Western Wednesdays: A Coffin for the Sheriff (1965)

     A Coffin for the Sheriff was released on December 23rd, 1965. Directed by Mario Caiano and written by David Moreno and Guido Malatesta it stars Anthony Steffen as Shenandoah, a drifter who joins up with a band of outlaws in his pursuit of vengeance for his wife, who was raped and murdered by one of their number. 

     A Coffin for the Sheriff is a very uneven film. Some scenes are rather inspired: Shenandoah's initiation into the gang which involves a cat and mouse with one of the bandits, where the latter is given twelve bullets and Shenandoah only one, and the climax where he stalks his wife's killer through the streets of Richmond. Unfortunately, much of the film is plodding and predictable and the script is incredibly stilted, even by genre standards. It is also tonally inconsistent at times, with the comic relief (mostly supplied by Jesús Tordesillas' anonymous old man) clashing with the films dark, violent story. 

     Director Mario Caiano, whose first western, Bullets Don't Argue, was an uninspired rip-off of American westerns, takes this film in a much more dark and brutal direction. The scene where Shenandoah is beat by the gang after they discover his true motives lives up to the genre's usual sadistic standards and the attempted rape of Luciana Gilli's Jane Wilson is, in particular, hard to watch. If nothing else, Caiano was skilled at directing action scenes and this film has some good ones. The aforementioned climax is a highlight as is the furious shootout which precedes it. Earlier scenes, where the bandits flee the town after a robbery and where they attack Wilson's (George Rigaud) ranch are also well done. 

     Anthony Steffen is solid in the lead role. He plays it stoically through most of the film but really comes alive near the end, when the identity of his wife's killer is revealed. Eduardo Fajardo is practically dripping with evil as the murderer Murdock while Armando Calvo brings his own sense of menace to Lupe Rojo, the leader of the gang. Arturo Dominici brings plenty of sleaze to Jerry Krueger, the cowardly lawyer turned bandit. María Vico imbues Lupe's much abused mistress with a real sense of pathos and bitterness while Luciana Gilli gives the otherwise wilting Jane Wilson a spirited streak. Her father on the other hand, as portrayed by George Rigaud seems peculiarly indifferent through most of the proceedings. 

     In the end, A Coffin for the Sheriff is a thoroughly routine and at times rather crude spaghetti western. It is worth checking out for its action scenes and its suspenseful climax. 

Score: 6/10

Western Wednesdays: Buchanan Rides Alone (1958)

     Released on August 6th, 1958, Buchanan Rides Alone is directed by Budd Boetticher and prodcued by Harry Joe Brown. Written by Charles Lang, it is an adaptation of the 1956 novel, The Name's Buchanan by Jonas Ward. In it Randolph Scott plays Tom Buchanan, a gun-for-hire who is embroiled in an internal conflict in the town of Agry, California.

     The fourth of a six film collaboration between Brown, Boetticher and star Randolph Scott, Buchanan Rides Alone was the second written by Charles Lang, however, Boetticher was unsatisfied with Lang's screenplay and asked his regular writer, Burt Kennedy (who had scripted Seven Men from Now and The Tall T), to touch it up a bit. It definitely bears the mark of Kennedy's writing, with witty lines like "This sure is a $10 town." Scott's character here is almost the antithesis of Bart Allison who he played in the previous film, Decision at Sundown (1957).  While Allison was a broken, ragged man, on the edge of sanity, Buchanan is perfectly cool and at ease, seemingly unperturbed by the predicaments he finds himself in throughout the film. 

      The cast are all around excellent. Barry Kelley, Tol Avery Peter Whitney and William Leslie play a group of brothers who have come to rule the town which bears their name through corruption and subterfuge. Avery's Judge Simon Agry is the leader of the bunch, a manipulative  and unscrupulous politician, willing to do whatever it takes to get ahead. Kelley plays his more ruthless and cruel brother, town sheriff Lew Agry while Whitney is the groveling third wheel, Amos, dissatisfied with his lowly position as clerk at the hotel, is constantly scheming to get his piece of the pie. Finally, Leslie is the hot headed younger brother Roy, whose murder sets the plot in motion. Manuel Rojas is the murderer, Juan de la Vega, whose determination to avenge the honor of his sister, raped by Roy, borders on fatalism. Craig Stevens plays the shrewd Abe Carbo, the judge's right hand man and, in many ways, the real brains of the organization. A young L. Q. Jones is the honorable thug, Pecos Hill whose affinity for Buchannan as a fellow west Texan leads to his reform (and eventual demise). Of course Randolph Scott is supremely confident as the unflappable Tom Buchanan, going through the film with the swagger of a matador (the subject was an ongoing obsession of Boetticher who got his big break with Bullfighter and the Lady (1951) and closed out his career with the bullfighting documentary Arruza in 1971).

     Boetticher cited Buchanan Rides Alone as his personal favorite among his collaborations with Scott. It is the lightest in tone and, compared to the other films in the cycle, is a little sparse both with the action and the romance. While the action could almost be said to revolve around women in the other films of the Ranown cycle, the only women in this has fairly minor, inconsequential roles. Cinematographer Lucien Ballard, who was a frequent collaborator with Boetticher and would go on to shoot some of Sam Peckinpah's best films, does some solid work here and is especially adept at blocking, with characters artfully arranged in the foreground and background. 

     Though probably the weakest of the Ranown cycle Buchanan Rides Alone is still a solid western, with a clever script, a terrific cast and sturdy direction from Boetticher.

Score: 8/10

Western Wednesdays: Wagon Tracks (1919)

     Wagon Tracks was released on July 29th, 1919. Directed by Lambert Hillyer and written by C. Gardner Sullivan it stars William S. Hart as Buckskin Hamilton, the captain of a wagon train, who sets out to the avenge the murder of his brother, Billy.

     The film opens by showing how his brother was murdered. Catching a card shark (Robert McKim's David Washburn) who was trying to cheat him in a poker game, Billy disarms him only to be accosted by his sister (Jane Novak's Jane Washburn), who mistakenly believes that Billy is threatening her brother. In the shuffle Washburn sneaks up and pulls the trigger, killing Billy, and then convinces Jane that she was responsible. 

     Hart was a strict moralist, a fact which shines through every film he ever starred in. Though the characters he plays often live wicked lives, they are always reformed by the end of the picture. The character he plays here is a straight shooter from the beginning but the deep shame Buckskin feels at his brother's seemingly dishonorable death and his utter disbelief at the suggestion that a woman could have killed him are very typical of the kinds of characters Hart liked to portray. 

     The film also puts forth a distinctly Christian, if somewhat puritanical concept of justice. When Buckskin finally discovers that Washburn killed his brother, he foregoes his vengeance for the good of the settlers. Spurred on by Jane, he shows mercy to Washburn but, since justice demands that he die for his crimes, he gives him the choice of giving himself up to the Indians, presumably to be tortured, or taking his own life. Assuming he will take the cowards way out, Hamilton determines to offer himself as a scapegoat in Washburn's place. Duplicitous to the end, Washburn attempts to escape only to fall into the hands of the Indians, both (inadvertently) satisfying justice and preventing innocent blood from being shed. 

     The Indians are treated in a surprisingly sympathetic manner. They have a legitimate grievance with the white settlers as one of their number is killed over a misunderstanding. They also offer to let one man pay for this injustice instead of the whole party. As is typical of the westerns of this period, relations between the white settlers and the natives is ultimately seen as a tragic culture clash rather then dominance of one group over another or as the "triumph of civilization."

     Wagon Tracks features some of the most effective use of tinting I've seen in a silent film. The sepia tones give a sense of the oppressive heat, which is contrasted with the cool blue tints of the night scenes whereas the scenes in front of the fireplace, where Washburn's fate is decided, have an almost hellish tone. It's a little short on the action, as was increasingly common in Hart's later film's, focusing more on melodrama. Lambert Hillye, who directed many of Hart's westerns and would go on to helm many B-westerns well into the 40's, milks this melodrama for everything it's worth, getting heartrending, theatrical performances from the whole cast.   

     In many ways Wagon Tracks is the summation of the William Hart western. It is not a film for fans looking for the fast paced action of a Tom Mix or Hoot Gibson picture, but if you want a melodramatic morality play, look no further.

Score: 8/10

My Favorite Films: The Great Muppet Caper (1981) (Musical Mondays)

     Of all the Muppet films, The Great Muppet Caper is probably the one I've seen the most. Along with Muppet Treasure Island, it was a film that my siblings and I would routinely borrow from our local public library when we were growing up. It's one of the movies I could probably recite line-by-line. It's also easily the funniest of the eight theatrical films.

     Of course, the Muppet performers are all in top form but a lot of credit for this has to go the the human actors. For one thing you have the incomparable Diana Rigg as Lady Holiday. Her dry sense of humor contrasts wonderfully with all the zaniness around her. Charles Grodin, playing her brother Nicky ("an irresponsible parasite") is wonderfully over-the-top, and he plays the character's absurd infatuation with Miss Piggy with a hilarious earnestness. Both actors play brilliantly off of each other and off of their Muppet co-stars, as do many of the more minor players. Of course it helps that this film features the two greatest cameos in movie history from John Cleese and Peter Falk.

     The real key to the films success however is its script, by Muppet regular Jerry Juhl along with Jack Rose (an Academy Award nominated veteran of classic Hollywood comedies) and Tom Patchett and Jay Tarses (who both worked on The Bob Newhart Show and The Carol Burnett Show). Combining running jokes, sight gags, non sequiturs, and absurd (often fourth-wall breaking) humor, The Great Muppet Caper represents the Muppet's at the height of their comedic power. When I was a kid watching Beauregard driving like a madman around London was the funniest thing ever. Now I can appreciate how sharp the screenplay really is and the jokes that went over my head as a kid ("It's plot exposition it has to go somewhere.", "My wife isn't feeling very well...") are the ones I laugh the hardest at now. 

      Of course, like its predecessor, the film constantly breaks the fourth wall. As I mentioned in my review of that film, this maintains the meta slight-of-hand that helped make the Muppets feel real. The Great Muppet Caper does this somewhat more effortlessly then its predecessor, and the Muppets drift in and out of character seamlessly at different points throughout the film. Just watch the scene where Kermit and Piggy get into a heated argument in front of the duck pond and slip into a behind-the-scenes dispute ("I am playing 800 different emotions." "Well, try to play one of them right"). It's just brilliant writing.

     The Great Muppet Caper is generally more focused on sending up Hollywood clichés then the The Muppet Movie was. That film used the template of a road trip movie to tell the story of how the Muppets got together whereas this is essentially a heist film with elements of film noir romances and classical Hollywood musicals thrown in for good measure. It is clear that Jim Henson and co. had a love for this kind of genre fare. This is most obvious in some of the films more impressive musical numbers. "The First Time It Happens" channels Busby Berkely while "Piggy's Fantasy" hearkens back to the so-called "aquamusicals" of Esther Williams.

     The songs, by Joe Raposo (who worked on both Sesame Street and The Muppet Show), are not as memorable as Paul Williams and Kenneth Ascher's music for The Muppet Movie, but Raposo does a respectable job following in their footsteps nonetheless. The film opens with "Hey A Movie!", which sets the tone for the film's send-up of classical Hollywood cliches ("There'll be mystery and catastrophe. But it's all in fun, you paid the money, wait and see") and also sets the plot into motion as Kermit, Fozzie, and Gonzo (playing investigative reporters) are so busy with the opening number that the miss the jewel robbery, and all the other slapstick hijinks, occurring around them, prompting them to go to London to interview Lady Holiday, whose jewels are stolen, to redeem themselves in the eyes of their boss, Mr. Tarkanian (Jack Warden).

     "Happiness Hotel", probably the films most memorable tune, introduces the rest of the Muppet gang as residents of the dilapidated London hotel where Kermit, Fozzie, and Gonzo are staying. "Steppin' Out With a Star" serves as kind of a love theme for Kermit, who channels Fred Astaire by dancing with a clothes rack. It transitions into a tercet with Gonzo and Fozzie as he agrees to let them come along on his "date". "Night Life" serves as an ironic accompaniment to Kermit and Piggy's first date, as they ride to the Dubonnet Club on Happiness Hotel bus while Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem boogie away. Finally, the gentle "Couldn't We Ride" provides the often frantic film with a leisurely change of pace, as the Muppets take a bicycle ride through the London park after Kermit and Piggy resolve their differences.

     In general, The Great Muppet Caper is more impressive in its production value then its predecessor, likely thanks to its bigger budget. The sets are much more elaborate and there is a much larger cast of extras. Much of the film was shot on location in England and Oswald Morris cinematography is more crisp and polished looking then Isidore Mankofsky's softer look for The Muppet Movie. After showing Kermit riding a bicycle in that film caused such a stir, Jim Henson, stepping into the directors chair for the sequel, took it even further this time around, creating a complex system of rods, marionette wires and remote control bicycles for the scene wherein all the Muppets are seen bicycling at the same time. But it's in the "Piggy's Fantasy" number that they really pulled out all the stops, building a custom-made heated pool on the sound stage, giving Frank Oz scuba training, and designing special, water-resistant Miss Piggy puppets.

     Yet, for all that, the film never loses that sense of whimsy and innocence which is at the heart of Jim Henson's creation. As Henson intended, this is a film that people of all ages can enjoy, from the young and wide-eyed to the old and jaded. Like its predecessor, The Great Muppet Caper is a true family film.

Western Wednesdays: Lonely are the Brave (1962)

     Lonely are the Brave was released on May 24th, 1962. Based on the novel The Brave Cowboy, by Edward Abbey, it is adapted for the screen by Dalton Trumbo and directed by David Miller. In it Kirk Douglas plays John W. Burns ("Jack for short"), a drifting ranch hand who gets himself busted in order to break his old friend Paul Bondi (Michael Kane) out of prison.

     Lonely are the Brave is a neo-western. This genre, rather then dealing with the passing of the west as so many classic westerns do, is concerned with the exploring the conventions of the genre but is set in a period after "the west" has passed on and civilization has set in. Jack Burns is a westerner. He is a independent rugged individual who'd prefer to live in a world without fences, without borders and away from the long arm of the law. But, in the words of Paul's wife Jerry (Gena Rowlands), this world doesn't exist anymore, "maybe it never did."

     The film is critical of Jack's lifestyle. When he offers to break Paul out his old friend turns him down. He has a wife and child to support and can not afford to live on the run from the law. "You grew up on me didn't you?" says Jack, acknowledging the immaturity of the life he has chosen to lead. Just as the wilderness must eventually give way to civilization, so the rugged westerner must eventually become civilized, or else perish. Jack comes face-to-face with this reality after escaping prison, when he is hounded by the police in his attempt to cross the mountains into Mexico. Against all odds he outfoxes them again and again, yet his situation becomes more and more hopeless. In some ways it anticipates First Blood, another film about a man who cannot come to terms with society. The film's ending is both unexpected and touchingly ironic. 

     The cast all put in sensitive performances. Kirk Douglas towers over the film as Jack Burns. Only someone of his stature and talent could have brought this living anachronism to life. Walter Matthau is very restrained as the Sheriff tasked with hunting Burns down. Though the audience would usually hate such a character by default, Matthau earns our sympathy as a simple man who is just doing his job, and one who comes to respect the man he's chasing. Gena Rowlands is great as the struggling wife and mother Jerry Bondi, whose feelings for Burns mirror her affection for her husband. Michael Kane convinces as the faithful husband, Paul, though its hard to imagine that he was ever as independently minded as Jack. Western regular George Kennedy plays a small but memorable role as a sadistic prison guard while a young Bill Bixby is featured in an uncredited role as a helicopter pilot. 

     After reading Edward Abbey's novel, Douglas went to Universal with a proposal for an adaptation in which he would star. He picked the cast and crew himself, bringing back Dalton Trumbo, who had penned Spartacus a few years before. Trumbo's screenplay, though it insists on itself at times, does a good job exploring the film's themes. Director David Miller really captures the unforgiving New Mexico locations. Burns is not only beset by society but by nature and Miller captures both elegantly. Philip H. Lathrop's cinematography is stark and evokes film noir at times with its use of shadows and harsh lighting. The score by Jerry Goldsmith, who was virtually an unknown when hired for this film, is restrained and melancholy, anticipating, at times, his later work on First Blood.

     Lonely are the Brave is an excellent neo-western featuring solid direction, distinguished performances and a stirring score all at the service of a complex and thought provoking screenplay. 

Score: 9/10

Western Wednesdays: Three Ruthless Ones (1963)

     Three Ruthless Ones was released on December 19th, 1963. Written and directed by Joaquin L. Romero Marchent (Jesús Navarro Carrión and Rafael Romero Marchent also helped with the script) it stars Richard Harrison, Robert Hundar and Miguel Palenzuela as three brothers who are determined to avenge their father, murdered when they were still just children.

     Released before A Fistful of Dollars revolutionized the Spaghetti western genre, Three Ruthless Ones has more in common with American westerns then its later Italian counterparts (it even features a singing cowboy!). Though the plot centers around vengeance, probably the most common plot in the spaghetti western genre (though there are no shortage of American westerns which also use it), the film condemns this pursuit where many spaghettis would either treat it with ambiguity or, in some cases, glorify it. 

 

     The central conflict of the film is between the oldest brother Chet (Robert Hundar) and the youngest brother Jeff (Richard Harrison). The fiery Chet is consumed with his desire for vengeance and is willing to do anything to get it while the more kind hearted Jeff is determined to abide by the law and see that the killers are brought to a fair trial and hung for their crimes. The pragmatic, level headed middle brother Brad (Miguel Palenzuela) is stuck in the middle, willing to follow the law to a certain extent but recognizing that it has limits. The two older brothers are influenced by their bitter mother (Gloria Milland) who has made them swear, on their father's grave, that they will avenge him.

     The main cast is fairly solid and the characters are all well drawn. With his handsome face and impassioned delivery, Richard Harrison is well cast as the forthright Jeff Walker. He is equally determined to bring his father's killers to justice and to abide by the letter of the law. This brings him into conflict with his family and later with his girl Susannah (Gloria Osuna) who, it turns out, is the daughter of the man who killed his father. Chet is the antithesis of Jeff. He is cynical, moody and consumed with his need for revenge and Robert Hundar does a fine job in the role, alternating between an angry scowl and a malicious grin through most of the film. His best scene occurs about halfway through, when Chet, on the run from the law, almost murders a man who tries to stop him from stealing his horse, only to be dissuaded by the sight of his wife and child. Miguel Palenzuela certainly has the least intriguing material to work with as the dependable, level-headed Brad Walker. Like Chet, Brad has a cruel streak, but it is softened by his wife May (Dina Loy) who, in a scene that could be culled from a hundred other westerns, pleads with him to forego his vengeance when Chet discovers the whereabouts of their father's killer. But "there are things that a man can never forget."

     Louise Walker, the boys' mother, is a women almost overcome by bitterness, the poison of which has infected her sons. Gloria Milland, though young for the role (she was only 24 at the time of the films release) puts in a really strong performance, particularly during the tragic ending scene where she breaks down and weeps over the body of her slain son, realizing too late what her desire for vengeance has brought him to. Fernando Sancho, a familiar face to any fan of the genre, imbues the film with some much needed warmth and humor as the wandering Mexican Pedro Ramirez, who hires himself on as the family's cook and is later deputized by Jeff to help him clean up the town where his father's killers reside. He is often a voice of reason and, though he himself has experienced tragedy in his past, urges Louise to let go of her hatred before it destroys her. 

     Joaquin L. Romero Marchent's direction is efficient if somewhat undistinguished. His framing is always on point and he handles both the action and the more intimate scenes with equal dexterity. The sensitive script juggles its rather large cast of characters admirably (it also features Francisco Sanz, Gloria Osuna, and Freddie Toehl in small but memorable roles). The film sags in the second act where the it becomes is out with scenes from a rodeo, which are impressively mounted but hardly relevant to the plot. The score, by the usually reliable Riz Ortolani is memorable in its own right but, at times, obtrusively upbeat for the context of the film, especially during the climax. 

     Though not without its flaws Three Ruthless Ones is a well made western with an unusually emotional story line.

Score: 8/10  

Western Wednesdays: Hell Bent (1918)

     Hell Bent is a silent film directed by John Ford. Released on July 6th, 1918 it stars Harry Carey as Cheyenne Harry, a wandering cowpoke who falls in love with a dance hall girl named Bess Thurston (Neva Gerber), who's brother is involved with a hold-up gang. 

     The film opens in a rather inspired way as we seen a writer who, trying to come up with a story for his next novel, contemplates a Frederick Remington picture which Ford brings to life, kicking off the story. It begins with Harry fleeing a poker game in which he was accused of cheating. In the town of Rawhide he comes upon and immediately falls for Bess, only to be deterred when he finds her working in the dance hall. Unbeknownst to Harry, Bess was forced to take this job because her layabout brother, Jack (Vester Pegg) was fired from his. Overcoming his inhibitions, Harry rescues Bess from the overeager patrons of the saloon only to lose her affections when he himself is too forward with her (likely owing to his intoxicated state). He later apologizes for his behavior and they begin seeing each other more regularly. 

     Meanwhile, Bess' no-good brother has hooked up with Beau Ross (Joe Harris) and his gang of criminals. Harry thwarts their attempted bank robbery only to let them escape when he recognizes Jack. Beau kidnaps Bess to lure Harry into a trap and get his revenge and its up to Harry's pal Cimmaron Bill (Duke Lee), to rescue him. 

     The story is economically put together and does a good job setting up all the characters and establishing their relationships. Ford's painterly compositions are already becoming apparent here. The shot recreating the Remington painting is certainly a highlight but there are many other stand out moments as well: the subtle lighting of Bess' face coming through the window when she is kidnapped by Ross and discovers her brothers treachery, the shots of Harry and Beau struggling through the desert landscape which anticipate the directors work on The Three Godfathers (1949), or the high angle of Bess waiting for Harry at the river with the framing anticipating a similar shot of Claire Trevor in Stagecoach (1939).

     Overall, Hell Bent is a fairly solid western and well worth watching for fans of silent cinema or of John Ford.

Score: 7/10