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Reviews
Saddle the Wind (1958)
Clash of the acting schools
This is worth a watch if you are a fan of the more adult-themed westerns of the 1950s. But whose bright idea was it to put Cassavetes in a movie like this? It's a helluva weird choice. His acting style is so different from that of his co-star Robert Taylor that the film barely holds together.
To his credit, Cassavetes shoots for veracity, for a naturalism that brings humanity to a character that could've easily become a cardboard cutout of a psycho. In some ways, he is elevating the worn out clichés of the script, bringing some real life to them. But other aspects of his performance are flat absurd. For example, he periodically attempts some sort of ridiculous "western" accent, then just as quickly he'll drop it; sometimes this happens within a single line of dialog. You can take the boy out of Brooklyn, but you can't take the Brooklyn out of the boy, and I never bought for an instant that he was a tough western ranch kid with lingering Confederate sympathies. And his mood swings, as he goes rapidly from giggling to brooding, are hyper and overdone.
Meanwhile, Taylor is all classic Hollywood "strong & silent type" understatement, bordering on wooden and inexpressive. Their scenes together are oil and water. It brought me out of the story, into awareness that I was watching two actors who shouldn't be sharing the stage together. Their aesthetics are just too different.
In the plus column, supporting character actor Royal Dano is amazing in this movie, utterly convincing as a squatter with lingering Civil War resentments and a legal claim on a piece of land that puts him in direct conflict with the area ranchers. There are some brutal, squirm-inducing, standout scenes where Cassavetes terrorizes Dano. These are really subversive in a way, as Cassavetes' character takes on a role usually reserved for Indians, nameless "Others" who are utterly inhuman and dispensable.
I was also pleasantly surprised at Julie London's performance. She has a few key scenes early in the film and does a fine job, but she's underutilized; her character is sketched quickly, then left underdeveloped as her story thread is largely dropped.
Overall, this could've been a lot better, but it holds some interest for those with a particular love for the sub-genre. And Cassavetes fans will find much to like about his performance, at least for curiosity's sake.
Madigan (1968)
fair to middling Don Siegel effort
A muddled film that reminds me of Frank Sinatra vehicle "The Detective" released the same year. Both movies augment tough, realistic, location-shot police procedural material with stagy drama from their cops' personal lives, and both attempt to deal with adult sexual issues in a frank & forthright manner. And they both largely miss the mark: the personal drama doesn't integrate well with the action-oriented police-work, and the sexual frankness is awkward and badly dated. That said, this movie does have its pleasures.
Widmark is very good, if a bit too old for the part. He brings an element of volatility to his character, and makes Madigan's seeming contradictions (nasty one minute, compassionate the next) wholly credible.
The supporting cast is uniformly excellent. Watch for the wild, hammy, but engaging bit parts played by Michael Dunn as a shady little person informer, Don Stroud as a petulant, sleazy pimp, and Steve Ihnat as the crazed killer. The scenes with these three characters are some of the sharpest in the film, little set pieces that really bring the proceedings to life.
Fonda's role is a tougher assignment. His character is an intimidating, implacable moral absolutist, a man of few words who processes events internally. In the course of the film he runs into a variety of moral dilemmas, and has to make decisions about them. So how would an actor communicate what's roiling within this character? Beats me, because Fonda didn't do it. He walks through every scene stone-faced, and his decisions seem utterly random. He played this so understated that no statement is made at all.
And the less said about the personal drama love interest scenes the better. Though Inger Stevens and Susan Clark do their best with their thin roles, this stuff kills the pacing of the main story threads. Stevens role as Madigan's wife is there largely to give the story's ending some emotional kick, but it just ain't happening.
The climactic shootout scene at the end is brutal and utterly convincing. Siegel could do compelling action scenes with the best of them. This little bit of the movie is truly great.
So yeah, it's a flawed film, but die-hard fans of crime & police drama, Siegel, and/or Widmark should check this out anyway.
The Great Northfield Minnesota Raid (1972)
Good performances in an uneven film
First the bad: sudden, jarring changes in tone. It veers abruptly from grim, bitter drama to clever caper movie to unfunny comedy. These shifts are badly exacerbated by the messy, eclectic, everything-but-the-kitchen-sink score, which all too often comments on scenes in ways I found ill-fitting and inappropriate. A couple of examples: an early scene in which Jesse riles up the boys by going into a feverish Southern preacher mode, to get them fired up for the titular bank job, is turned from creepy and compelling into light-hearted comedy by the wacky music behind it; similarly, late in the film, a citizen posse chasing the gang commits an atrocity on four innocent men, and the music again makes light of it, with an ironic silly 'wah wah wah'. Just awful. What were they thinking? Also bad, an interminable scene of a raucous baseball game comes out of nowhere and drags on and on with utterly unfunny slapstick. The subplot with the Pinkertons adds next to nothing. The cinematography is too often flat and TV-like.
Now the good, and the reasons I gave this a 7 anyway: excellent performances from Robertson and Duvall and the supporting cast, and a very strong screenplay, well-paced, with believable characters whose individual traits are clearly delineated. Cole Younger is a crafty pragmatist, keenly interested in modernity as represented by machinery, ready to leave criminality behind and change with the times; Jesse James is shown as his opposite, an embittered true believer in the Confederate cause, who uses that belief as justification for continued criminal violence. In this theme of men unable to change with the times, the film is akin to some of Peckinpah's work.
Also good are fundamentals like art direction, locations, costuming, and set design. This is all handled with grubby veracity, in the same vein as other films from around the same time like "McCabe and Mrs. Miller". It really excels here.
On the whole, the character-driven, group-dynamic elements of the story are so fully realized that they make the movie compelling and worth watching in spite of its tonal flaws.
The Last Mile (1959)
the ultimate prison noir
Man I didn't know what I was in for when I sat down to watch this brutal little gem. This portrait of a doomed attempted prison break from a death row cell block hits very hard, and it left me shaking my head in stunned silence.
I'm not surprised to learn from other reviews here that this story began its life as a stage play; most of the action takes place on one set, it features an ensemble cast with multiple meaty roles, and the first half of the film works at a deliberate pace with longer takes and scenes than are conventionally cinematic. It walks a thin line, how to get across the agonizing boredom of being in such a lockup, without becoming boring itself? The answer is to spread dialog around, and to give a lot of weight to mundane events, magnifying tensions and emotions. It gives the excellent cast a lot of room to create, if not exactly sympathy, at least an understanding of where the characters are coming from.
The second half (or maybe final third) of the movie is an altogether different animal, as the ticking timebomb of Mickey Rooney's John Mears explodes into violent retribution. Mears is a complicated character, an atheist and maybe a nihilist, but he cares deeply about his fellow death row inmates. Rooney's performance is AMAZING and dominates this section of the film. Also excellent are Clifford David as the youngest man on the row, next scheduled to be executed, and Frank Overton as Father O'Connors, the priest who gives the condemned men their last rites. His character shows tremendous courage as events spiral into bloodshed; he has a lot more backbone than the guards, who for the most part are sniveling, cowardly, sadistic creeps.
And as others have noted, the jazz score is outstanding, dynamic, punchy, and powerful. It maybe calls attention to itself a little too much, but it's wildly effective in underlining and slapping exclamation points on events throughout the film.
In short, terrific.
A Thunder of Drums (1961)
salvaged by Richard Boone
I have a soft spot for b-movies and random westerns. This one is a run-of-the-mill cavalry vs. Indians job that suffers from uneven pacing, a miscast lead role, and over-reliance on formula plot elements. But there are a few interesting points that make it worth watching.
One of its chief virtues is the excellent job it does of capturing the day to day flavor of life in a remote cavalry outpost in 1870s southwest. The military manners, habits, and routines are portrayed with convincing detail. The class stratification between enlisted men and officers is utterly real. An early scene with dead soldiers being transported on horseback is played to grim, nauseating effect, with enlisted men displaying hardened indifference and black humor about the situation. All of this gives the film some weight and veracity.
On the other hand, it suffers from generic Hollywood artificiality, relying unthinkingly on shoot 'em up conventions of faceless Indians, and sporting a formulaic romantic triangle subplot. Another major problem is George Hamilton's performance. The character he plays is not particularly sympathetic or likable, and he does nothing to bring depth to it. He's unappealingly flat and cocky. A better actor in this key role would've gone a long way toward breathing some life into the film, especially in its flabby, tedious midsection.
But the real reason to watch this film is Richard Boone. I've liked him in just about everything I've seen him in, but here he is completely riveting. He plays the tough, smart, experienced commander of the undermanned outpost. He's a lonely man, who feels keenly the burden of his job. Late in the film there's a scene where he discovers a scene of carnage, with a number of his men dead, and his controlled rage is very moving. He brings the only real gravitas and feeling to the movie, effectively communicating the weight of life & death decisions and consequences. He's absolutely terrific.
He Rides Tall (1964)
Anything with Dan Duryea is worth a look
It's not THAT awful. There were a few points of interest here.
Yeah the protagonist is virtually un-flawed, and he's played woodenly by Jeff Young. But Dan Duryea livens up the proceedings, as a slimy, womanizing, snake-oil salesman of an ex-con ranch foreman.
One of the supporting roles, that of the doctor who is forced to surgically disable the hero's gun hand, is given to a black actor, in a choice that was unusual for the time. The only character that even seems to notice he's black is the hero, and clearly it's supposed to further illustrate what a good guy he is, that he's unprejudiced. Yeah whatever.
Two, count 'em two quasi-rape scenes leave a nasty taste in the mouth. There's very little artistry to either, just ugliness. The Good Girl survives hers unscathed, the Bad Girl's ends with her death. The scene where Duryea hands her over to hostile Indians and stands by without doing a thing for her is chilling; if there was any doubt that his character was going to die by the end of the picture, it goes out the window here. You KNOW he's gonna pay for being that callous.
The climactic shootout scene is filmed at night, in and around a saloon with the lights blown out. This is the most visually interesting part of the film, with complex compositions of light and shadow. Nicely done in a noir-ish way.