastwood and his character returning to the ways of bounty-hunting, as this time he's in search of a notorious outlaw known by El Indio; however, the Man with No Name soon finds that he's not the only man in search of the infamous bandit and, more importantly, the reward that's placed on his head – the Man in Black, as played by Lee Van Cleef…though there may be something a bit more ‘personal' in his hunt of El Indio. Naturally of course, Eastwood is great in the role of the Man with No Name, as he forever was; Van Cleef, however, would also be quite the standout in this film, and impressionable enough on audiences and Leone himself that he would return for the third film in the Dollars Trilogy, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. However, what this film really stands for as being notable – with the exception that it's notable as being a great film, period – is the fact that the movie showcases a good deal of progression in terms of Leone's directing style…which, in turn, was already great to begin with, by most regards, as the director's marriage between style and substance truly began to mesh here. In the end, For a Few Dollars More is a film that has the unfortunate fate of being placed between two ever-popular and admired films within the Dollars Trilogy…or, at least, it would be unfortunate to MOST second films that would find themselves in such a unique situation. For a Few Dollars More, however, shines nearly as brightly as its universally beloved younger and (especially) older siblings.

16. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)



Now, in case you don't know, the 1969 film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is based on actual people and events, though loosely based as it is. Butch Cassidy, in reality, was a rather infamous bank-robber in his time, the leader of a gang of outlaws in the late 18th Century/early-19th Century – a gang called the Wild Bunch. Now, I know what you're thinking, and no, this film, nor does the characters of Butch, Sundance, or their gang have anything to do with Sam Peckinpah's seminal Western-classic, The Wild Bunch (at least, not all that directly, though some could indeed probably draw some comparisons/inspirations with Peckinpah's film in regards to the life of Cassidy and his gang). However, the two films of The Wild Bunch and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid DID indeed have a direct effect on one another. You see, both films found themselves in production around the same time (both were also, in fact, released in 1969, as well), and, of course, the minds behind the two films were quick to notice this. Of course, The Wild Bunch was able to beat Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid to theaters, and, as a result, the name of Butch's gang in the film was changed from the Wild Bunch in order to avoid confusion with Peckinpah's movie, changed to the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang. However, the comparisons and contrasts between those two films don't necessarily end with any similarities to be found in the stories or in the gangs themselves. Both films deal with the same themes, specifically that of the changing of the West and the edging out of the old ways, a theme that is symbolized through a bicycle. In fact, I would argue to the death that, in the end, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, though in production around the same time as The Wild Bunch would end up being the complete antithesis to Peckinpah's film; it is, in a way, the ‘Anti-Wild Bunch picture, released just months after the other. Whereas The Wild Bunch was often brutal, excessively violent at times, and overall fairly bleak, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, while action-packed, isn't really violent at all. It's light-hearted in its nature, and, in truth, the film is presented with an almost comedic-slant. In fact, I'd ALMOST venture to say that the movie could be considered a Western-Comedy…almost. In actuality, it's not an out-and-out Comedy, which causes me to be somewhat loathe in classifying it as such; nearly all of the cute, funny moments that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid harbors is in direct result of the film's two main performers – two of the greatest of in the history of cinema.

Without the likes of Paul Newman and Robert Redford in the roles of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (respectively), any and all of the humorous aspects of the script would fall flat on its face, in my opinion – and it's a smart and witty script. The plot of the film itself relates the story of Butch and Sundance in full swing of their thieving ways, in their peak, so to speak. As such, Butch, Sundance, and the entire Hole-in-the-Wall Gang has attained a very public profile, and after knocking over a train belonging to a wealthy businessman, said businessman hires a group of ‘all-star' lawmen to hunt down the outlaws and bring them to justice – ANY kind of justice, including killing the men. Not entirely enjoying their newfound lifestyle of literally living on the run at every hour of the day, Butch, Sundance, and Sundance's main squeeze, Etta Candy (played by Katherine Ross, Sam Elliott's real life wife) decide to shove off to Bolivia. Once in the less developed country, the three find the act of robbing to be incredibly easy…and also that the law itself may be a bit more ruthless than that back in the States. Needless to say, this film has certainly attained classic status not only in the Western genre, but also that of film as a whole, and the fact that the movie is so well-done plays heavily into such a thing. However, as I said before, the real standout aspect of the film that makes is truly timeless lies in the two stars of the film: Newman and Redford. Now, if you love movies and movie history, I'm sure that you've no doubt heard about how great the Newman/Redford pairing is – no doubt hearing that the two are truly the greatest acting duo in history when sharing a film. In my honest opinion, not only is Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid the very first pairing of the two legends, it also stands as being the greatest of the movies that the two men starred in together. The two, quite simply, make the film great, and are easily the one true reason for anybody to watch the movie. The way that Newman and Redford play off of and interact with another is where nearly all the humorous aspects of the film come to life…which is why I say that had any other two men been cast in those two respective roles, the film would have undoubtedly been rendered into being less than what it is with Newman and Redford at the forefront. The performances of those two great actors go a very, VERY long way in truly painting their characters as being as sympathetic and likeable as they are, as well. This would also mark Redford's breakthrough film, and, as the two men's lives would play out, neither of the two stars would forget the impact that the greatness of this movie had on their careers. Paul Newman would go on to name one of his charity organizations for sick children the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang Camp; Redford would label a certain film festival that he started up the Sundance Film Festival. While most nowadays would consider The Wild Bunch to be the superior film of the two ‘sister' projects, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid would have the most immediate impact, as the film would end the year of 1969 as being that particular year's highest grossing film, and would prove popular enough to eventually spawn both a sequel and a prequel (neither with Newman or Redford involved). While not typically considered as being a part of the Golden Age of the Western, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, in my opinion, stands as being a fabulous send-off to that bygone era, as a light-hearted and exceedingly fun Western in the mold of this film was a rarity in the post-Revisionist era for Westerns. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid stands as being a Western that I'd almost guarantee ANYBODY would love…fans of Westerns or not.

15. Dances With Wolves (1990)



In terms of historical importance to the Western genre as it pertains to the legacy of film, there are, of course, quite a few standouts that helped to shape, define, or even redefine the Western in cinematic terms. You, of course, think of Sergio Leone's A Fistful of Dollars as being worth a hefty weight of historical value in regards to the Spaghetti Western and the Revisionist Western movement; Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch is also of great importance in regards to shaping the Revisionist Western landscape. You think of the definitive films of the Golden Age of the Western, such as John Ford's Stagecoach, or Howard Hawks' Red River. However, once you get to the 1970's, such vitally important films that help to shape, popularize, or open new doors and perceptions for such things as ‘genres' (which can become stale through being derivative) seem to slow down, before grinding to a halt all together by the late-1970's. As I've said before, by the 1980's, the Western as a viable film genre had fallen on hard times, and fans of Westerns soon found themselves in the midst of a veritable drought of their beloved Westerns. Of course, there were some Westerns released in the 1980's – most of which were actually fairly good, no doubt in large part to high-quality actually being a MUST in order for those films to actually see production and release – but by and large, the days of various new Westerns being pumped out every year had come to a close. Movie production companies had, quite simply, come to believe that the Western no longer held any place in the realms of film, particularly in the ‘modern' era, as it was their belief that the ever-growing urban/suburban areas of the nation, coupled with the steadily diminishing rural populations, could mean only one thing: the majority of people just simply could not relate to Westerns anymore. And then came Kevin Costner, who had bought the filming rights of a certain novel in 1988, though the actor had had his eye on it since as early as 1986. Costner had a rather ambitious vision for what the movie could be at that time, as the idea of an epic, lengthy Western to be released in theaters during the film genre's lowest point would seem preposterous, if not just a tad bit insane. However, Costner wouldn't be deterred, and in 1990, that film – Dances with Wolves – would indeed be released to theaters…and quickly be followed by overwhelming critical AND commercial success in a time when the Western was SUPPOSED to be dead in the water.

As is usual with films directed by Kevin Costner, Costner also stands in as the star of the picture, and, once again, his deadpan, almost stoic manner of acting seems perfectly suited for a depiction of the type of character that he's playing. In the film, Costner takes on the role of John Dunbar, a veteran of the Union Army during the Civil War, and a man that has seemingly become disillusioned with the world and life in general due to his involvement in the war and the battles and killings that he took part in…for as the film opens, Dunbar essentially attempts to commit suicide by riding his horse along the frontlines of the battle. Of course, death doesn't come to him then, and his seeming attempt at suicide leads to a Union victory at the battle; now considered to be a war hero, Dunbar is given his choice of post, which Dunbar chooses to be posted on the western frontier…basically as far from ‘civilized' men as possible. Once Dunbar makes it to his new post, he finds that the remainder of the regiment stationed there have deserted the place, and yet, Dunbar stays on, rather than heading back home, or, at least, to another nearby Army post. Soon, the local Native Americans make contact with him, attempting to intimidate the solitary white man. However, the incident only serves to inspire Dunbar to make an attempt of his own to make contact with the Sioux, and from there, the film basically relates the burgeoning relationship between Dunbar and his neighbors, with the white man being assimilated into the tribe by film's end.

With the exception of a handful of films that came before it, Dances with Wolves was in large part critically hailed as being the largest produced Western to deal with the Native Americans and their plights with supreme sympathy, including attempting to relate a somewhat accurate portrayal of the Sioux way of life during that era, as well casting all of the Indian roles with actual Native Americans, and utilizing the actual language of those people. However, due to production overruns and shooting delays, critics would mockingly label Dances with Wolves as ‘Kevin's Gate'…a not-so-subtle insinuation that Costner's hugely Epic Western would fall in line with another Epic Western, that being the infamous Heaven's Gate. Of course, those insinuations would ultimately be proven unfounded, and unlike that massive flop of a decade earlier, DwW would instantly be called a masterpiece, and go on to be the highest grossing Western of all-time, a distinction that the film still holds. Dances with Wolves would also be the first Western to win the Academy Award for Best Picture since 1931's Cimarron (which didn't make my list, for the reasoning that I feel that it's a bit overrated). What's more is that, due to its ever-lasting success as well as it's immediate impact, Dances with Wolves legacy will never be in question – it undoubtedly stands as being perhaps THE most important Western of the past three, if not FOUR, decades, as it in large part put in motion a rebirth of the Western genre in film.

14. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1960)



Much as how 1970's The Ballad of Cable Hogue stands as being the atypical Sam Peckinpah Western as directed by Peckinpah himself, so too does 1962's The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance stand as being the atypical John Ford Western as directed by John Ford. In regards to Peckinpah's The Ballad of Cable Hogue, the reasoning behind its often being referred to as atypical for a Peckinpah film is that the film lacks the bleakness, meanness, and overall ultra-violence that pervades much of Peckinpah's other Westerns; instead, The Ballad of Cable Hogue is quite lighthearted, comedic, and nearly devoid of any gunplay whatsoever – none of which were staples of Peckinpah's then, nor is terms such as ‘lighthearted', ‘comedic', or ‘devoid of any gunplay' often bandied about in regards to the legendary director's general work in this day and age, either. It is, in a word, a rather unconventional Western for one with the reputation of Sam Peckinpah. Likewise, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is also quite unconventional in respect towards its own legendary director – John Ford. John Ford had, of course, been noted as a more than capable director of films within the Western genre since the era of silent films; however, it wasn't until 1939, with the production and release of his seminal film Stagecoach, that John Ford would TRULY hit his stride as it pertained to his Westerns. With the creation of Stagecoach, Ford would essentially set the precedents for many things…but not the least of which was that of the style of films that he would create. Stagecoach would be the first film that Ford shot on location in Monument Valley, Arizona, a place of exquisite and a near mythic appearance of it landscape; in fact, Ford would be somewhat of a pioneer in regards to shooting films on locations in the ‘wild'. Stagecoach had a rather sizeable budget for its time, and following the success of that particular picture, many other of Ford's films that followed Stagecoach would also garner rather large budgets from studios, which allowed Ford to shoot outdoors at Monument Valley and in color. He was, for all intents and purposes, a director that seemingly got whatever it was that he wanted for his movies…at that time, at least.

By the time that 1962 had rolled around, Ford was more-or-less viewed as being a once great director whose career had reached its tail-end; as such, the common thought on the subject was that, quite simply, Ford was well past his prime in 1962, and simply couldn't possibly produce another classic Western that was on par with his earlier films. Thus, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance was to be given a much lower budget than that of which Ford was typically used to working with (though it was still rather hefty for the time, but still…), and as such: the film would be shot in black-and-white, as opposed to being shot in color; and the film would also be shot on the sound-stages of Paramount Studios, as opposed to on location…and most definitely NOT in Monument Valley. As such, whereas most of Ford's well-known, classic Westerns feature sweeping cinematography of beautifully lush landscapes in Technicolor, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance and its environs were almost utterly restricted to being within the confines of a township, with nary a long, flowing shot of a valley or hilltop to be found. Considering how this film was setting up to not quite be the ‘norm' that Ford was used to at the time, I've often wondered how Ford himself felt about the picture, about how it would be received, or even how he would deal with working within certain restrictions that hadn't really been all that present before 1962. However, considering the results that Ford ended up with, I feel quite certain that even IF Ford had suffered any qualms from said restrictions, they didn't seem to have bothered him all that much. Perhaps it had something to do with his two stars in the film: John Wayne, and Jimmy Stewart – two classic, bankable stars of many, MANY classic Westerns. With those odds, even I would find it hard to doubt such a picture, even with any self-confidence issues that I may have…and even regardless of the fact that the two fifty-year old men (Wayne and Stewart) were portraying two twenty-year old men.

However, needless to say that the film is exquisitely acted by not only those two legendary performers, but by nearly all involved in the picture. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is perhaps Ford's most understated Western that he was fortunate enough to craft; seeing as how the film doesn't, and quite simply CAN'T, rely on the typical Ford staples such as big action and big scenery, it is instead a much more character driven film, propelled through the fabulous acting and dialogue within the film. The main theme of the story that is related is also understated, as it is about that most classic of Western themes – the dying, or changing, of the Old West, as we see Wayne's character, Tom Doniphan the gunfighter and the once ‘law' of the West, essentially stepping aside for the new hero, the new law, in Rance Stoddard (Stewart), a lawyer, as that's the only way that the West and its people can move forward and become better. Or at least, that's how I took it as meaning. However, while the film's theme may very well stand as being ‘the end of the Old West', The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance could also signify as being the ultimate end for the Golden Age of Westerns, and not only for the reason that a new era for the genre was looming on the horizon: Ford was aging, and many would consider this to be his last great picture; Wayne, who was aging, would soon be cast in roles of aging characters, and whose career would end a little over a decade later; and Stewart was also beginning to phase into the twilight of his career. If indeed one considers The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance to be the true end of the Golden Age of Westerns, one must also readily, and happily, admit…that it was one hell of a film to go out on.

13. A Fistful of Dollars (1964)



Before he created A Fistful of Dollars, a seminal work in the realms of the Western genre (just in case you don't know that…), director Sergio Leone had solely directed only one other film in his career – an Italian 1959 historical epic titled The Last Days of Pompeii, though he went credited as being the assistant director. Indeed, before that time, Leone was mostly noted for being a screen-writer, as well as the occasional assistant director. However, The Last Days of Pompeii's original director was forced to bow out of the project due to an illness, and Leone stepped in as his last minute replacement. The film went well enough that Leone was later given his own movie to direct as he saw fit, another ‘sword-and-sandal' epic titled The Colossus of Rhodes, released in 1961, and Leone's first ‘official' film that he directed. However, the popularity of the historical epic was collapsing in Italy, and as such, Leone turned his sights elsewhere, towards the Western. You see, perhaps by stroke of luck, Leone just happened to be ahead of the curve a bit, as the Western genre was on the verge of a massive popularity breakthrough in Italy, and would ultimately be the genre that would replace the once-incredibly popular sword-and-sandal genre as being Italian cinema's biggest money-maker…and Leone's A Fistful of Dollars just happened to be one of the very first Italian made Westerns that ushered in this newfound popularity of the genre in Europe. As being at the forefront of the Spaghetti Western movement, the film was also a major trend-setter in regards to other Italian Westerns, and later, the Western genre in America (and worldwide) as a whole (as A Fistful of Dollars wasn't released in the States until 1967). It should stand as almost being a natural effect though, considering that Leone was influenced by, and perhaps well-versed in the knowledge of the styles of, both Akira Kurosawa and John Ford…both names that had a rather monumental and profound influence on Westerns, either directly or indirectly. So, perhaps, Leone was destined to be great when it came to Westerns. With his first Western offering being the greatness that is A Fistful of Dollars, it's hard to argue that fact.

In regards to A Fistful of Dollars, Kurosawa's influence and Leone's love for that legendary director's work shines out directly from the film's existence itself, as A Fistful of Dollars is a remake of Kurosawa's 1961 samurai-film Yojimbo. In the film, the Man with No Name (played by Eastwood, of course) ventures into a certain town that has been wreaked by violence, violence instigated by a feud between two warring clans that both lay claim to the town. Of course, being the ‘anti-hero' that he is, Eastwood immediately recognizes a chance to exploit the hostilities between the two clans for a ‘fistful of dollars', and, as such, begins to play the two parties against one another, much to their own ignorance. Of course, Eastwood is eventually caught in his trespasses, and is mercilessly beaten and left for dead; during his time away healing, the families have their final battle, and only one is left standing in the streets…paving the way for the Man with No Name (or the Stranger) to return to reap his vengeance. As I insinuated earlier, A Fistful of Dollars stands as being one of the most influential and historically significant within the Western genre (and even OUTSIDE of that specific category, as well), and for three main reasons: one, the film basically kicked off the Spaghetti Western for all intents and purposes, easily setting the mark and blueprint for the many other Spaghetti Westerns that would follow; two, it's style was as something that had never truly been seen before in terms of Westerns, and as such, it stood out as being a truly unique film and a trendsetter; and three, and perhaps most noteworthy in regards to non-hardcore Western fans…it gave the world of cinema Clint Eastwood. Sure, Eastwood had previously had success in the role of Rowdy Yates on the television Western Rawhide; however, following the release of A Fistful of Dollars (both in the 1964 Italian release, and in the US 1967 release) Eastwood would become a true breakout star in film, setting the course for the levels of stardom that Eastwood would enjoy over the years. Considering how great A Fistful of Dollars is, and how important it was, and remains to be, in regards to Westerns, it's hard to believe that Leone could possibly trump the fabulousness that this film truly is…and yet, he did just that – not once, but TWICE.

12. Stagecoach (1939)



In 1930, a seminal Western was made – Raoul Walsh's The Big Trail (and one that didn't make the list, for the sole reason that I don't own it, and thus it's been quite a long time since I've seen it). The film would stand as being the very first film, let alone Western, in which a young, unknown Marion Morrison, a frequent bit-player in quite a few films during the silent era, would be given his first starring role and chance to shine. Of course, Walsh didn't really see how a man with a name such as ‘Marion Morrison' could be all THAT bankable of a star with a handle such as that, and so the director chose to rename the man, finally deciding on one, certain name – John Wayne (though, interestingly enough, Wayne's only previous screen-credit before The Big Trail was in a film titled Words and Music…and he was credited as ‘Duke Morrison'). Now, The Big Trail would undoubtedly stand as being, at that particular time, the most ambitious film ever crafted, as it was the very first film of the early ‘talkies' of movie history to have a massive budget and be shot entirely outdoors and on location…and it was also one of the very first films in history to be shot in widescreen. Unfortunately, such efforts were essentially wasted, as only a handful of theaters in the nation were equipped with the facilities in which to actually show a widescreen film. As such, The Big Trail would turn out to be a flop of gargantuan proportions of that day and age, and, unfortunately, most of the blame for the movie's failure would fall at the feet of it's young, untested star. As a result, John Wayne would spend nearly the entire decade of the 1930's in B-movie Westerns (around eighty of them, according to Wayne), flying completely and utterly under the radar in regards to the mainstream movie-going public. Then…John Ford came along.

Ford himself was no stranger to Westerns; he had, after all, directed numerous Westerns during the silent era. However, he had yet to direct a Western since the advent of the talking picture, though as the ‘30's came to a close that was all about to change. In the late-30's, Ford would buy the rights to a story titled ‘The Stage to Lordsburg', written by a man named Ernest Haycox. Once the script was completed (including being far more voluminous than the rather short and simple plot related in the short story), Ford shopped the project around to various studios…all of which would ultimately reject the film for one, simple reason: Ford insisted on actor John Wayne starring in the film as the main male lead, the Ringo Kid, as the studios hadn't forgotten the epic failure that was The Big Trail, nor the man who was forced to shoulder the blame of that failure (Wayne). The absolute rejection of the backing of major studios forced Ford to take the film to independent producer, Walter Wagner…who also noted his own trepidations in producing another A-list Western starring the ‘failure' that was John Wayne, instead saying that if Ford replaced Wayne with Gary Cooper, then Wagner would fund Stagecoach; Ford, however, refused, and remained steadfast in his decision to cast Wayne as the star. In the end, the two would compromise: Wagner would shoulder up only half of the budget that Ford requested, and Wayne would remain on the film…though he would be given second billing to starlet Claire Trevor.

Ultimately, Stagecoach would go on to be one of, if not THE, most influential Westerns of all-time, and in more ways than one. Naturally, the film was a rather large success in theaters, and thus reignited interest in the Western, as popular attention towards the genre in regards to film was beginning to waver. The film also set the precedents and blueprints for the basics that Westerns would follow, on through the Golden Age of the genre (the 1940's to the 1950's) and on up to the threshold of the Revisionist Period. The film would also set the standard for the future course of John Fords' films, particularly his Westerns; Stagecoach would be the first film that the director would shoot in the famous Monument Valley, and from this point on through to the ‘60's, Ford would typically be entrusted with Westerns with fairly large budgets and major stars. In short, after Stagecoach, Ford would become THE preeminent director of Westerns. Finally, the film also did one greater thing in regards to film history – it was the first film to truly give us John Wayne. Without the creation of Stagecoach, Wayne would have undoubtedly been squandered in low-budget films, without ever having been given the chance to prove himself as a leading man again, which would have robbed us all of one of THE greatest and most iconic leading men of all-time. In terms of importance, Stagecoach is almost unarguably the most important Western ever made, as it would set the course for the majority of Westerns that have been made since.

Okay, that's it for this week! One more to go!