Legends of Western Cinema Week || Mini Movie Reviews

I always watch at least a few new Westerns in the weeks leading up to LOWCW, and 2022 was no exception.  Unfortunately, however, most of this year's selections underwhelmed me.  *insert disappointed cowboy sigh here*

Still!  I have higher hopes for next year's roster, and at least there were elements that I liked in each of the ones I watched for this year's party.

Let's discuss, shall we?

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Open Range (2003)

Was I blown away by this?  No.  Did I like it well enough?  Yes.  I feel like it's a "cottagecore Western," if that makes sense.  And, while I fully appreciate that aesthetic, I think that, in this instance, the film could have benefited from more verve.

For example, for such a long movie, it's puzzlingly underdone.  I say that as someone who loves understated stories, understand — I firmly believe that there's very little that's richer or more artistically valid than economical (but potent) storytelling.  The problem is, there has to be that potency along with the economy.  You have to give us enough meat to sink our teeth into, even if that meat isn't flaming barbecue.  (Weird choice of metaphor for a vegetarian, I know, but work with me.)  And, in this case, I just didn't feel that there was much of anything there, at the core of the story.  (On the other hand, it could just as legitimately be interpreted as a simple, slice-of-life story.)

Despite my quibbles, I did feel that there was one standout among the story elements, and that was the romance.  It's not a heart-throbbing love story, and it's not ideally paced, but it was still soft and sweet and kind of awkward, and you know that there's very little that I love more than a soft and sweet and kind of awkward romance.  I live for that nonsense.

Charley was especially compelling for me as an individual character.  He has a bit of Tom Harte energy to him, and we all know how I feel about Tom Harte.  So, while I didn't think that Charley's character — or anyone's character, to be honest — was developed as fully as it should have been, he definitely won me over and I have a feeling that he'll get under my skin.  Kevin Costner can be hit or miss for me, but I was relatively impressed by his performance here. 

I also like what my cohost Heidi pointed out last year:  how the show leaves certain little backstory tidbits "dangling" — prompting interesting questions it doesn't necessarily answer.  (What's the history between Sue and the deputy, for instance?)  That attention to detail gives the show a spice of pleasantly homey mystery, dontcha know.

Tombstone (1993)

Nope.  Sorry, folks, but this one's not for me.  I was all set to love it, and then I decidedly Didn't.  I . . . I have many thoughts, but exactly three (3) of them are complimentary, so I guess the less said here, the better. 

In my opinion, the only thing that makes this movie even remotely worth watching is Val Kilmer's unforgettable turn as Doc Holliday.  It's an outstanding performance (albeit one that is — again, in my humble and subjective opinion — utterly wasted on such a ridiculous film), and I look forward to peppering his lines into my everyday conversation for the foreseeable future. 😁  The rest of the movie may be sheer, shoddy silliness — the "romance" may be insipid and problematic to boot — Kurt Russell's acting may be difficult to watch at times — the runtime may keep on unspooling long after the story has worn out its welcome — but Kilmer's Holliday is a shimmering, glowing star in the cinema firmament, and I can't say he isn't.

(One last thing:  Is that the actual story of the gunfight at the O.K. Corral?  As in, how and why it went down?  Because I don't genuinely care, at the end of the day, but I also can't tell you how anticlimactic that was. 😂)

Django Unchained (2012)

I don't know exactly how I feel about this one.  As other reviewers have said, the core of the story is there, I think the characterization is (for the most part) solid, and there are of course some excellent performances.  I think I would like it overall if it weren't for Quentin Tarantino. 

For one thing, does my guy understand how blood works?  As in, how it flows in and out of the body?  Because I'm not a medical professional, but I did take a perfunctory first aid class and even I know that it ain't that way. 😂  Moreover, gore that stylized always makes me laugh more than anything else because it's so juvenile — it instantly betrays a filmmaker who's trying way too hard.

Aside from that, though, the film does succeed in containing several genuinely disturbing moments.  However, I think you have to wonder how much of the credit for that can be ascribed to Tarantino and how much of it is due to the fact that slavery is simply inherently disturbing.  You know what I mean?

Also, while I don't think that all female characters (or all male characters) need to "save themselves" in order to qualify as valid and valuable, it would have been nice to see Django's wife's character given even a smidgen of development.   (And that laughable attempt at giving her some "agency" by having her hoist a rifle for about 0.2 seconds while she rides out of frame in the last shot?  Please.  A SMACKEREL of subtlety, I beg of you.)

Still, I will admit that I haven't really stopped thinking about the movie since I watched it.  So that's something.

Sweet Country (2017)

There's something uncanny about this film, and I couldn't put my finger on what until I realized that it has no soundtrack.  And I mean none whatsoever.  Not a single note of music accompanies the harsh, silent, yet vibrant cinematography.  Nary a violin, nary a French horn — nothing except for the end credits song.

This relentless sonic absence actually strengthens the film, in my opinion.  It makes for a much more immersive experience, and the tension is considerably enhanced.  There's nothing to shield you from the stark realism of the film; you're forced to inhabit the story with a heightened sense of empathy, because it's easier to imagine what it would be like to actually be experiencing it.

On the other hand, the silent nature of the show acts as a deceptively disarming influence.  It's a mesmerizingly beautiful film, akin to Malick's New World (2006), but its beauty is arid and still and sparse.  There's almost a sense of lethargy to it, but it's probably the most productive lethargy I've ever seen.  It almost lulls you into believing that nothing could ever really happen in that wide, empty, imposing expanse of Australian desert — and then it reminds you, with startling swiftness, that it most certainly could.

The violence, while relatively rare, is also relatively strong.  But because the film is so incredibly quiet, it's hard to even register the violence as violent, if that makes any sense.  In one scene, for instance, you literally watch the lifeblood seep out of a man's carotid artery in an extended close-up, and still it's hard to process it as disturbing.  Like I said, disarming — but undeniably masterful.

It's a film that demands to be ingested slowly and thoughtfully, and repeatedly.  I'm looking forward to doing just that, and to possibly giving it a proper review one of these days.

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Have you watched any of these Westerns?

What do you think of them, if you have?