David O'ConnellAppaloosa
March 20th 2009 02:59
Landing comfortably somewhere between the chaotic cowboy-and-indian charges and cathartic psychological westerns of the past, Ed Harris’s second film behind the camera, following Pollack (2000), can be attributed that rare cinematic virtue - restraint, and an admirable amount of it too. Never falling prey to a necessity for profound, poetical ruminations on the human condition, Harris braces us for a small-scale saga and inflects his characters with the subtle characteristics of real men and women who can exist beyond its bordering historical context.
Set in 1882, Harris plays Virgil Cole, a freelancing lawman in the “peacekeeping business” who’s often called in to assist fledgling town officials with corrupt madmen unable to confine their activities within lawful boundaries. The town of Appaloosa has such a problem, their sherrif presumed murdered by tyrant businessman Randall Bragg (Jeremy Irons) after venturing out to collect another member of Bragg’s crew for a recent crime.
The jittery locals are naturally intimidated by the magnitude of Bragg’s force and the weight of numbers at his disposal so they reluctantly hire Virgil and his offsider Everett Hitch (Viggo Mortensen) to restore order to their humble repository of decency in the dustbowl of New Mexico with their re-jigged set of by-laws.
Showdowns and bargaining follow with both sides attempting to exhort and provoke the other, but ultimately Appaloosa hangs its hat on the binds of friendship, frayed and tested once the hail of bullets has receded. The strength of its two lead characters and a welcome directness of approach are what ultimately elevates the film, with Harris managing to direct with a steady hand whilst portraying Virgil with humanity and distinction.
From strong source material – a novel by Robert B. Parker – the conundrum of Virgil's nature slowly emerges: a man marked by the hard glint in his eye when duty calls, he’s as disarming as he is ruthless, wearing his dignity like an armour. He may be capable of executing a man at the drop of a hat but humbly confesses to never having taken a life beyond the limits of his professional duty.
Though he plays second fiddle to some extent, it’s Mortensen who’s the real star here with a performance that’s a marvel of economy. Virtually never raising his voice throughout he manages to convey the presence and loyalty of this man. Together he and Virgil have roamed for 12 years and they compliment one another perfectly, each as familiar with the nuances of the other, subtly revealed by an intimacy lacking so much as a whiff of contrivance. You sense they share an almost telepathic ability to communicate, so knowing are the non-verbal exchanges between them at times.
The thorn that might come between them in a simpler film - Renee Zellweger’s Allie French, a cultured pianist with a lustful devotion to retaining a man by her side - does prove to be an irritating distraction at first but ends up creating a faint, not uninteresting tension between Virgil and Everett. Used to coupling with only prostitutes on their mostly lonesome travels, the possibility of Virgil planting his roots in Appaloosa is a divisive one but a satisfying, amicable compromise becomes possible in this richly detailed screenplay by Harris and Robert Knott.
Irons seems headed for another prototypically evil henchman with a certitude of untouchability - especially considering how similar his name is to that darkest source of apocalyptic evil, Randall Flagg, in Stephen King’s The Stand! - and in a few choice scenes he does deliver, colourfully but contemptibly flirting with credibility before a backflip into semi-Satanic mode at the appropriate time.
Australian Dean Semler’s cinematography is magnificent, full of glorious widescreen images that showcase the barren but beautiful vistas, whilst Jeff Beal’s score features a strong main theme that proudly adheres to a heritage of hummable western themes, incorporating modern elements whilst avoiding the Morricone-isms and clichés of a jew’s harp or harmonica.
Appaloosa, following the path created by Kevin Costner's Open Range (2003), proves to be another successful re-boot of the western genre, boasting two mercurial central performances and enough substance at its dramatic core for us to invest ourselves in the fates of these flint-hard but humanistic creations - men striving to remain products of their time and not victims of it.
Set in 1882, Harris plays Virgil Cole, a freelancing lawman in the “peacekeeping business” who’s often called in to assist fledgling town officials with corrupt madmen unable to confine their activities within lawful boundaries. The town of Appaloosa has such a problem, their sherrif presumed murdered by tyrant businessman Randall Bragg (Jeremy Irons) after venturing out to collect another member of Bragg’s crew for a recent crime.
The jittery locals are naturally intimidated by the magnitude of Bragg’s force and the weight of numbers at his disposal so they reluctantly hire Virgil and his offsider Everett Hitch (Viggo Mortensen) to restore order to their humble repository of decency in the dustbowl of New Mexico with their re-jigged set of by-laws.
Showdowns and bargaining follow with both sides attempting to exhort and provoke the other, but ultimately Appaloosa hangs its hat on the binds of friendship, frayed and tested once the hail of bullets has receded. The strength of its two lead characters and a welcome directness of approach are what ultimately elevates the film, with Harris managing to direct with a steady hand whilst portraying Virgil with humanity and distinction.
From strong source material – a novel by Robert B. Parker – the conundrum of Virgil's nature slowly emerges: a man marked by the hard glint in his eye when duty calls, he’s as disarming as he is ruthless, wearing his dignity like an armour. He may be capable of executing a man at the drop of a hat but humbly confesses to never having taken a life beyond the limits of his professional duty.
Though he plays second fiddle to some extent, it’s Mortensen who’s the real star here with a performance that’s a marvel of economy. Virtually never raising his voice throughout he manages to convey the presence and loyalty of this man. Together he and Virgil have roamed for 12 years and they compliment one another perfectly, each as familiar with the nuances of the other, subtly revealed by an intimacy lacking so much as a whiff of contrivance. You sense they share an almost telepathic ability to communicate, so knowing are the non-verbal exchanges between them at times.
The thorn that might come between them in a simpler film - Renee Zellweger’s Allie French, a cultured pianist with a lustful devotion to retaining a man by her side - does prove to be an irritating distraction at first but ends up creating a faint, not uninteresting tension between Virgil and Everett. Used to coupling with only prostitutes on their mostly lonesome travels, the possibility of Virgil planting his roots in Appaloosa is a divisive one but a satisfying, amicable compromise becomes possible in this richly detailed screenplay by Harris and Robert Knott.
Irons seems headed for another prototypically evil henchman with a certitude of untouchability - especially considering how similar his name is to that darkest source of apocalyptic evil, Randall Flagg, in Stephen King’s The Stand! - and in a few choice scenes he does deliver, colourfully but contemptibly flirting with credibility before a backflip into semi-Satanic mode at the appropriate time.
Australian Dean Semler’s cinematography is magnificent, full of glorious widescreen images that showcase the barren but beautiful vistas, whilst Jeff Beal’s score features a strong main theme that proudly adheres to a heritage of hummable western themes, incorporating modern elements whilst avoiding the Morricone-isms and clichés of a jew’s harp or harmonica.
Appaloosa, following the path created by Kevin Costner's Open Range (2003), proves to be another successful re-boot of the western genre, boasting two mercurial central performances and enough substance at its dramatic core for us to invest ourselves in the fates of these flint-hard but humanistic creations - men striving to remain products of their time and not victims of it.
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Comment by Matt Shea
20/20 Filmsight
I'm loving the comeback of the Western (well maybe not quite a comeback yet, but at least a few people are making them). Over at Horrorphile you mentioned Snyder's Dawn of the Dead as being one of the best remakes of all time, but for me 3:10 to Yuma is one of the best remakes ever - I loved that film. Just champagne, old school screenwriting.
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
Yeah, you're right though, I forgot about 3:10 to Yuma, a muscular and often spectacular remake in its own right - and one of Crowe's best performances (unlike Body of Lies which I saw recently and hated him in!). I slightly prefer Open Range and this one but Yuma's not far behind mate, that's for sure.
Comment by Damo
Westerns did not die.
They just stopped writing good scripts for them.
Comment by James Rickard
unlucky_ fishermen.com
Angling Fish
Check this out...
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
Damo, it's true Hollywood has squeezed the western out of the picture a bit - just too many romantic comedy writers knocking down the doors with incredibly original screenplays in their hands!!
Nice to still see the odd one trickling out every now and again however!
Comment by Mistersmith
MRS SMITH
READ THIS
SISTERS IN CRIME
This movie sounds good but I'm kind of put off by Renee Zellweger being in it. Don't know why - just find her kind of weird.
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic