Ten Deep 6.18.09: 50 Great Westerns - #11-#1!

Posted by Lucas Huddleston on 06.18.2009

In his final column, 411's Lucas Huddleston reaches the end of his Great Westerns undertaking. Was it all worth the exorbitant amount of reading? Well...weren't they all?

Hello, and welcome to Ten Deep: Week 35! As I'm sure you all know, this is the final edition of Ten Deep with me as the author (it will continue on with a new author, I think), and my last bit of work that will appear on 411mania for the foreseeable future. What can I say? I had a blast doing this, and rest assured, this experience has truly fueled my writing spirit to a height that it hasn't seen in a few years, as the doldrums of everyday life and the squishing of hope nearly smothered such spirit. Hopefully, one day you'll be able to read an actual book that's written by me…and I stress HOPEFULLY. Now, as I've stated numerous times over the past few weeks, this list was never intended to be a ‘Greatest of…' list'…just a list that showcased fifty great Westerns, but not necessarily THE greatest. To push across that point, I even considered compiling the list in alphabetical order, just so that I could avoid people crapping on me for missing this or missing that; ultimately, I decided to do a ‘countdown' just so I could present these Top Ten – er, Top Eleven, as these films do indeed stand as being the all-time best-of-the-best, in my opinion. All are flawless, and all are well worth purchasing BEFORE a rental. Considering that I can find all eleven of these movies at my local Wal-Mart or Target between the prices of five and thirteen dollars, you can't get quality any cheaper than that.

Now, I said from the very beginning that I'd be missing quite a few…but I'll take the time here to briefly acknowledge a few movies that some of the NICER commenters have brought up that didn't make the list. The Proposition, Centennial, and El Topo…didn't make the list because I haven't seen them. In the case of El Topo, I specifically haven't seen it all the way through due to the fact that, long ago, my grandfather turned it off half-way through and demanded my mother exchange it for another used tape. The Proposition has been on my ‘buy on sight' radar since I read a review that compared it to Cormac MacCarthy's ‘Blood Meridian', a great novel and seminal work in Western fiction. Centennial I've heard about, but have never seen either on television, or to purchase on home video. Of course, I have seen a lot of other great Westerns that didn't make the list, and all I can say to that is this – I can't please everybody. At the very least, I have mentioned more than a few of these other greats that didn't make the list numerous times (such as The Ballad of Cable Hogue), in hopes that if I can persuade a non-Western fan to give Westerns a shot, they'll at least have had them referenced. And yes, I've even mentioned both McLintock! and North to Alaska, as well, giving them both high marks. Anyway, let's do it to it.

50 GREAT WESTERNS: #11-#1!

11. Red River (1948)



"I didn't know the big son of a bitch could act!" While I've never personally read anything that described how John Wayne emotionally dealt with either the praises or the criticisms that were heaped upon him during his career, I'd like to think that that particular bit of praise about the Duke's performance in Howard Hawks' classic 1948 Western Red River was probably the most meaningful bit of praise that Wayne himself ever received. You see, that bit of praise came from none other than legendary director John Ford, and the man that more-or-less salvaged Wayne's career in his steadfast refusal to drop Wayne from the starring role of the film Stagecoach (which we covered last week, and was noted as being one of the most important Westerns ever created). Of course, ‘why' such praise from Ford, the man who essentially gave Wayne the platform on which to spread his wings, would resonate with Wayne so greatly may not cross some people's mind; I'm sure that they'd just assume that the relationship between the two were fantastic, and that Ford was just simply trying to be funny with that quote. However, what some may not know is that Ford was known for being ruthless, somewhat mean, and abrasive towards his actors…most notably to Wayne himself. For example, during the two men's creation of the film The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Ford was known to ridicule Wayne for Wayne's not taking part in the call to arms during World War II, instead staying behind in the States to further his career while good men like Jimmy Stewart (Wayne's co-star in Liberty Valance and WWII fighter pilot and decorated hero) did what was truly right. Of course, during every film that the two made together, Ford was known to overly criticize – even bully – Wayne as both an actor and a person, typically referring to him as a ‘big idiot' and belittling the actor's talents. As such, one can't help but think that, after turning in his first truly great performance as cattleman Thomas Dunson in Red River and receiving even the SLIGHTEST bit of praise from Ford, Wayne would have swelled up with pride at those words.

Red River basically follows the life and history of Dunson, Wayne's character, from the time that he leaves a wagon train to set out on his own towards Texas, in order to acquire some land for himself in which to populate with cattle. After he leaves, the wagon train is attacked by Indians, and after the night sees Dunson and his partner Groot fend off the Indians when they come for them, a young boy named Matt (later to be played by Montgomery Clift after the first twenty or so minutes) stumbles into Dunson's camp, in shock from the attack. The two men take the boy with them, and after gunning down an enforcer for a Mexican land-baron that tells Dunson that his boss owns the land, Dunson tells the other Mexican rider to ride back and tell his boss that now Dunson owns the land. From there and the branding of his initial two cattle, the film skips ahead quite a few years later, when Dunson is assembling a large array of cattle (including essentially stealing those heads of livestock from other cattle-men in the area that have wandered onto Dunson's land) and a heap of cowboys, in order to drive the herd to Sedalia, Missouri (I've been there!) to sell at market for a fortune. However, the trek from Texas to Missouri is well-known to be a treacherous one, and soon after leaving and the hardships begin to set in, word begins to spread that the town of Abilene, Kansas, has a railroad as well, and the trip to Abilene is a far easier one than the drive to Missouri. However, Dunson, as stubborn as he is and suffering from lack of sleep due to worry about deserters and such, refuses to head the herd towards Abilene, despite the fact that the results would be the same with fewer dangers in the path…refuses, that is, until his men, led by his surrogate son Matt, turn against him and take the herd from him. Now, I should note that, like all the movies in this Top Eleven, every member of the cast does a great job; there's not a lax performance in the bunch. However, Red River IS noted as being a famous Wayne vehicle for a reason – Wayne's acting is great, as he gives a fantastically subtle performance, which is a treat from a man that is most noteworthy for being larger-than-life. At the beginning of the film, Dunson begins with the usual bravado of a typical Wayne character; however, as the film goes along, Dunson begins to give in to his arrogance and stubbornness, as well as more than his fair share of paranoia as his men begin to question him and some even desert the drive. In truth, while the film holds no true villain, Wayne's (mostly) unsympathetic character stands as being as close to a villain as the movie has. Coupled with the usual staples for a great Hawks Western, including fantastic scenery and lush shots of sweeping countryside, Red River has easily stood the test of time over the years, being the oldest of the films to be found near (or even at) the top of this, and many other, lists.

10. Shane (1953)



Long before I actually had a chance to watch 1953's Shane, I had the rather unfortunate displeasure of having the climax of the film ruined for me. You see, when I was a child, I was the proud owner of what I only describe as a ‘clip tape' of Westerns, as it held clips of numerous Westerns on it. Now, I can't remember all the films that were shown on the tape, nor even what the title of the VHS was. I can only remember three things about the tape: my mom bought it at Wal-Mart for me; the tape was of the supremely cheap kind that didn't last more than a decade before the VCR was a little too ‘rough' on the thing whilst rewinding, causing the tape to break; and, of course, the final showdown between Shane (Alan Ladd) and Jack Wilson (Jack Palance). The final gunfight between the two men stood out in my mind like very scenes from films ever had, before or since – the way the two men stared each other down, the look of stern determination etched across Shane's face while Wilson's held a look of supreme confidence and arrogance…before the two pulled their weapons, and Wilson lay in a heap on the floor. I must have rewound and watched that short, SHORT clip a thousand times over in my youth, studying with great interest the way the two men stood, the way they stared at one another, their body language in regards to the other. It was a scene that, in short, I will never forget, and had the movie itself turned out to be horrible, unwatchable garbage, I would still hold strong feelings toward that famous gunfight. Of course, lucky for me that Shane is easily one of the greatest Westerns ever created…though I still wish that the film's climax hadn't been ruined for me years before I had the chance to watch the film proper, as it almost ruined the perfect build up in tension that permeated the film up until that fateful moment.

The plot of Shane is the stuff of Western legend, as a mysterious man comes to town and enters into the life of a struggling family, as he becomes a farmhand for said family. Of course, there's a mean-spirited land-baron in the area that has one drive, and one drive only – he wants everyone that ISN'T him off the land and out of the area, so that he can claim it all for himself. Of course, there's more to the stranger, named Shane, than would first appear; he's a wandering gunfighter. Ryker, the land-baron, notes that fact, and as such brings in his own hired gun in the form of Wilson, who wastes little time in his attempts to intimidate and strong-arm the locals. Wilson inevitably murders another local man, and the patriarch of the family that houses Shane vows justice, and sets off to meet Wilson himself; however, Shane knows that HE'S the only man in the area who can truly defeat Wilson, and so he knocks his friend unconscious and sets out to confront Wilson. Shane had its fair share of haters back in the day that it was made, same as it does now, and I can't help but think that the fact that the film holds little to no action until the climax has something to do with that. Of course, if those people would look past the illusion of inactivity that seems to dwell within the film, they'd find one of the finest structured movies ever crafted. Shane is all about the build, as from early on in the film, you know that at some point Shane will simply HAVE to gird himself for battle and strap on his pistols one last time…even though he may seem reluctant to do so, as the family's young boy and his infatuation with Shane being a gunslinger unnerves the man to no end. The other truly great thing about the movie is Jack Palance himself, as the man seemed to have been born to play the truly evil Wilson, and is…well, he's just cool to watch in Shane. While Shane may be a bit non-traditional in regards to other Westerns of the Golden Age of the genre due to its lack of action and restricted landscapes, the film is also exemplary of the time in one respect – it's pretty much the ultimate in Good vs. Evil, as Shane is a good man and hero and never ventures beyond such realms; Wilson and Ryker, on the other hand, are pure villains. Whenever I read some scathing remark on the internet about how terrible Shane is, I can never truly understand where they're coming from. All I know is that I pity them for not being able to enjoy a true masterpiece in a genre that's filled with them.

9. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)



Perhaps what's most unfortunate about my short history with this great film (and the most recently crafted to film to appear this high on the list) is that, when it was first released late-in '07, I had no idea of its existence. For the life of me, I can't even remember seeing a single television advertisement for the picture, and I know for a fact that the movie didn't see release in any theaters in my immediate area…which is a bit strange in my mind, as one would think that a film detailing the last days of one of the most famous Missourians to have ever lived would find a release in an area where the man was known to have tromped a time or two during his lifetime. In fact, the very first time that I myself became aware of the film's existence at all came during the 2008 Academy Awards, during the presentation for the Oscar for Best Cinematography; the EXTREMELY short clip that was shown as the nomination was announced was that of a scene that is placed near the beginning of the film, as a train tears through the night, appearing as though it's a great, mythical beast, smoke and hell-fire pouring out of its mouth, with its light gently washing against the myriad of trees that flanked the vehicle on either side, bringing attention to a line of shapes with white masks over their faces, intently focused on the beast as it's forced to a halt. Now, the movie, and in particular the Director of Photography Roger Deakins, didn't win the award (though it should have, in my opinion), but the damage had been done – and all it took was that one, short clip. Once seeing that image, it would be burned into the forefront of my mind, and no sooner did I witness that sight did I jump on the Internet in order to learn as much about it as I could. When I learned that Missouri-boy Brad Pitt held the starring role of the notorious outlaw, it seemed even MORE preposterous that I had never heard of the thing, nor even seen any kind of preview for it air across my television screen. Needless to say, as soon as I was able, I went out and bought the DVD without having even seen a preview for the movie proper…and I've never regretted it. I've watched it four times since then, and even though that number of viewings is far less than the amount of times that I've many of the others that I've had listed thus far, I CAN say one thing that I can't necessarily say about the most of the others – every time I watch the film again, the better it gets. It's a pity that the film wasn't really pushed all that much by the studio, rather than what I presumed happened…it was ignored. Shame on them.

The plot of the film itself essentially relates to the audience the final few months of Jesse James' life, starting with the very first time that the famous outlaw crossed paths with the man that would go on to kill him – Bob Ford, as Ford attempts to gain trust and entry into the infamous James Gang. However, unlike 1939's Jesse James which relied mostly on the myth and legend of the outlaw in relating it's contents to a rip-roaring adventure, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford buries itself deep in historical accuracy, going to great lengths to relate what actually happened as closely as possible. As such, James himself isn't so much a Robin Hood type here, or really a cold-blooded villain; he's a man, a human being that lives quite well on reputation (such as when he rides up on a house with five men in it, and those men are scared witless around James, even though they clearly outnumber him). However, his lifestyle has begun to take its toll on him, mostly mentally and emotionally, as James is beginning to give in to extreme paranoia and distrust, even of his closest allies. Knowing that, it should go without my saying that Pitt turns in a fantastic performance, much like everyone else in the film such as Sam Rockwell, Paul Schneider, Jeremy Renner, Garret Dillahunt, and Sam Shepard. However, the clear standout to me in this film is Casey Affleck in the role of Robert Ford. It would be so easy to just merely be content with portraying Ford as a sniveling, pathetic human being, one that a person can't help but totally and completely loathe for even breathing. However, Affleck gives a great, layered performance…a kind of performance that I've yet to even see his more famous brother give. Affleck's Ford is both sympathetic and unsympathetic, as at one point you feel sorry for the young Ford as the others bully him and make fun of his hero worship of James; by the next minute, though, you'll hate him for his cocksure attitude and his seemingly inflated sense of self-importance, only to feel sorry for him again by the end of film as we see how his life turns out. There's so much I can say about this film, that it's upsetting that I don't have much room to do so, from the great acting and the delivering of the dialogue in a realistic manner, to an exploration of the relationship between James and Ford, and the theme of hero worship turned sour. While the film is only a little over a year-and-a-half old since its initial theatrical release, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford deserves its place here at the top. It's just unfortunate that the film wasn't allowed to be more than it could upon its theatrical release…and that neither Deakins nor Affleck won the Oscars for Cinematography and Supporting Actor, as they deserved them for this masterpiece.

8. The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976)



In order to understand my long association with the 1976 Clint Eastwood-directed classic The Outlaw Josey Wales, it's most especially important to note that the film is not only my father's favorite Western of all-time without a shadow of a doubt…but it could also very well rate as being his actual favorite film EVER, regardless of things like genre. I've mentioned it several times of the course of the past thirty-five weeks, but allow me reiterate – whenever my father happens upon a movie that he truly, DEARLY loves and enjoys, he will undoubtedly subject all those around him to that film time after time…after time again. He's been known to watch a film seemingly upwards of a dozen times within a week, sometimes even watching the thing three times in a row, back-to-back-to-back; for example, I know for a fact that he's recently been catching Wall-E on Starz everyday that it's shown…only then to watch it again on Starz West (the West Coast airing, which typically airs within an hour or so after the central airing ends). It was much the same in regards to The Outlaw Josey Wales, during the 1980's when we had the tape dubbed on a recordable VHS cassette, then again in the early-90's when my mother procured for him an official VHS release of the film…then AGAIN in the earlier part of THIS decade when I bought the film for him on DVD. What's more is that anytime the film is shown on television, whether it be on one of the primary networks or on AMC or Starz, my dad will undoubtedly watch it if he finds it. However, whereas I myself was typically found to come to loathe the films that he would force us to watch again and again (my father has long been the ‘King of the Remote Control' in my parents' house…), such was not the case in regards to The Outlaw Josey Wales. Instead, it seemed as though every time I watched it with him, I would end up liking the movie even MORE than I did when last I saw it – the true mark of a classic movie, in my opinion.

The Outlaw Josey Wales follows the story of the titular character, a man named Josey Wales, played by Eastwood himself. At the film's outset, Wales is a peaceful man, a farmer in Missouri; however, the path that his life would take would be forever changed by the coming of the Civil War…though not because he initially had a part to play in that war. No, with the coming of the war come the soldiers that would fight, including sides that had to be chosen…and when a group of pro-Union Kansas Jayhawkers happen upon his land, the men see to it that they rape and brutally murder Josey's wife and family. Afterwards, Wales enlists in the Confederate Army, serving under ‘Bloody' Bill Anderson. When the end of the war comes, many of Josey's compatriots surrender to Union forces, except for Josey, who keeps his grudge to the Union close to his heart; as such, Wales witnesses the Union soldiers (led by the same man that led his men to Josey's land and family) betray and murder the surrendering Confederates. Josey rides to their aid, gunning down several of the Union Redlegs in the process; as such, Josey soon finds that he's a wanted man with a bounty of five thousand dollars on his head. Josey Wales goes on the run soon after that, evading and dealing with if need be soldiers, lawmen, and bounty hunters as he heads towards Texas. Along the way, Josey compiles a rag-tag group of followers, and by film's end, he realizes that he's assembled a likeness of something that was once of great importance to him – a family. In most respects, 1976's The Outlaw Josey Wales stands as being not only the last true substantial box-office Western hit until 1990's Dances with Wolves, but the movie also stands as being the peak of the Revisionist Western movement. Several aspects of the film stand in stark contrast to what Westerns made in the Golden Age would have been endowed with: in The Outlaw Josey Wales, the Union Army during the Civil War is given a rather harsh treatment, rather than being treated as though they're the valiant heroes of the war, as they typically were depicted as being during most other Westerns; what few Native Americans that there are in the film are depicted as being as people, not as wholly sympathetic, or unsympathetic (whatever the case may be), caricatures; and the common Western theme of the ‘times passing the old gunfighter by' is completely turned around. In The Outlaw Josey Wales, Wales himself finds himself in the midst of a land that finds its ways changing – the whole world is changing – and yet, unlike what would happen in most other films that ventured into such thematic territory, Wales doesn't keep going on full-speed ahead, to meet his end due to his refusal to change with the times; in fact, Josey DOES change by film's end, particularly in the poetic finish to the film where Josey refrains from further violence. The hard, brutal violence of the war has subsided, and Wales does so accordingly as well, particularly wishing to leave it all behind him once he establishes his ‘new' family. Of course, in the film's unforgettable sequence right before the film's ending where Josey exacts his revenge at last would seem to belie the thought that Josey had ‘changed', as his vengeance is as brutal and hard as any would expect. That particular theme of a man not being able to truly change would be further explored in a later, even GREATER Eastwood film…and a film that, in many ways, I've always felt to be a spiritual successor to the greatness of this movie.

7. The Wild Bunch (1969)



In 1962, director Sam Peckinpah would earn the respect of not only his peers, but also that of critics, actors, audiences, and studios with the completion of his classic film, Ride the High Country. As a result of the good-will and high regard that the film garnered, Peckinpah found himself in something that he'd yet to truly experience in the world of film – he found himself demand. As such, it wasn't too much longer after that that Sam Peckinpah set to work on his next movie, 1965's Major Dundee starring Charlton Heston, who had sought the part in Peckinpah's movie based solely on his work in Ride the High Country. Major Dundee, however, would be plagued by severe production difficulties – difficulties that would somewhat foreshadow the latter half of Peckinpah's career – as the director found himself engorged in battles with producers and verbally abusing and firing of many of his crew-members for trivial reasons, all the while succumbing to his own demons, specifically his drinking (it's been reported that Peckinpah was often drunk on set of the film). Later on in that same year of 1965, Peckinpah would be handed the reins to a film titled The Cincinnati Kid – only to have those reins ripped from his hands, as he was shortly thereafter fired from the project due to the ‘usual suspects' in regards to Peckinpah and his career…at which point the once promising up-and-coming actor would become a veritable outcast in the world of professional filmmaking. However, things would soon turn back around for Sam, as he would direct a made-for-television film titled Noon Wine, which would garner instant acclaim and remind those that had abandoned him just why Peckinpah was much-heralded in the first place. As such, Peckinpah would get one more chance to showcase just what he could do when given the opportunity, and that chance would end up being 1969's The Wild Bunch…and it was a chance that Peckinpah would make the most of.

The plot of The Wild Bunch follows a gang of aging outlaws, that have seen their time come and go with the ‘progression' of the Old West into something a bit more civilized. After a botched and disastrous attempt at robbing a train, the bandits, led by Pike Bishop (William Holden), head towards Mexico in order to keep their freedom, as a persistent lawman doggedly trails them. However, the group runs afoul of a Mexican general when one of the gang's own, a man named Angel, kills the general's woman (she was Angel's old flame), and the group soon find themselves in the employ of the man as his own personal mercenaries, ordered by him to steal a shipment of arms from a US Army train. The group wind up successful in their attempt, and devise a plan to get the guns back to the Mexican general so as not to risk the implication of betrayal…though when they get there, they find that betrayal is all around them. Like several of Peckinpah's Westerns, the two main themes running here are that of betrayal and death, utilizing the backdrop of the death of the Old West and its lifestyles as symbolic of such a theme. The group themselves are on the run from their own extinction, though signs of the passing of them and their way of life are all about them – it's in the railroads, in the automobile that the General drives, in the lawman's tireless pursuit of the gang. As such, the film more-or-less chronicles the gang through their denial in this to their acceptance with the movie's final act. But, perhaps what's most important about The Wild Bunch is that it essentially would set the tone and reputation that the name ‘Sam Peckinpah' would be known for: its themes of death, its bleakness, and its violence. The film was controversial in its day due to its graphic scenes of said violence, but Peckinpah never intended the violence to be glorified – hence, the reasoning why it's controversial…it's unapologetic in its portrayal. Sam Peckinpah was a man that had a rather profound, if subtle, affect on the film industry, an affect that resonates more strongly today than ever before through the likes of Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez. As such, any who enjoy the works of those two men owe it to themselves to check out The Wild Bunch, which is the quintessential Peckinpah movie, and perhaps one of the most influential films ever made.

6. High Noon (1952)



Most of the films that are to be found here in my Top Eleven were released to both critical and commercial success, both accolades and profit; even The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, while silently and quickly pushed through theaters, was hailed as being great by those critics that were able to see the film. Such recognition, however, escaped High Noon' grasp, when the film was first released, with said recognition not finding its way to the film until much later. It's quite the upsetting aspect, to be sure, as I, and many others, believe High Noon to be a masterpiece…it's just unfortunate that most people around in 1952 refused to see the film as such (it WAS nominated for Best Picture, but lost, which is a shame). Audiences were somewhat repelled by the film, as it was released during the Golden Age of the Western; you see, movie-goers and Western-lovers of the time had grown on Westerns that weaved tales of high adventure, with mythically heroic protagonists, bad guys in black hats, and sweeping cinematography of amazing landscapes shot on location. High Noon held none of these things. Marshal Will Kane (as played by Gary Cooper), while heroic, was far more human than most other Westerns of the day-and-age depicted lawmen of the Old West to be, as Kane faces what appears to be certain death with no escape and it actually (*gasp!*) unnerves the man; audiences could hardly respect such a depiction, most notably (as I've mentioned before) venerable director of Westerns Howard Hawks and Western icon-above-all-others John Wayne. The bad guys in High Noon were undoubtedly not-nice people…but neither were the townsfolk in the movie, as every single one of them, from the local ‘toughs' to the morally ‘upstanding' church goers would rather Kane either leave all together or sacrifice himself to protect their own interests (whether they be just wanting to be left alone or money); in most Westerns of that particular time, the townsfolk depicted in Westerns would rarely abandon the hero, especially in regards to looking out for their own interests. High Noon held no breathtaking shots of the expansive countryside; instead, the film took place entirely within the restrictive confines of a small town, with scenes rarely embarking past the city limits. High Noon also held very little by way of action, as the other than the film's climax and a brief fistfight, there are no other action sequences to be found. High Noon was, for all intents and purposes, a film that went against the grain when it came to what a popular and ‘good' Western should contain…and perhaps in more ways than meets the eye.

As I've already implied, the plot of the movie is a somewhat simple one, as Kane sits in town and awaits the arrival of an infamous criminal and his gang…an infamous criminal that Kane helped to put away years before, which is Kane's main claim to fame within the town. As the film opens, the gang itself sits patiently at the nearby train station, silently awaiting their leader to arrive on the inbound train, which is due within roughly an hour-and-a-half; meanwhile, within the town, Kane uses that ninety-minutes to go about the town in effort to enlist a group of his own men to aid him in repelling the outlaws when they will inevitably ride into to town looking for blood. However, every man he comes across and asks for help denies him, with Kane becoming more and more anxious and disheveled as the clock ticks down…until only Kane remains to stand alone against the four bandits coming to take his life. The film itself harbors some great performances, particularly from Cooper, as it IS his show and he and his descent into hopelessness stands as being almost the sole focus of the movie. The movie itself also utilizes a mechanic that was rarely seen in those days, as High Noon runs in real time, similar to the television show 24. It's a psychological Western, one that holds several complex characters and performances that were nearly atypical for Westerns of the more mainstream ilk, and one with a now iconic and exciting climax…and one that deserved a lot more than it got back in its time. Instead, High Noon, created during the height of McCarthyism, was believed to be subversive in its true meaning – that of subtly pushing socialism, which led John Wayne to stating that High Noon was ‘the most un-American movie ever made'. Of course, that's pure bull, in today's world, though the film's screenwriter did admit to film being about McCarthyism and the blacklisting plague that was seemingly rampant in Hollywood during the time. Wayne and his supporters, however, would win the battle, as Wayne would play a rather pivotal part in blacklisting and essentially ruining the career of the screenwriter, an act which Wayne would wear with pride all his life; High Noon, however, would win the war, as it considered by many to be one of, if not the, greatest Western ever made by many people. In fact, with it's tale of one truly heroic man standing up in the face of adversity rather than turning tail and running away, one could say that High Noon is easily, and unquestionably, one of the very few quintessential Westerns ever created.

5. Unforgiven (1992)



By the time Unforgiven was released in 1992, I was just beginning to delve into Westerns seriously for the very first time in my life, as my grandfather had come to live with us around the time that the film was released in theaters. Of course, we didn't go and see Unforgiven in theaters when it came to our local, five-screen cinema; our family didn't have the cash to go flippantly spending it at the theaters, when it was much more cost effective to just merely wait until the movie was released on VHS, when a used copy could be bought from the local ‘mom-and-pop's' video-rental store for the cost of one ticket (usually). My grandfather, however, took that time to make sure that I was well-versed in the way of Clint Eastwood, which is where I first came across films such as ‘The Dollars Trilogy', High Plains Drifter, Joe Kidd, and Pale Rider for the first time, as I had already long been subjected to The Outlaw Josey Wales (remember?). However, when I finally came around to having the opportunity to experience Unforgiven, I was very well acquainted with that 1976 classic, The Outlaw Josey Wales. As such, I couldn't help but try and compare the two to one another, seeing as how both were directed by AND starred Clint Eastwood. Upon doing so, it occurred to me that perhaps Unforgiven, whether it was realized by Eastwood or not, was the spiritual successor to that other seminal Eastwood classic, as both films featured similar main characters with similar backgrounds: both Wales and Unforgiven's William Munny hail from Missouri, with both being brutal outlaws in their younger days. Unforgiven also seemed to be an extension of the main theme of that previous film, for whereas Josey Wales dealt with a man that was able to successfully leave his murderous past behind, Unforgiven would deal with the theme of a man not truly being able to shirk what it was that he was molded into being, whatever such events were that created the man. At first, I admit that since I was holding and comparing Unforgiven to one of my favorites in the Western genre, I was hardly able to give the film a straight chance in its own right. Of course, by the time I had finished Unforgiven, I had stopped thinking about Josey Wales all together. Unforgiven was just that damn good, and if a film is good enough to make one forget about ANOTHER classic that one holds dear, surely that speaks of the quality of film that Unforgiven is.

Unforgiven tells the tale of one William Munny (Eastwood), a man who lives alone with his two children after the death of his beloved wife. Munny, however, is also a formerly notorious outlaw, infamous for killing not only men, armed or unarmed, but also women and children; he was, essentially, Satan himself in his younger days, particularly when he was drinking (which seems as though it was all the time). Soon, a young man rides up, bearing news of a deal that's almost too good for Munny to refuse, seeing as how his family has fallen on hard times – the young man is looking for partner in order to hunt down and kill two cowboys that cut up a prostitute, all in order to collect the reward of one-thousand dollars. Munny agrees, taking his friend Ned (Morgan Freeman) with them. However, in the town of Big Whiskey (the town where the two cowboys cut up the whore), Sheriff Little Bill lies in wait for anybody who may come calling for that reward…and he's won't be gentle about enforcing the law in his hometown. One of the great things about Unforgiven is the fact that there really is no ‘good' or ‘bad', ‘right' or ‘wrong' depicted within; there's no heroes, no villains, only people. William Munny doesn't seem like a bad guy throughout the film, and he does show a bit of remorse in his past; however, at the same time, the man is out to hunt down and kill two men, so one has to really wonder just how much guilt he truly holds over his past to begin with. In fact, one could argue that Munny is MEANT to be a killer, and the film is about doing what he's meant to do, however reluctant he may be at the beginning of the movie. By that same token, Little Bill is obviously the film's antagonist, and while he's not what you'd call a nice guy by any stretch of the imagination (even though he IS the law…), he's not exactly the villain, either. Rather, Little Bill is a man that has a job to do, to uphold the law, and if he has to kill another human being in order to ensure that the law is adhered to, so be it. Nothing here is in black-and-white; it's all in shades of grey, complex and thoughtful. While Dances with Wolves was great and may have beaten Unforgiven to the proverbial well of renewing interest in a supposedly ‘dead' genre of film, it's clear which of the two is superior. Unforgiven, in my honest opinion, may very well go down as being one of the last great Westerns that could be made in our lifetimes.

4. Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)



I will readily admit that when I first watched Sergio Leone's Once Upon a Time in the West when I was a young man, I didn't give it much thought, though I've obviously since had a massive change of heart once I revisited the film in my twenties. Now, I've always told everyone that I've ever tried to push the film on since that the opening credits sequence will, basically, tell you everything you need to know about the film – it's a very, VERY slow-moving picture, to say the least. Of course, when I was a kid watching the movie with my grandpa, I couldn't help but feel just a tad bit…well, BORED by the movie, and it didn't take too much longer after said opening credits for my mind to begin to wander, and then my body, as I soon found myself in my room playing videogames. So what happens during those opening credits, you ask, that would announce the tone of the film to all those that would watch? Well, the film opens on three men who ride up to a train station, harass the station manager, and then sit around and wait for the train to come by, obviously laying in wait for a certain somebody that's riding the train…though whether or not their task is benevolent or not is unknown. Then for somewhere around ten-to-fifteen minutes, as the credits roll by, we get to see the three men just…well, basically just sit around and wait, with no dialogue and no musical accompaniment, merely the blowing of the wind, the buzzing of flies, the slow drip of leaking water, or the creaking of the floorboards beneath the men's feet. As such, I can't really imagine that, if the film were to be made in today's world, Once Upon a Time in the West would make even a blip on the radar of mainstream movies; in fact, I'd even say that the movie probably won't even appeal all that much to non-Western fans, or those that much prefer action over build. Yet, once you get a taste for Once Upon a Time in the West, you'll find that it'll take hold of your attention like few others, and you'll see that OUaTitW separates itself from the vast majority of other Westerns as a true work of art…perhaps even standing as Leone's greatest masterwork.

Much as how Leone's next and ultimately last Western didn't happen (1971's A Fistful of Dynamite), Once Upon a Time in the West also was close to not happening, and much for the same reason as the other – Leone was essentially tired of making Westerns. However, the great success of Leone's previous Western, 1966's The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, American film studios naturally sought Leone to create another Western classic; however, Leone continuously turned them all down, as he wished to start work on his Prohibition gangster film Once Upon a Time in America (which wouldn't be released until 1984, and be Leone's final film). Yet, when Paramount offered Leone a much more sizable budget than most PLUS the services of actor Henry Fonda (who happened to be one of Leone's favorite actors that he desperately wanted to work with), Leone just simply couldn't refuse. And once he got Fonda, Leone would cast the legendary actor against type, and quite successfully – perhaps the greatest instance of any such thing occurring in any film made before or since 1968; whereas Fonda had typically been cast as the hero in a majority of his films that encompassed the man's career, here, Fonda was cast as one of the most brutally heartless, cold-blooded villains in the history of film. However, while Once Upon a Time in the West boasts an utterly fantastic villain as well as a great and mysterious hero (Charles Bronson as Harmonica), two men that are on a collision course to a fateful battle, there's not exactly an abundance of action that line the path to the final showdown; what's more is that what action there is plays much like the opening sequence – slow to build, taking several minutes of stare-downs or simply standing or sitting, followed by a battle that lasts perhaps all of ten seconds or so. In fact, in contrast to the remainder of Leone's work, it's for that distinctive reason that OUaTitW stands out against work such as ‘The Dollars Trilogy'; whereas those films were up-tempo and quirky, Once Upon a Time in the West was slow, preferring to build tension through the moments BEFORE a gun battle than during the actual battle itself…which, I admit much myself in my younger days, may not be everyone's taste. In the end, despite my saying that the movie stands as being Leone's artful masterpiece, I couldn't place the film any higher than Number Four, and even below one other Leone Western, all for the reason that Once Upon a Time in the West really may not be the most accessible movie to others who's patience may not be as long as others. Regardless, while it may not be as accessible as the following film, I still stand by the fact that I believe Once Upon a Time in the West is Leone's REAL masterpiece.

3. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (1966)



As I just said, I believe that Once Upon a Time in the West is Leone's masterpiece…but, again, that doesn't mean that it's for everybody, or that I would recommend it to just anybody, either. By that same token, that doesn't necessarily mean that I believe that Once Upon a Time in the West is by any means SUPERIOR to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly; in fact, I'd put the two films about on par with one another in terms of quality. However, the fantastic quality that the two Leone classics share is just about the only thing that the two movies have in common, to be honest…both are vastly different experiences in both their style and their structure. As mentioned before, Once Upon a Time in the West is a MUCH slower-paced film, deliberately so, intent to focus on and explore the tension that the characters (and, thus, the audience) experiences in the moments BEFORE an oncoming battle or gun-fight ensues. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, however, while a long film in its own right and thus COULD be construed by some as having a slow-pace (I'd object to that, however), the film is much more at home with those who like the quick, exciting action sequences that Once Upon a Time in the West lacks. Of course, without the success and adoration that The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly received in its day from audiences, Leone most likely would have NEVER been allowed to make a masterpiece in the vein of Once Upon a Time in the West; however, while The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly was well-received commercially, that wasn't necessarily the case critically, as many critics gave the film much lower marks than it deserved, and for one reason only – it was a Spaghetti Western, which meant it was supposed to be cheap, cheesy, and, overall, completely harmless. In fact, Roger Ebert once mused that, in regards to his original review of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, he had "described a four-star movie but only gave it three stars, perhaps because it was a 'Spaghetti Western' and so could not be art". Of course, nowadays the film is recognized as being the classic that it is, and, much as The Wild Bunch can be considered to be the ‘quintessential' Sam Peckinpah film, so too can The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly be considered to be the quintessential film that showcases the great Sergio Leone's wealth of talents.

The plot of the film follows that of bandit Tuco (‘The Ugly', played by Eli Wallach), mercenary Angel Eyes (‘The Bad', played by Lee Van Cleef), and bounty hunter Blondie (‘The Good', played by Clint Eastwood, of course) and their intertwining tales. The three men all are in search of buried gold, estimated at being over two-hundred thousand dollars worth in wealth, as their search for the treasure carries out in the midst of the American Civil War. That's pretty much the outline for the plot of the film, as the details of the story itself is rather long and involved, but well-worth the time it takes to sit through it. Following the success of For a Few Dollars More, United Artist approached Leone and company with a load of cash, for the both the distribution rights to that second installment in the Dollars Trilogy, as well the rights to produce the potential next Leone Western – The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. As much as I love Once Upon a Time in the West, I must admit that this film truly marks the moment that the extent of Leone's true talents and abilities came into the proverbial ‘full bloom', as the film is simply masterfully directed and exquisitely paced, regardless of the film's length; it may very well be one of the few three hour Epics that I've seen in my life where I wasn't bored at ANY time while watching it. The film generally marks the true ascension of one of the greats of film in general, and its influence has been strongly resonated in the years since the film's original release; for example, Quentin Tarantino has stated that he feels that The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is the finest directed film in history. The film also stands as not only being the true harkening of the ascension of a great director to a legendary one, but it could also be argued that, for all intents and purposes, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly was arguably the film that at last drove the last nail in the coffin of the Golden Age of Westerns, as it was the film that truly changed the landscape of the Western genre, paving the way for films such as the aforementioned The Wild Bunch to be not only created, but also embraced by the vast majority of Western fans. A truly important film in the history of the Western (and film in general), and the added quality of the flawless directing and iconic acting and score is merely a bonus in this regard.

2. The Searchers (1956)



If one was to sit down to analyze and average out the vast majority of lists that have been created over the years in regards to Great Westerns, I'm sure that one would discover that director John Ford's 1956 epic masterpiece The Searchers would appear at Number One a large majority of the time; in fact, had I myself NOT elected to open this particular list to mini-series', The Searchers would indeed be easily placed in my top spot (uh, spoiler?). And it's all for good reason – the film DESERVES all the praise and recognition it's garnered since its creation. What's more is that the film is often hailed by a collection of this generation's greatest directors as being one of the most influential films of their respective careers, a film that would help to shape their own directorial visions, which would be a list that includes Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, and George Lucas. The Searchers was also hailed by the likes of Akira Kurosawa and Sergio Leone as being one of the greatest films ever created, and coming from the likes of those two gentlemen, how could any present a feasible argument? As I stated a few weeks back, the early 1950's saw what could be considered the very first seeds planted for what would eventually become known as the Revisionist Period in relation to the genre of Westerns; as I've mentioned before, such early ‘examples' (if that's indeed what you can refer to them as) were born from their creators questioning certain accepted themes/tropes that were found in a large majority of Westerns produced during the Golden Age, such as the depiction of the Indians or the psychology of heroes and villains, of which films like Broken Arrow, The Gunfighter, High Noon, and Shane could be considered as being a part of. As such, I believe that The Searchers could be considered as one of those ‘early seeds' that predated Revisionist Westerns, as well. However, many of the ideas and themes that the film explores aren't necessarily presented at a certain surface level where all can see, nor does the film beat its ‘messages' over the collective heads of the audience. For as deep and complex as the film is, it all comes across as being relatively subtle.

The plot of the film follows a man named Ethan Edwards (John Wayne, in what is undoubtedly his finest performance, naturally). Ethan returns home from the Civil War to live with his brother and his wife, as well as their children. Shortly after he returns home, however, Comanches attack the homestead, killing Ethan's brother and sister-in-law, and kidnapping the couple's two daughters, Lucy and Debbie. Directly afterwards, Ethan sets out with a posse of other men in search of his nieces, though his accompaniment with the posse is somewhat short-lived after the leader of the group keeps Ethan from fruitlessly killing a Comanche warrior, which leads to Ethan deserting the group. The rest of the film follows Ethan and various other companions over a seven year period as they search for the two sisters, eventually finding both: one turns out to be dead, while the other has been seemingly perfectly assimilated into the tribe of her abductors…which leaves Ethan with just one option left – to kill his niece, the last living member of his family. Now, the character of Ethan is a fairly deep one, when one ponders on the man and just what it is that drives him. Ethan isn't necessarily a ‘hero' by any stretch of the imagination, though he has taken up a noble cause; Edwards has a deep and unfaltering hatred of the Indians, and will stop at nothing short of genocide in order to bring back his nieces. However, by that same token, Edwards proves at various times during the course of the film that actually bringing his nieces back alive ISN'T necessarily the only option…as long as he finds them – yet, Ethan isn't necessarily a villain either, nor would I consider him to be an ‘anti-hero'. What's more is that one must question the motives of Ethan's quest, if he does indeed consider bringing his nieces back dead if need be to be a viable course of events; is he actually searching for THEM, for their well-being? Or is it something else that drives him, such as his blind hatred for the Indians? As well, the Indians themselves, while definitely the antagonists in a fashion, aren't necessarily the villains either, as ALL men are capable of evil doings as proven through the course of the film, which deftly explores the idea of racism, hiding it effectively within the folds of the value system of most Golden Age Westerns. And, of course, seeing as how the film IS a Ford Western, it's filled with great performances, great direction, and great cinematography; everything is great, no doubt about it. Like the other ten films that are found in my Top Eleven, The Searchers deserves to be given much more space in which to parlay just how great I think it is…but, unfortunately, space constraints restrict me from doing so. As such, if you REALLY must know just HOW great The Searchersis, then I'd suggest you watch it for yourself. And watch it more than once…you'll find it to be as timeless as I do.

1. Lonesome Dove (1989)



Now, anyone that has followed my column for any substantial amount of time should know by now how much stock I put in – and how much love I have for – all things Epic. In terms of Epic Westerns, very few films of that particular genre surpass Lonesome Dove in its epic grandeur, particularly in regards to the film's various interweaving, intricate plotlines. Of course, since it IS a six-hour long television miniseries, it does seem to be cheating more than a fair bit to be placing the epicness of Lonesome Dove above that of theatrical films that run two, two-and-a-half hours long…but, then again, I opened up the list to include miniseries' for one specific reason – Lonesome Dove is unquestionably the greatest Western ever created, in my honest opinion, and from the very first time I watched the thing way back in 1989 during its original airing, I've loved it. In case you don't know, the film is based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Larry McMurtry, a novel which itself is considered by many to seminal work in the realms of Western fiction; however, what you may not know is that the origin for Lonesome Dove lies way back in 1971. Originally, Lonesome Dove existed as a movie script written by McMurtry, a script that was initially intended to star John Wayne as Woodrow Call, Jimmy Stewart as Gus McCrae, and Henry Fonda as Jake Spoon, with Peter Bogdanovich set to direct. However, once Wayne turned down his part in the film, the others followed suit, at which point the project was placed on the shelf to collect dust, until ten years later when McMurtry was able to purchase the rights to the script back and transformed the script into his novel. Before the book could be published, however, producer Suzanne De Passe bought the rights to Lonesome Dove from McMurtry, in hopes of producing a television miniseries whose original airing would coincide with the release of the book; she was turned down by every major network that she took the project to. Turned down, that is, until AFTER the book had been published and was proven to be an incredible success, as well as Pulitzer Prize winner, at which point the tables turned. Every major network then put in substantial bids in order to obtain the rights to produce and air the miniseries, with CBS ultimately winning out. Considering that the film in now considered to be one of the greatest miniseries' ever created and was met with successful ratings and accolades, one wonders what could have happened had Lonesome Dove been released to theaters, maybe even in two parts. Would it have won the Oscar for Best Picture, breathing fresh air into the Western genre as it pertained to theaters upon its release…a year before Dances with Wolves would do so? I'd like to think that Lonesome Dove indeed would have. However, I don't think anybody should linger on the ‘what-could-have-beens' in regards to the idea of the project having starred Wayne, Stewart, and Fonda – three true greats in the long history of the Western. Honestly, I can't imagine it being any better than what it already is.

Of course, as I said, the plot – or plots, rather – of Lonesome Dove is truly epic in its scope, and, really, there's no way that I can relate to anyone the ‘main' plot without ignoring many of the other plot-threads that weave their magic throughout the six-hour masterpiece; it is, however, fantastic in the breadth of emotions that it culls from the viewer (speaking for myself, of course) as the story/stories of Lonesome Dove are at times witty, funny, exciting, breath-taking, and, perhaps above all, heart-breaking. Needless to say, however, the main framing device for the plot is that of a 2,500-mile cattle drive, undertaken by ex-Texas Rangers Call and McCrae (and many other characters that follow them), though interlocking in some way, shape, or form to that main plot are: Fort Smith, Arkansas, sheriff July Johnson, heading for Texas in search of Jake Spoon, ex-Texas Ranger and the man that killed July's brother; Ellie, July's wife, who takes off for Ogallala in search of her REAL husband, a criminal named Dee Boot, who sits in jail; Roscoe, July's deputy, who takes off in search of July to tell him of Ellie's leaving; Lorena Wood, whore of the town of Lonesome Dove, who takes off with Jake for a better life; Blue Duck, the antagonist of the tale…well, I'm sure you see what I mean, so just take my word for it that there's much, MUCH more to tell. There's just too much going on during the course of the movie to relate in any concise manner. However, one can have a magnificently great and intriguing plot…but without great characters to carry said plot, words such as ‘great' and ‘intriguing' would no longer apply. Likewise, in regards to film, great characters can be completely negated by lax performances, and therein lies Lonesome Dove's truest strength – its cast. Starring the likes of Robert Duvall and Tommy Lee Jones (both of whom, in the roles of Gus and Call respectively, are worth the proverbial price of admission alone), as well as Danny Glover, Robert Urich, Frederic Forrest, Chris Cooper, Angelica Huston, Diane Lane, and many others, I would daresay that Lonesome Dove stands as being one of the finest cast films ever created; every performance that can be found in the picture, from the top-dogs of Duvall and Jones down to the smaller roles with the likes Timothy Scott as kind-but-slow Pea-Eye Parker (my favorite character) and Steve Buschemi as Luke the buffalo hunter, are ALL fantastic. In fact, this may very well be not only one of the best cast films, but best ACTED films of all-time. It is, in my opinion, the greatest Western ever made, whether it's a miniseries or not, and I highly doubt that this true masterpiece will ever be surpassed, at least in our lifetimes. It should be required viewing for all.

And with that, I say…good-bye.