This being a review in a month-long exploration of the Western genre.
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I’ve seen a lot of Westerns. I actively seek out the genre for two reasons. Firstly, existing within a genre of B-pictures with lesser commercial prospects, the films often have a freedom to poke and prod at the nature of film and storytelling in ways films with more money put into them, and thus with more money expected in return, might not have the unexpected freedom for. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, the Western was historically perhaps the genre where America and its desires are most wont to play themselves out for audiences. Westerns explore a mythic version of traditional American life – some uphold it, some read it past itself to create untold postmodern myths, and some take a knife to the genre and skewer it for all to see. Continue reading
Wild Wild Best: Rio Bravo
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Early period westerns aren’t exactly the most realistic of films, nor are they known to be among the most original either, and with good reason. Pre-1960s Westerns often follow suit with their fore-bearers, seemingly content to present the story of the nameless drifter or the fastidious and courageous lawmen who saves the damsel in distress from villains that fall somewhere between Snidely Whiplash and Genghis Khan. There’s bound to be a shootout or two, and chances are good that one may feature the characters suddenly rushing to fit into place on the cue of a clock striking…ahem…high noon. Thank you, thank you. Many of these films also happen to be masterpieces of fable-like proportions, playing less like nuanced reality than a collective dream of a time long-gone. They work like bed-time stories we tell ourselves to ward away the evil spirits of icky things, which, unfortunately, included progress and modernity to those who often watched the films.
The Long Take 