Assassination in and/or of the Western

I recently spoke with a friend who told me about an article (I believe by Zizek) that discussed how the Western eventually became impossible to make and that we were left with "meta-westerns." (Bryan, forgive me if I am doing a poor job of recounting.) This trend began with "Shane" (which I have not actually seen), in which the entire Western unfolds from the perspective of the child. From then on, Westerns were no longer possible; instead, "Westerns" were stories that unfolded from the gaze of someone actually watching the real Western take place (e.g. "Shane's" child).

With this in mind, I will address two "Westerns" that I recently watched: "The Wild Bunch" (1969)  and "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford" (2007).

Sam Peckinpah's highly revered "The Wild Bunch" reaffirms that the late '60's through the late '70's was a thusly unparalleled bright spot in American film. The film fits perfectly into the stream of paradigmatic movies.

Following a band of outlaws across the border to Mexico, Peckinpah tells the story of men with high principle and low ethic. These scofflaws are Shakespearean in their dedication to principle--N.B. The men hold promises and "others' words" as infallible and anyone who breaks his word is the true criminal. The antagonists are not the thieving and murderous criminals. They represent all the Wild West and a freedom to roam while abiding by principles that keep us alive (at least for a while). The true antagonists are not even the men hired by the railroad company to bring-in this band of outlaws; these men are also doing what they need to do to make a living in a corrupt society. Instead the antagonists are the ones infringing upon principle and liberty: the railroad tycoon, the lecherous and conquering Mexican general, and the bandits who do not pay the whores.

Made after "Shane," "The Wild Bunch" seems to retain a genuine Western feel. There is a pacing that matches the expansive, endless geography: There are sub-plots and shots in the story that extend almost pointlessly lest only to love an uninhibited lifestyle and land. There are anti-heroes, and their are conniving villains. No damsels in distress, but definite stories of vengeance, redemption, and longing for a different time when the American people were "destined" for unfiltered, unregulated expansion. Also, the narrative unfolds from multiple perspectives instead of from a witness to the Western.

I particularly love the opening shots in which Peckinpah parallels the children burning tortured scorpions (attacked furiously by a colony of red ants) with the villagers being massacred as they are caught between bounty hunters and outlaws. Crafty and beautiful, the shot validates Peckinpah as more than a T.V. director (his credits include "Gunsmoke," "Broken Arrow," and "The Rifleman"). Also, there is nothing like a crazy gold miner's laugh--this time courtesy of Freddie Sykes: Three.5 out of Five stars.



The plot, here, is deceived by the title. Still, the film is gripping in exploring Jesse James's final months, his acquaintance with Robert Ford, and how Robert Ford comes to the point of assassinating his childhood icon.

Directed by a relatively unknown (Andrew Dominick) and led by one of my favorite pop-actors (Brad Pitt) and an actor proving to be worth following (Casey Affleck), each contributor to this film commands movie-appreciators' attention. Even the secondary parts and tertiary roles (Sam Rockwell, Jeremy Renner, Zooey Deschannel) are well-acted and exciting.

I say exciting despite the cautious story development because we, as the audience, know where the movie is headed and are eager to get there. There is a tension that boils below the surface as Robert Ford suffers embaraasment after embarassment at the hands of his role model, Jesse James.

I am not sure the "Shane" reading with which I began this post necessarily applies to this movie. I think it can be part of the viewing: Ford's witnessing of James's exploits. But, I think the blurry shots, the foreboding and sad soundtrack, and certain cinematic homages encourage a slightly different reading: Jesse James represents the West and the Western while Robert Ford represents the modern attempt at capturing the West and recreating the Western.

Regardless of the hints that the West is no more (e.g. the ghostly masks worn during the train robbery), Dominick does not depict one of the Wild West's most written-about figures as particularly invigorated. Pitt plays James with a stoic insanity, but James is mostly tired, weary, and ready to rest when his circumstances and his followers will allow him. Or, perhaps I should say, when his circumstances and his followers finish him. He is pushed forward by his reputation. But we see him fading from glory.

Meanwhile Ford represents James's audience. The former is fascinated with the latter. The former wants to emulate the latter--note the quote in the preview, "wanna be like me, or you wanna be me?" And the former is ultimately responsible for the misconstruing and death of the latter.

The scene in which Ford lists the similarities between him and James is painful. Ford is a child, still, despite sitting at a table with a business partner. And though he shares many superficial qualities with James (looks like a cowboy, acts likes a cowboy, was raised like a cowboy), he is nothing like the courageous and insane James; and though Ford as the Modern Western Action Movie shares many superficial qualities with James as the true Western (imagery, plot, themes), the Modern Western Action Movie lacks the spirit of its model.

We can even interpret James Carville's character as a symbol of modernity inhibiting authenticity or the fact that Ford does what he does for money as an indication of industry destroying originality. But the recounting of Ford's life after murdering James should be the message most discussed: As Ford reenacts his "brave exploits" of shooting James when James was at his weakest, the restaging of the preversion attains a new level of perversity with each subsequent performance. What is captured (including photographs of a dead James) are but a reflection of the truth.

With beautiful cinematography that incorporates many shots of an autumnal or wintery landscape with dying grasses and snowy, fauna-less ridges, I was reminded of Terrence Malick films. Certain shots as seen through doorways are homages to John Wayen in "The Searchers." Instead of the lively landscapes though, cold squaller covers the dead West (read: the dead Western).

I believe that Dominick and company are offering a suggestion to filmmakers interested in making another Western: Let the past rest and move-on. Obviously, I thuroughly enjoyed this film: Four.5 out of Five stars.