#245. Appaloosa (2008)

 

 

Appaloosa? Wasn't that the name of the woman from Purple Rain?

 

It's easy to see why this one didn't make bank. 2008 was a year of fast and fun blockbusters, so casual audiences likely weren't interested to see a slow, atmospheric throwback western. I know that's how I felt at the time. But now that I've developed a greater appreciation for westerns (and slower stuff in general), I can say I enjoyed it more than I probably would've as a fifteen-year-old.

 

No, the movie doesn't contribute much to its genre, and no, it doesn't quite have my preferred texture (there's something crisp and clean about the sets and cinematography that scans as false to me), but I think it otherwise generally pulls off the modest goals it sets for itself. The scenery's vast, the conflicts sizzle, and the violence comes fast and lethal, which makes up for the lack of visual legitimacy.

 

And while a few of the performances don't entirely work for me (Jeremy Irons is uncharacteristically benign, and Renée Zellweger looks a bit out of place), the central dynamic between Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen provides the necessary charisma. I was already aware that these guys had solid chemistry thanks to A History of Violence, but they're finally given the opportunity to shine as a pair here, and they make for a compelling, and cool, tandem.

 

Grade: B

#166. Destry Rides Again (1939)

 

 

Well, now I know where Blazing Saddles got most of its inspiration from.

 

This movie's a total delight. It's quick, it's fun, and it's actually pretty ahead of its time, I would say. Like, keep in mind: Stagecoach, the John Ford classic that arguably laid the groundwork for many westerns to come, was released in 1939. And here's Destry Rides Again, made the exact same year, joyously upending conventions that weren't even fully-formed yet.

 

Granted, we're not in outright spoof territory, but the movie does use comedy to keep things fresh and subversive. The male lead is a perceived coward who relies on intellect and humility instead of guns (he's honestly got a bit of a Columbo vibe), and the female lead is a short-tempered go-getter who engages in bar brawls and mob heroics. These changes add a lot of charm and flavour, while also establishing social politics that arguably hold up better than most dramatic westerns. 

 

But I think what I like most is that the central conflict is actually played relatively straight, meaning we still get to experience the classic genre tropes (heroes, villains, palpable tension, violent showdowns) in a way that feels both believable and satisfying. There's just a great balance of genres here, which I guess is to be expected when the actors are this charismatic and the energy is this consistently high.

 

Grade: A

 

#139. Rango (2011)

 

 

As studio-backed animated films go, this is certainly a strange one. Even on just a visual level, I'm not really sure how I feel about it. The character designs are hideous, frankly, but Gore Verbinski also manages to bring a lot of life to the movie through detailed lighting and well-realized environments. Most of it pops off the screen - even, on occasion, the ugly freak creatures that inhabit it.

 

Shifting our attention to the story, it's not quite as memorable or unique as I'd like (especially in regards to the Liar Revealed plot, which has always, by far, been my least favourite kids' movie trope), but I love that it's willing to take its time and really bask in this blistering setting. No matter how ridiculous the action or comedy gets, there's a measured pace to the movie that captures the essence of westerns in a way that actually kinda surprised me.

 

When it comes to this medium, I'll always be partial to the likes of Disney and Pixar (forgive me, I was brainwashed from a very young age), but I can absolutely appreciate a big-budget animated movie that seeks to do something different. Especially when the results are this bizarre.

 

Grade: B+

#133. The Hanging Tree (1959)

 

 

Part of what made the '50s such a great decade for westerns was a willingness to get substantially grayer with character and theme. So even if The Hanging Tree hits a lot of familiar notes (the movie reminds me a lot of something Anthony Mann would've made), it still manages to feel fresh and modern thanks to its moral ambiguities and darker tones.

 

I think the casting of Gary Cooper also plays a role in this. We're so used to him being the flawless hero that it's immediately compelling to see him in a more mysterious light. Granted, Doc Frail is mostly good in his nature, but that manipulative, controlling side is always present, enough so that you begin to question the role this guy played in his own backstory. Makes for a strong protagonist, as well as an endearing romance - especially because Elizabeth sees right through him (even when she can't actually see).

 

More than anything, though, I just love the style of these classics. This is a western that you can really bask in, with its beautifully-photographed scenery, slow-yet-captivating pacing, and superb staging. And I think every movie's better off with an on-the-nose title song, no matter how much it clashes with the overall mood.

 

Grade: A-

 

#121. Pale Rider (1985)

 

 

Here's how I know I'm getting older: I'm starting to love these formulaic westerns.

 

By the '80s, Pale Rider wouldn't have been anything new. It's basically just Clint Eastwood's take on Shane, with some spaghetti style and grounded realism sprinkled in. And yet, because the movie's about a quiet and mysterious (and possibly supernatural?) outsider who comes to town to save some poor villagers and take on a handful of evil capitalists, I was naturally riveted. Even with the slow burn storytelling and lack of action, the compelling drama and foreboding atmosphere was enough to keep me invested.

 

It also helps that Eastwood's direction is as rock-solid as it is. The storytelling is extremely fluid (to the point where even the cornier subplots work for me), the many landscape shots are breathtaking, and the score is so tense that it sounds like something out of a horror movie. Plus, the climax is absolutely worth the wait, with its wonderful suspense, brilliant use of blocking and staging, and well-earned action.

 

I feel like this one's long been overshadowed by Unforgiven, but it really wouldn't surprise me if, a few years and a handful of rewatches down the line, I consider them to be equals - or perhaps even give it the edge.

 

Grade: A

 

#102. Meek's Cutoff (2010)

 

 

Apologies for stating the obvious, but just because a movie's slow, that doesn't automatically make it boring.

 

Take Meek's Cutoff, which is unquestionably the former. Its plot is incredibly sparse, there's very little dialogue (and half of it is so quiet that you can barely make out what's being said), and a good portion of the shots are lengthy wides. If you watch this thing and find little more than a host of beautiful landscape paintings, I totally get where you're coming from. But I actually thought it was quite thrilling.

 

Among other things, Kelly Reichardt really understands anticipation and expectation. She places these vulnerable characters in a dire situation, and uses restraint, as well as our familiarity with the genre, to wring a surprising amount of tension out of this simple premise. It's just a nonstop tale of impending doom, where we can always imagine just how south everything might suddenly go, and you don't realize until the (wonderfully ambiguous) ending that you've been holding your breath the entire time.

 

I'd be curious to see how something like this would hold up on a second viewing, now that I know where it goes. But, even putting aside the suspense, the movie's still a vivid and harrowing depiction of the hardships facing American settlers in the 19th century, and an effective look at the tedium of daily struggle.

 

Grade: A-

 

#57. Shane (1953)

 

 

As someone who grew up watching those 100 Years... 100 ____ countdowns over the years, I can confidently tell you that Shane is one of the American Film Institute's all-time favourites. It's on both movie lists, the western list, the hero list, the cheers list, and the quotes list (where the line is literally just "Shane! Shane! Come back!"). Despite their consistent attempts at selling me on its greatness, though, I'd never felt especially compelled to watch it before now. And I think that's because, in basically every other context, all you ever hear is that it's boring, sappy, and overrated.

 

Well, I've now finally seen the movie for myself, and while I can definitely understand where those detractors are coming from (this thing is undeniably slow and cloying, and Alan Ladd isn't exactly the coolest hero ever), I'm siding with the AFI on this one. I tend to love a "small community rises up against the evil corporation" premise, and it makes for a great good vs. evil narrative here. As conflicts go, it's certainly on the simplistic side, but I think most of us prefer when older westerns are black and white like that.

 

The movie's also got a strong cast, some beautiful Technicolor landscapes, and a generally heartwarming feel to it. Definitely not overrated in my eyes - though I do agree that the kid could've stood to be less annoying.

 

Grade: A

 

#33. Dead Man (1995)

 

 

This is one of those cases where mood takes precedence over plot or characters, and that's generally how I like it. As a story, Dead Man really isn't anything all that special. It's slightly subversive in many ways, but it's also kinda tedious and one-note. Though I can't really find it in myself to care when the vibes carry such potency.

 

This whole movie feels like a dream, or like some hazy purgatory between life and death, between the natural world and the spiritual world. And it captures this strange state of mind through beautiful Western landscapes, sharp black & white photography, some deadpan wit, a handful of quirky performances (many of which are much briefer than I would've preferred, but I digress), and - my personal favourite - Neil Young's thunderous, hypnotic electric guitar scoring.

 

Do I know what Jarmusch is trying to say with this movie? Not in the slightest. Hell, maybe he isn't trying to say anything at all. But what I do know is that I found the whole experience to be surreal, whimsical, and even a little profound - perhaps because it's all so perplexing. 

 

Grade: A